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“I didn’t hear you,” I said once I was calm enough to process who the fuck was holding me against them.
He squeezed my hand gently, his other hand brushing hair from my face. “I’m sorry. I won’t sneak up on you again.”
No man had ever apologized sincerely to me before. Definitely not Kyle or Andrew. My heart fluttered and I forced away any hope for more. This was ending when Paisley returned home in four weeks. Even if it ended, I thought I’d still want them in our lives. My face faltered. I’d have to tell them about Paisley soon, regardless of what was happening between us.
“You okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to my temple.
His grip loosened, and I nodded. “Yeah,” I croaked. I pressed the back of my head against him. “Sorry. I was in the zone. I didn’t hear you.”
He let go of me completely and spun me so we were facing each other. His eyes bore into mine, searching for unspoken answers, for a reason why I reacted so harshly. My chest was aching from the palpitations.
“Who’s Andrew?” he asked after a silence that dragged on for what felt like an eternity.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as fuck. Had that name slipped from my mouth when I was screaming while I thought no noise was coming out? I shook my head frantically, my eyes squeezing shut. “No one. It doesn’t matter.”
He dropped his forehead so it was touching mine, and his hands cupped my face. I savored the way his warm hands were rough against the smoothness of my cheeks. The way they soothed any ache inside of me.
“Sure it does. I scared you and it’s because someone hurt you, isn’t it?” He pulled away and pressed a kiss to my nose.
I shook my head and pulled from his embrace. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tonight,” I said, changing the subject.
I was desperate to get his mind off anything that hit too close to home. Admitting my past relationships meant this was growing into something more than what we were doing.
“I finished work early. It’s raining so we couldn’t work,” Hendrix said. “Figured I’d come check on you. See if you needed any help.”
He glanced past me, then walked around me and grabbed a paint brush. “Staining the bar?”
I nodded, spinning so that I could see him better. “Yes. I just finished sanding it and the liquor shelves. It’s ready to stain.”
“Want some help?”
I grinned. “I’d love some help.”
He tossed me a brush.
“We’re only staining the shelves and the bartop. I’m going to paint the bottom white.”
He drew a brow. “White? People are gonna scuff that up with their feet, sitting on the stools.”
“Yeah, I’ll have to clean it often. But I think we need some white to brighten up the place.”
He hitched a shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re the boss. Just tell me what to do.”
Butterflies fluttered. I couldn’t deny that I loved the acceptance. There was no fight to defend my decisions. He supported them and wanted to help.
“That’s what I like to hear,” I said.
I directed him around, ordering him to start on one end, then we’d meet in the middle when I started the other.
“How was Calder? When he dropped you off?” Hendrix asked as I started on my side of the bar.
I gulped audibly, and even though we were a good thirty feet apart, I could have sworn he heard it.
“Bad, huh?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. He can be…intense.”
I laughed pathetically, the sound catching in my throat. “Intense? He practically killed me. What’s his deal?”
He sighed, his eyes focused on the strokes he was creating with the paintbrush. I counted the seconds of silence before he answered. Twelve agonizing seconds of waiting with anticipation. Would he tell me that Calder has anger issues? Or that there was some sort of trauma causing the turmoil I knew sirred below the surface of Calder.
