Before leaving the vet’s office, Barbara had arranged for Chipper’s cremation. Tripp had already promised he’d bring her back when the deed was done, to pick up her dog’s remains. But when she’d selected a simple, inexpensive wooden container for Chipper, Tripp had slapped his credit card on the counter and told her to pick out a bigger, better remembrance chest, that it was the least he could do for that stinky little boy of hers. She’d actually smiled a tiny bit then. He’d put his arm around her, and for a moment, Ashley wished someone cared for her as much as he cared for his neighbor. His other neighbor.
Everything he’d done for Barbara today had been overly kind, gentle, and considerate, a trait Ashley didn’t generally ascribe to most men. Her father, Bobby, had been one of those stay-at-home slackers who’d never broken a sweat a day in his life, not even at home. Her mother, Annette, and her mother’s sister, Ashley’s Aunt Karrie Lynn, surely did after they’d married the same kind of losers.
In her dysfunctional family, the women carried the full weight of providing for their families, while their husbands and live-in boyfriends did whatever they wanted, all day, every day. Which was why Ashley had worked hard to put herself through college. She’d refused to end up working a minimum wage job for the rest of her life, tied down to an egotistical deadbeat, like her mom and aunt had. Unfortunately, her degree in marketing hadn’t translated into the life-sustaining career she’d hoped it would. Seemed everyone had degrees these days, especially in this super-charged, professional area of America.
Blowing out a sigh, she thanked her lucky stars she worked for the City of Alexandria. There was a glut of workers scrambling for employment these days. She was one of the lucky ones, and this job put her face to face with kids who needed vaccinations, women who needed mammograms or prenatal care, and a host of other free services her department provided. While she wasn’t making the big bucks she’d once thought were important, she was making a difference. She hadn’t realized until this job came along how big a bonus helping others could be. She always felt good after a hard day’s work.
Her life was perfect. Well… almost.
Since Barbara had declined Tripp’s dinner invite, they were now on their way back to the apartment complex. Country music played on his truck radio, offering a gentle background after the emotional day. Barbara said she needed a nap, that she was worn out. Her face was drawn, and she did look exhausted. Ashley worried about her being alone and made a mental note to check on her neighbors more often. All of them. Maybe even Tripp. Someday…
Cranking the wheel, he pulled his pickup into the first empty parking space in front of the complex’s front entrance. But before he unfastened his seatbelt, Barbara opened her door and slipped off the high seat to the curb. Once on her feet, she turned around, tipped up on her toes, peered past Ashley, and said, “Thank you for the ride, Tripp. You kids have done enough for me. Now go enjoy what’s left of the day. I’ll be in touch.”
“B-b-but—” he sputtered.
“But nothing. Go. Be happy.” She shut the door firmly and waved through the window, then walked through the front doors with her chin up.
That left Ashley alone with the man she’d accused of having an STD. Awkward…
Running after Mrs. Harrison seemed like a good idea. But Tripp was staring straight ahead, his fingers curled around the wheel at two and ten o’clock. She scooted away from his side to the door and took hold of the door handle, not sure what to say or do next, other than tell him goodbye. Her other hand delved into her bag and wrapped around her trusty mace.
“I should go, too.”
“If that’s what you want,” he replied noncommittally.
Oh, what the heck? She’d accused him of having an STD, not committing rape. Summoning what little gumption she owned, Ashley offered a quiet, “Or we could go somewhere and talk.” Just talk. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing else. “Maybe have a cup of coffee.” Just coffee.
Tripp turned those broad shoulders and looked at her then, his clear green eyes sincerely searching her face for motive. “Not if you don’t believe what I’ve been trying to tell you. There’s no sense going anywhere with a liar, is there?”
She lifted her shoulder nearest to him, using it as a barrier. “I never called you a liar.”
He said nothing back to her, just faced forward as if the car parked ahead of him was interesting.
“I, umm, I see a lot of crap at work,” she explained. “Everyone lies these days. I never know who to believe.”
“So you don’t believe anyone.”
She scratched her brow. Well, yeah. “It’s easier that way.”
“Might be easy, but it’s cowardly.”
Ashley hadn’t seen that insult coming. But he was right. There was a day when she’d been brave and courageous, back when she’d first started college. Not anymore. If she wasn’t in her safe cubicle at work, she was locked up behind solid wooden doors at home. She’d even bought a better, more secure, expensive, top-rated deadbolt for her apartment door. Installed it herself because she didn’t want strange men, even installers of deadbolts or plumbers or maintenance guys or—anyone—inside her apartment. She’d tried that once. Tried to live like other professional women. Freely. Without worry. Carefree. Maybe even a bit brazenly. It hadn’t worked out, and she refused to go through—that—again. Besides, she liked helping people, and her job offered plenty of safe opportunities to do so. Until last Friday…
“I guess it is,” she admitted, “but—”
“It’s safe,” he finished for her. “You’d rather be safe than take a chance on trusting a guy you just met. Sounds kind of lonely to me, but I get it.”
He still wasn’t looking at her, which made it easier
