Page 30 of Crowbar

“You wish.” Twisting in my seat, I kissed Noodles on the head. She licked my nose, tail thumping against the passenger door. “Be good for your dad.”

She barked once, but I didn’t believe her.

Setting her aside, I slid out of the truck, I adjusted my sling and headed toward the entrance. The glitter stars I’d drawn over the weekend caught the morning sun and threw tiny rainbows across the pavement.

I pushed through the door, the familiarity grounding me. Deb was already at the register, looking through paperwork.

“Morning,” I called.

She glanced up, took one look at my sling, and raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me it was that bad.”

“I’m just milking it for attention. Figured a sling might help my dating life. Some guys are into the whole nursemaid thing.” I still felt bad for lying to her. She’d been nothing but sweet since I started. I just didn’t want to explain the truth.

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t believe me, but she also wasn’t pushing. Deb had been managing retail long enough to know when to let sleeping dogs lie. “Light duties today. No lifting anything heavier than a hamster. You’re on inventory in the back.”

“No problem.”

Inventory wasn’t terrible. Clipboard, ear bud, and no customers asking if ferrets made good apartment pets. I had no clue. Over the weekend Crowbar had outed me. Said he knew my secret then helped me research the animals in the shop so I could become more knowledgeable. We hadn’t gotten to ferrets yet.

“General Patton missed you,” Deb said, nodding toward the bird perch.

“Liar.”

“Asshole!” the parrot shrieked, right on cue.

“I’m a new man,” I said low enough so Deb wouldn’t hear me. “Gotta boyfriend now. He’ll kick your feathered butt.”

Patton tilted his head, beady eyes studying me. “Boyfriend!”

“Shh.” I held my fingers by his beak, and he tried to bite me. “Sunshine!”

“Sunshine!”

I grinned. Hopefully the word stuck. It now made me determined to clean up his potty mouth.

“Sunshine!”

“Asshole!”

“I’m not giving up.” I grabbed a spray bottle from the shelf and misted the air near his cage. He fluffed his feathers, looking offended. “You’re welcome. Hydration is important.”

“Sunshine!”

I grinned. Maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as I thought. I misted again. The bird made a sound like a dying car alarm, and I took that as my cue to leave before he started throwing sunflower seeds at me.

Deb was watching me with something that might have been amusement. “Told you he missed you.”

“Delusional.” I grabbed the clipboard from the counter and headed toward the back. My good mood was annoyingly persistent, making me want to whistle or hum or do something equally obnoxious. Blame the orgasms. Blame the glitter markers. Blame the fact that Crowbar’s truck was still parked across the street and I could see it through the front window.

I paused, pretending to check the clipboard while my eyes found the windshield. The truck sat there, Crowbar’s silhouette visible through the glass. He was on his phone, head tilted back against the headrest, and even from here, I could see the line of his jaw.

My stomach erupted in flutters.

I was in love with him.

The realization didn’t announce itself with fanfare or dramatic music. It just settled into place like it had always been there, waiting for me to notice. I loved the way he carried Noodles on his shoulder. Loved the way he’d draped his leather cut over me like I belonged to him. Loved the way he’d paid for urgent care like my broken pieces were worth fixing.

Ken had never fixed anything. He just knew how to destroy.