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Heavy, broad shoulders. Tattoos rippling over strong muscles that slip up his arms and into the sleeves of his t-shirt. Harsh jawline.
Stop it, Hannah,I chastise myself.He’s probably married with children now. We’ve got other priorities that he wouldn’t understand . . .
“Are you going to speak?”
Shit.
“You know, you should really hire a receptionist,” I ramble because that’s what I do when I’m nervous. “Someone could rob you blind and you’d be none the wiser. Though, I’m not sure there’s much of a market for dust bunnies right now.”
He’s not amused.
“I mean, you know what they say about a clean . . . garage, right?”
I have no idea what they say. Again, I tend to ramble when I’m nervous.
And Mason Carpenter hasalwaysmade me nervous.
“What are you doing here, Hannah?”
The silence hanging in the air between us is palpable. Tense.
Fuck.
“She’s missing, Mason.”
His jaw ticks, but apart from that, he doesn’t react.
He has no reason to help me. After his stepfather was arrested for heinous crimes, I’m sure Missy is the last person anyone in his family is concerned about saving. Hell, it feels like she’s the last personanyoneis thinking about right now.
Except for me.
Stay strong, Hannah. The worst he can do is say no.
“No.”
Everything is doomed.
“Mason,” I start, but he chooses this time to stand, his big selftoweringover me and every bit as wide as the best linebacker in the NFL.
I’d forgotten how tall he is . . .
His muscles ripple under the thin black t-shirt he’s got on. Those aren’t gym muscles. They’re earned over a lifetime of hard work.
My mouth is suddenly very, very dry.
“You’re the only one I can trust. My mother’s brushing it under the rug because of who she was involved with and the cops aren’t looking. I mean, they say they are, but not really. The FBI is after her and God only knows who else.”
“I said no.” He stalks toward a tool cart, away from me, but I follow him. He doesn’t appear to like it judging by the tension in his shoulders.
“Iknowsomething bad has happened. Missy’s smart, but she’s not very good at hiding.”
“Your sister is being accused of some very bad shit, Hannah,” Mason bites, still not looking at me. “And you want to help her?”
“No,” I snap. I know what she’s been accused of. I just don’t believe it. I mean that’s my twin. My sister. She wouldn’t do those things. “I just want to make sure she’s okay and convince her to turn herself in. I just . . . I don’t have a good feeling.”
“I have enough problems to deal with without having to worry about you, too.”
Rude.
