It was still early—only four in the afternoon—when I got to Mom and Dad’s, which meant I had the garage to myself. Dad wasn’t home yet and Mom was teaching in her studio. So I let myself in, stripped off my gun and badge, then traded my Bozeman PD polo for a plain white T-shirt I’d stashed in the back of my truck. I popped the top off a beer and got to work, letting the clank of tools on metal drown out the silent gunshots from the murder video I’d watched too many times.
Three hours later, I’d completely gutted the interior of the cab. The bench seat had been taken out, along with the floorboards. The steering wheel and door panels were gone. I’d even removed the radio, jockey box and driving gauges. The only thing staying was the black dashboard, which was in good shape but needed a thorough cleaning and conditioning.
With the inside basically a shell, I started on the smaller items, using a screwdriver to take out the driver’s-side sun visor. I’d just loosened one screw when the visor fell open and a picture dropped to the floor.
I set aside the screwdriver and wiped my hands on my jeans before lifting up the photo.
It was a picture of Poppy and Jamie from college. Jamie had his arms around Poppy’s chest, his chin resting on her shoulder. They were both smiling at the camera as they stood in a crowded row at the MSU football stadium.
Damn. She looked happy. So fucking happy.
My heart beat hard as I studied Poppy’s face. She hadn’t changed much since college. Some of the youth she had in the picture was gone—and pain had erased some of her innocence—but she was just as beautiful now as she had been back then.
Just as beautiful, but nowhere near as happy.
I wanted to see that kind of raw joy on her face again. I wanted to be the man that put it there.
Me. Not Jamie.
“Hey.”
My eyes swung to the garage door. So lost in my inspection of her picture, I hadn’t heard the woman herself walk inside. But there she was. My pretty Poppy. The sun limned her in an amber halo, and my heart did that weird double-beat thing before I found my voice. “Hi.”
“Sorry if I startled you.” She walked toward the far wall where all of Dad’s tool benches were lined up.
“It’s okay.” I rounded the hood of the truck to join her, holding out the photo. “Here. I just found this.”
She took the photo and smiled. “Look how young we were. This seems like a lifetime ago.” With one finger, she touched Jamie’s face, then set the picture aside on a workbench.
I waited, wondering when I’d run into the wall she’d constructed between us, but she surprised me by planting both palms on the top of the bench and hopping up to take a seat.
Did this mean she was done shutting me out? Done avoiding me? Because that would turn my long, shitty week all the way around.
“You know,” she said, “I think that picture was the last time I went to a Bobcat football game. I kind of want to see the expanded stadium. Would you go to a game with me this fall?”
“In a heartbeat.”
That got me the smile I hadn’t seen for way too long.
Damn, I’d missed her these last two weeks. That smile. Her laugh. Her crazy hand gestures. The distance she’d put between us was killing me.
She pointed to the truck. “How’s progress going?”
I turned and leaned against the bench, my hip next to her knee. “Good. I think I’ll be able to do all of the interior myself. I was able to order a new seat and all of the parts. I’ve got a guy coming to replace the windshield next week, and I’ve asked a buddy of Dad’s if he can help with the body stuff and paint.”
“I’m sorry I can’t help. But you’re keeping track of how much I owe you, aren’t you?”
“Sure.”
Whatever the total ended up being, I was whacking it in half. There was no way she was going to pay for all of this truck, no matter what she said. Not when she was trying to run a new business, to support her employees and herself.
“I think I’d better have you save receipts.”
I chuckled. It never ceased to surprise me how well she could read my thoughts. “So what’s new? Everything going okay?”
“I’m good.” She nodded. “I actually just finished a lesson with your mom and I saw your truck so I wanted to say hi.”
My eyebrows came together. “I thought your lessons were on Tuesdays.”
“They are, but I asked to switch this week. I took the whole afternoon off for an appointment.” She reached to the collar of her shirt. She wasn’t wearing her normal restaurant T-shirt today. Instead, she had on some sort of sports bra with a loose, short-sleeved sweatshirt on top. The collar had been cut so it draped across one of her shoulders, teasing me with a patch of flawless skin.
As she yanked the collar wide, I tucked a hand in my pocket so I wouldn’t be tempted to see just how silky that skin was. My cock jerked against my zipper as she kept pulling that collar lower and lower, stretching it so her shoulder was completely bare.
“See?” She angled her back to me and I leaned closer.
“You got a tattoo today?”
She nodded and peered over her shoulder. “My first and only. That thing hurt like a mother.”
I grinned. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“No tattoos?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I just can’t think of anything I’d want to get inked.” I pointed to her shirt, wanting to hold it down so I could
