Silence.
“Mase?”
He cleared his throat. “Good. Thanks. I need to go.”
He sounded weird. Weirder than usual. “You okay?”
“Yep, just had a fucking shit of a day.”
As much as I didn’t want to cut him some slack, I got it. I’d had more than my fair share of shitty days as well. “I’m sorry. I hope tomorrow’s a better one.”
“I doubt it.”
No one could say I hadn’t tried. “Okaaay, well, I guess I’ll see you in…”
He’d already hung up.
I scowled at my phone. So freaking rude.
Once this job was done, it was no more Miss Nice Gal. I could be professional when I needed to be. My clientele at Rocktown Ink was varied, and temperaments were mixed to say the least. But I’d never dealt with anyone as difficult as Mason Parker. If he wasn’t Quinn’s brother and going through a rough divorce, I would have told him where to shove it a long time ago. He was going through some stuff, I understood that. But there was no excuse for being that much of a prick.
I wasn’t some professional interior decorator he’d picked out of an ad, I was his sister’s friend. This was just a side hustle for me to earn some extra cash, and there was only so much I’d put up with. My gran didn’t raise me to take shit, not from anyone, and I wasn’t planning on starting now.
If Mase so much as looked at me the wrong way when he moved in, he was in for an unpleasant surprise.
And if I had to find somewhere else to park my trailer while I saved for my own bit of land, so be it.
Chapter Three
Mase
Three weeks later
I jogged toward the house, trying to focus on the burn and pull of muscles.
Though, I don’t know why I thought this would be any different, several rounds at Angus’s gym hadn’t worked. I wasn’t sure why I assumed running myself to death would clear my head.
Slowing, I planted my hands on my hips and paced up and down the driveway, cooling off. I’d been back in Rocktown for two days, and it was like I’d never left. Yeah, it was fucking good to be home. The city had never been the place for me. The noise and the traffic made me feel hemmed in. Janie loved it and wouldn’t even consider moving here.
I’d left for her, to be with her, but I’d always felt like a fish out of water. And I’d spent so much time working, my wife had ended up alone more often than she was with me.
In the end, she’d fallen out of love with me—her words—and she’d left. She’d moved on.
The paperwork was signed a month ago, but we’d been living apart just over a year. And yeah, it still stung, had damn near sent me over the edge at the time, but I was moving on as well. Or fucking trying.
But being back in Rocktown reminded me of the things I’d left behind when I went away. Of how quick I’d been to walk away from the people I loved, the town I’d never wanted to leave, to give Janie everything she wanted. That wasn’t her fault, it was mine, and I’d never make that mistake again.
The truth was, we’d both fucked up, and we’d hurt each other in the process.
I shoved my fingers through my sweaty hair. Thinking about Janie was the last thing I should be doing.
A low growl came from the backyard—
I turned to a pair of round dark eyes watching me over the gate.
A dog, with a boxy head and floppy ears.
I squinted at the mutt. “Jesus Christ.”
The dog barked, then whined, and I glanced over at the trailer parked behind the house. A dim light was on inside the vintage Airstream. Trixie had been away at a tattoo convention the day I arrived, so I still hadn’t actually met her in person. Quinn had been looking after the dog, and the fact that he was now occupying my yard probably meant Trixie was back. I eyed the dog again. It didn’t look all that fierce, fucking odd looking with its long lean legs and body and that big head, but not vicious.
Still, you never knew.
I pulled out my phone and quickly sent Trixie a text.
Mase: You home?
I glanced at the trailer again for any sign of movement. Nothing. My phone beeped.
Trixie: Nope. Is Jimmy Chew giving you trouble?
I glanced at the dog. “Are you Jimmy Chew?” The dog’s ears pricked up, and he barked. Christ. What kind of name was that?
Mase: The dog’s fine. Unless he bites. Wanted to talk about the house. Tomorrow?
I unlocked the front door, and I headed inside, flicking on the lights as I went. The place had never looked so good.
I’d been an unreasonable asshole to this girl on several occasions. Yes, she was opinionated and difficult, and snarky as hell, but she didn’t deserve the shit I’d given her, no matter how much of a pain in the ass she was. I’d taken my divorce crap out on everyone, including her.
Trixie had managed to transform my tired family home into a place that looked pretty fucking cool. Somehow, without even knowing me, she’d gotten it so damn right. I headed upstairs to my room, flicked on the light, and strode into the en suite.
Peeling off my sweaty shorts, I turned on the shower. Yeah, I owed Trixie my thanks and a big fucking apology. My phone beeped again.
Trixie: Busy all day and I have a late client. Sorry. And Jimmy would never bite.
Okay, then. Not tomorrow.
Putting down my phone, I climbed in the shower and quickly lathered up. And as soon as I closed my eyes, rinsing off, she popped into my head. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the woman I’d spent the night with three weeks ago. I’d never met anyone like her. I sure as hell hadn’t planned on sleeping with her.
