My throat closes on hot tears, and I have to look away from both of them while the weight of it crashes through me.
He did this.
Somehow, between last night’s disaster and this morning’s breakfast, he found a way to give me back what I lost.
I can’t look at him for a long minute because if I do, I might actually cry, and that’s not happening in front of him.
There’s one other problem. It’s a beautiful gesture, but one I can’t accept.
Face beginning to heat, I tell them both, “I can’t afford new things. Not like this.”
“Already covered.” His voice comes from behind me, close enough that I feel the heat of him radiating across my back through the flannel. “Consider it part of the protection detail.”
The reply doesn’t help me in the least.
“Why did you do this? I figured you and Caleb would do everything including chaining me up to keep me from going to the event since you believe someone’s out to hurt me.”
He doesn’t look away, he doesn’t blink, just filets me with that stare. “I did this because I know you want to go to the event, and to do that you need new things.”
He nods toward Dee Dee like that’s the end of the conversation. “Let her work.”
The stinging in the back of my eyes rivals fire ant bites.
I drop my chin, wrapping my arms around myself. This is bad. Diesel is chipping away at all of my defenses. I can’t afford to let him in. I won’t survive.
Dee Dee is humming, already pulling garments from the racks. She gathers rhinestone-studded shirts that catch the industrial light, form-fitting jeans with intricate embroidery, a matching vest similar to one I lost in the fire.
All of it is beautiful. Too expensive.
“Wait till you see what I brought for him.” Dee Dee winks and pulls another rack into view, and my brain stutters to a halt when she lifts a western cut men’s shirt in a rich, vibrant shade of pink.
Before I can stop myself, I reach out to touch the fabric. “This is for Diesel?”
“Can’t have your boyfriend looking out of place at those Valentine’s parties, can we?”
The world tilts beneath my boots as I quickly reject her remark. “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”
Diesel steps forward, his presence suddenly massive beside me. “What parties?”
Dee Dee looks between us with confusion creasing her forehead. “The sponsor events. The meet-and-greets. You’ve got two major evening activities before your big competition on Sunday, plus some daytime meetings.”
“That’s right,” I say, at the same instant Diesel says, “No.”
Our eyes lock across the space between us, and I recognize that stubborn line he’s got to his mouth.
“What exactly are you saying no to?” I ask him.
“You’re not going to any parties.”
I tilt my head, the wave of cold disappointment threatening to crest over me. “But I get to compete?”
“That’s different, you’re in an arena for a very short run, not lingering in a crowd of people.”
Don’t panic yet. He surprised me with agreeing to the competition. He’ll come around.
But Dee Dee is right about the rest of it. All those activities are critical, a once in a lifetime chance for my career. and if I pulled out of the event entirely, I wouldn’t be in the running for any major sponsorship. If I want a real chance at this, I need to be seen at those parties. We need to be seen together, looking like we belong there.
I turn to face Diesel with my heart hammering against my ribs. “If I’m going to compete, then the meetings and socials matter for my sponsor opportunities.”
