Home > The Time in Between (Magdalene #3)(14)

The Time in Between (Magdalene #3)(14)
Author: Kristen Ashley

But I did tell him that I was probably a loser for thinking a position at Sip and Save was going to get me wearing fancy shoes and scurrying with my expensive trench coat flying behind me while I jet-set between Paris, Milan, London and New York.

When I was done, he stated the obvious.

“That’s a lot.”

I nodded and drew in breath, now embarrassed about laying that all out.

It was then something strange happened because Tony looked for a second like he was undecided.

That was the second time I’d seen him in my life so I didn’t know him well enough to know, but it seemed completely wrong on him not to know exactly who he was and what he was about.

He then curved an arm around my back and pulled me to his side, holding me there.

Holy crap!

“It’ll get better,” he murmured, again hesitating before he lifted the hand he had around me and patted me awkwardly on the arm before he dropped it again to curl his fingers around my waist, and that didn’t feel awkward at all. For him, the way he held me, definitely not for me, being held by Tony.

Still, we sat in uncomfortable silence, both of us holding ourselves stiff, before I tried to break the feel by saying, “I’ll figure something out. That’s life, right? It socks it to you and you figure something out.”

“Right.”

“You’re being really nice,” I noted.

“Yeah, I’m nice.”

He said that like it was absolutely not true, and a chill traced over my skin.

I turned within the circle of his arm and tipped my head back, powering through the forbidden feeling I felt having my face that close to his, and I did all this to say, “You can stop being nice. I’m all right now.”

“I’ll stop being nice when I know you’re gettin’ in your car, gettin’ the fuck outta here and you’re gonna drag your ass to work even if you drag around all day because you’re on your path and you’re not gonna blow it because your brother’s a dick and your parents don’t get you. Not sure the Sip and Save leads to Milan, but who cares? If you can lay your head down at night knowin’ you put in a solid day’s work and you’re on a good path no matter where it leads, that’s where it’s at.”

He was absolutely right.

It was then I wondered if he could lay his head down on his pillow at night and know he was on a good path.

I also wanted to lay my head down on the pillow beside his.

Lastly, I really wanted to kiss him.

But this would not be proving to him I’d learned my lesson from that night, had my blip and was going to find some way to pull myself together.

So I pulled slightly away and he let me by taking his arm from around me.

I didn’t like losing it.

I didn’t let myself think on that.

I promised, “I’m gonna get in my car and get outta here, get home, while I still have one, get as much sleep as I can get and then drag my ass to work.”

He grinned. “’Atta girl.”

I grinned back.

He jumped off the gate, taking my hand and pulling me off, saying, “Walk you to your car.”

“’Kay.”

He walked me to my car. Well, he walked beside me as I guided him to my car.

He stopped me at the driver’s side door and turned into me, doing this (sadly) letting my hand go.

“You good to drive?”

Officially, probably not. But nothing sobers a girl up faster than narrowly escaping a gang bang she didn’t want to participate in, being saved by a good-looking guy who was nice but (possibly) shady, who she totally wanted to bang and pouring her life out all over him, forcing him to awkwardly comfort her on the tailgate of an old Chevy pickup.

“I’m good.”

He took a second to assess me before he nodded.

“Catch you later, Cady.”

And with that, like before, he was done, turning and beginning to stroll away.

“Tony,” I called.

He stopped and turned back.

“Thanks. I mean, thanks. A lot.”

He gave me another grin. “Fortunately a man doesn’t find himself in a place he has to play the knight in shining armor. Good I got that shot with a cute redhead.”

A cute redhead?

What?

“Later, Cady.”

“Later, Tony,” I forced out.

He flicked a hand in a goodbye wave, turned again and walked away.

“Yo.”

I looked up from restocking the pork rinds to see Tony standing in the aisle of the Sip and Save.

It was the next day (well, essentially the same day, just later). I looked like hell. I was wearing my Sip and Save smock, which even Cindy Crawford couldn’t make look good (unless it was unbuttoned all the way and she had a bikini on underneath).

And there he was.

He grinned again.

Gah!

“Hey,” I greeted rather than running from the store (or running to my purse and hoping I had lipstick in it so at least my lips would look good). “Uh, are you looking for me?”

His grin stayed in place. “Not a coincidence last night happened and today I’m right here.”

“Right,” I muttered, then louder, asked, “How did you know which Sip and Save I worked at?”

This was a good question considering there were about five hundred thousand of them in Denver.

“Girl, we run in the same crew.”

We did?

Did he think I “ran” in that crew?

And what did “running” in that crew mean, precisely?

Before I could ask any of that, even though I wasn’t certain I would, he continued speaking.

“Talked to a bud,” he stated, coming to stand close to me.

I didn’t know why he was telling me that but the only thing I could think to say when those hazel eyes were on me was, “You did?”

More grinning and, “Yeah. I did. He’s been out of town, gonna be out of town awhile. Three-month job he’s on. Construction. I been looking out for his house, going over every coupla days to grab his mail and change timers on his lights so it looks like someone’s home and they’re not keeping the exact same schedule for three months. Asked him if he’d be cool with a free house sitter for a while, if she grabbed his mail, kept the place nice, and gave it a good clean when she left. Last job he was out on, got cleaned out, TV, DVD, his change jar, stereo, speakers, even took his blender. So he was all over it.”

Oh my God!

He had a place for me to stay!

“Really?” I breathed.

He shot me a smile.

I nearly melted into a puddle of goo at his feet.

“Really.” He dug into his jeans pocket, came out with what looked like a torn off corner of note paper. “My number. Call me when you wanna set up a time to go look it over. I’ll show you around. If you like it, I’ll get you a key.”

I’d like it.

It wasn’t sleeping on Maria and Lonnie’s couch, listening to them have loud sex all the time, or tucking my tail between my legs and eating shit from my parents, so I’d definitely like it.

However.

“I . . . I haven’t found a new place, Tony. And it’s not easy to find, my budget doesn’t exactly put me in the Ritz. It’s probably gonna take a while.”

“He’s about three weeks into this assignment so you got a spell over two months. That be enough time?”

Living rent free at some dude’s pad?

Totally!

I’d even have my security deposit back by then!

But . . .

“You don’t, well . . . This is all nice and everything but you don’t even know my last name,” I said.

“What’s your last name?” he asked.

“Webster,” I answered.

“Now I know it,” he stated, and I let out a little giggle. He smiled again and said, “Mine’s Wilson. Nice to meet you. Now we got that down, you gonna call me?”

I was so totally going to call him.

He knew that so I shared, “I’m so totally gonna make you cookies.”

“Pie, Cady.”

“Pie?”

“Cookies don’t suck but I’m a pie guy.”

I was so totally making him about fifty pies.

   
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