Did Drew know about their date? Had Sam told him about the kiss? She wanted to know every word Sam had said, but she wouldn’t ask. It wasn’t appropriate. Sam thought of Drew as a son, and Stella would be horrified if Sam were to ask Jace a similar question. Even though Jace had no idea who Sam even was. Stella made a mental note to call him and explain her car mishap and subsequent adventure soon.
“I also don’t have to ask how you feel about him in return. The fact you’re still here speaks volumes.”
“How do you know I’m not just here because my car is still in need of repair?” Stella asked, meaning the question to be cheeky.
“Because I fixed it myself on Saturday.”
Stella froze, her face screwing up in confusion before she turned to face Drew Baldwin. “You what?”
“I fixed your car,” he said nonchalantly. He clearly had no idea this was news to Stella. “Early Saturday morning, actually. We had the parts on hand, so it didn’t take long.”
Stella shook her head, trying and failing to understand. “No. Sam just told me he was still waiting on a part. He had to order one from the next town over. The man was sick, or his car broke or—I don’t remember, but the part couldn’t get here.”
“I dunno what you’re talking about. We get most of our parts right here in town. Occasionally, there are things we have to send out for, but usually the guys over at Shell Motors have what we need.”
“The serpentine belt and the camshaft and the alternator,” she said, listing out the things on her fingers.
“Fixed, fixed, and fixed.” Drew grinned and kept painting, clueless as to what was happening on her end of the conversation. “It’s okay, Ms. Pierce. I won’t tell anyone why you’re really staying in town.”
“I’m really staying here because my car isn’t fixed yet. Or, at least, that’s what Sam just told me this morning. He said it would be another day. He said…”
Stella watched the color drain from Drew’s face. He worried at his lower lip with his teeth before he turned to face her, his mouth half open as though he hoped the right words would come to him at the right time. When they didn’t, he sighed and pressed his palm to his forehead.
“Shoot.”
Stella crossed her arms, careful to keep her paintbrush from touching her clothes. “What is going on? Is my car fixed or has there been a mix-up or—”
“A mix-up, yes!” Drew snapped and pointed at her, grateful for something to latch onto. “This is probably just a mix-up. I left the receipt for the work I did on your desk, but I bet Sam didn’t see it. That’s all. He probably thinks I haven’t done the work yet.”
That was a possibility, but not one Stella could put much stock in. “But you said you had the parts on hand. Sam told me the day he towed my car in that he’d have to order the parts from out of town, and you just said you get most of your parts from in town. Why would he say that if it wasn’t true?”
“Maybe I’m confused. I fix a lot of cars. I could have fixed someone else’s.” Again, Drew chewed on his lower lip, and Stella knew something bigger was going on.
Stella shook her head. “Tell the truth. Sam lied to me.”
Drew held out his hands as though trying to hold the situation together and keep it from getting out of his control. Stella recognized the expression because she’d had it so many times before.
Stella liked to be in control. She liked to be the first to know what was going on, and she didn’t like to be caught off guard. All of those tendencies made the present situation even more difficult to deal with.
From the moment she’d stepped foot in Sam’s shop, he’d lied to her. Why?
Part of her wanted to be flattered. Perhaps, Sam liked her so much right away that he wanted her to stay longer. But that wasn’t enough of a reason to lie.
They barely knew each other then. What Sam had done was a slightly more ethical form of kidnapping—and only slightly. Stella could have left whenever she wanted, but Sam had made it just difficult enough and sounded just reasonable enough that she’d stayed.
She turned and saw the kidnapper in question talking with someone backstage. He tipped his head back and laughed. He was too far away to hear, but Stella could imagine the sound. After only a few days, it had become precious to her.
She liked Sam more than she’d liked any man. Ever. And now all of that had been thrown into question because he’d lied. About everything.
“Please don’t jump to conclusions,” Drew said. “You should let Sam explain himself. I stumbled into this, and I’m not sure—”
“It isn’t your fault, sweetie,” Stella said, feeling surprisingly protective over the young man. He didn’t realize what he’d done. Sam had lied to him, too. “None of this is your fault.”
“It feels like my fault,” he said.
She shook her head and gave him her best approximation of a smile. “Can you tell Tasha I had to leave? I’m not feeling so great.”
“Stella…” Drew said, his voice a plea.
She grabbed his hands in hers for a second, silently comforting him, and then turned and left.
She wanted to say more, but she couldn’t. Partly because she was afraid Sam would see her and walk her way if she stayed any longer. And partly because tears were already clogging the back of her throat and burning in her eyes.
She didn’t want anyone to see her cry.
16
Stella decided to walk back to the inn.
If she took a taxi, there was a good chance she’d cry in front of the driver. If she managed to hold it together for the ride, she’d certainly break down the moment she saw Georgia
