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“Well, I don’t freakin’ know. I’ve never done it before, but we can be bad together.”
And that was why she’d called Sasha. She could draw a laugh from her even at her worst moment. “That sounds nice. The hot-tub part. Not the other stuff.”
“Okay, you make the plans and find a cabin. We can go halfsies. I’ll get my shifts covered, and call you on my break.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I need a vacation. Laramie is suffocating me lately. Let’s go make bad decisions and get you all healed up.”
Timber said goodbye and disconnected the call. She rested back against the seat and watched a family of four walking across the parking lot.
Get her all healed up?
She was a therapist whose life was a freaking mess. Messier than most of her clients’, who were paying her to help them work through their problems.
She’d really felt like Wreck was the one. Like he was going to stick. He was going to be her rock, and build a family with her.
There would be no healing up from this.
There was just getting used to the pain.
Chapter Fourteen
“Who the hell is Kendra?” Wreck repeated to himself for at least the tenth time.
He frowned down at his last text message to Timber asking that very question, but it wasn’t going through.
Had she blocked him?
Kendra. He had never known a Kendra in his entire life. His mind turned her odd texts over and over. He’d tried to call her, but it wasn’t even ringing. It wasn’t going to voicemail, either.
“What’s wrong with you?” Silver asked from where she was working on the landscaping in her front yard as he strode for his house.
“Nothing,” he gritted out.
“Wreck—”
“I said nothing! Fuck!”
“Dude,” Owen ground out. “Careful with how you talk to her.”
Wreck ticked his head to the side, closed his eyes, and puffed out a steadying sigh. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Silver, you’re a girl, right?”
“Uuuh, last time I checked I had a vagina, yes,” she said sarcastically.
“Forget it,” he rumbled, and headed for his house.
“Why?” she called after him.
“Look, if I ask you questions, I don’t want a lot of return questions, okay? Just give me advice and leave me alone.”
Silver had frozen, squatted down, potted plant in her grasp. Her eyebrows arched up. “I can do that.”
Wreck paced back to her, running his hand through his hair. “If a woman gets mad at a man, and she blocks him on the phone, is it okay for him to go to her house? I mean, if she clearly doesn’t want to talk to him, but he’s pretty sure there’s been some kind of misunderstanding?”
“Oh! I can answer this one!” Owen said from their front porch, raising his hand like he was in grade school.
“Not you!” Wreck barked out.
