I stared at him. “What was?” Of all the things I had thought to hear, any sentence starting with the word “Carter,” or suggesting him to be responsible for anything bad, was not one of them.
“He asked Tex if he’d watch out for you,” Tanya finished, coming to stand protectively beside Tex. I would have been amused, seeing five-foot-eight Tanya protecting the six-foot-six Tex, but now was not the time for amusement. I looked up at him.
“An eye out?” I inquired.
Tex looked uncomfortable. He looked around at Tanya, who nodded. “He asked me to look for Luke Lowry.”
I felt blood drain out of my face. The nerve! How dare he? I had confided in him, not expected him to blab my problems to the entire motorcycling community!
“How dare he?” I asked.
Tanya drew in a breath. “Now, Amelia… don’t be mad. Carter was just concerned about you.”
“Concerned about me?” I shouted. I was hurt, seeing Tanya take his side made me feel betrayed by her. “He has a strange definition of concern! If he cared about my safety, why is he letting me stay there by myself?”
“Stay where?”
I stiffened. I hadn’t meant to tell her all in a rush, but I had raised the subject, and I might as well get it over with. “I can stay in the apartment above the repair-shop. Mark offered, and Carter agreed too.”
“You’re moving in there?” Tanya asked. “Amelia… are you sure that’s safe? It is completely isolated out there. And I don’t want you to move,” she added with a grin. “I like you here.”
I smiled. “Oh, Tanya.” I felt all my anger dissolve as swiftly as it developed. “I don’t want to move out either… I just need something to sleep on that’s more solid.” I gestured at the sofa, which was showing a distinct set of bumps and lumps from me sleeping on it.
“I know,” Tanya grinned. “Well, if you need help moving in…”
“I can take my stuff in my car,” I reminded her gently. Inside, I felt a little hurt at Tanya’s sudden agreement. I hadn’t said I was accepting his offer.
“Again, I don’t want you to leave,” Tanya said warmly. “But if you want to go, I’m glad for you.”
“I don’t know if I want to live there,” I said slowly. “I just…”
“Do it,” Tex interrupted. “Amelia, it’s safe.”
I frowned. “Tex,” I said cautiously. “It’s safe here. Tanya’s here,” I added, making a gesture in the direction of my friend, who nodded.
“It’s not safe for you to go to and from work… or, at least, it’s much safer if you don’t need to go,” he said. “That way, you’ll have less time on your own.”
“On my own?” I frowned at him. “I’m not on a hit-list, you know,” I said defensively. “I’m quite okay.”
“Don’t be mad at him,” Tanya interjected. “He’s just worried for you.”
I let out a weary breath. “Okay. I should be able to accept that. Thanks,” I said to Tex, suddenly feeling bad. I had been ungracious. “I appreciate it, everything really.”
“No problem,” Tex said warmly. I felt myself soften to him. Whatever I might have thought about Carter’s informing him of my danger, I was glad he knew. If anybody could keep Luke from hurting me, I was sure he could.
“Thanks, Tanya,” I added, smiling at my friend. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”
“I’m just leaving now,” Tex called, as I walked to the small bathroom that was attached to Tanya’s bathroom.
“Bye, Tex,” I called around the doorframe. “Have a good evening.”
“You, too,” he called back.
When he’d gone, I sat down opposite Tanya.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to freak out. I was just stressed. And a bit hurt that everybody knows my problem.”
“Carter didn’t tell anybody,” Tanya said firmly. “He only told Tex.”
“Oh.” I felt better after hearing that. I shut my eyes, feeling drained. Relief, mixed with the tension of the day, had served to rob me of all my energy. I barely had the strength to keep my eyes open. “Well, I’m still pissed off at Carter,” I murmured.
“I understand,” Tanya replied, and I heard her shut the cupboard door as she got out bowls for pasta, our regular Monday dinner. “He is a difficult one.”
“Yeah,” I muttered back. “That’s an understatement.”
“You’re right,” Tanya murmured back, and I heard the sound of forks and spoons being placed on the table. “He’s a real dickhead sometimes. Handsome, but a difficult guy.”
“Yeah,” I said again.
I closed my eyes and lay back on the couch, images of Carter playing through my mind. His anger as he looked at Mark, his contrition, facing me. His kindness.
Was he really so difficult? Maybe I was misreading him. I had no idea. All I knew was that I was looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.
15
Carter
I woke up on Saturday with a nauseous feeling that wouldn’t go away. I didn’t know what it was until I thought that maybe it was because I had screwed up badly. I got up and went to the kitchen and poured some oatmeal into a bowl. It was the weekend. Normally this meant I’d relax and enjoy a leisurely breakfast, but today I felt distracted. I didn’t want to spend time sitting still.
“I might as well go to work.”
I checked my watch. It was almost ten o’clock. I felt the need to spend more time at work. I had been distracted all week and was behind on paperwork as well as parts orders and some of the repairs. I had nothing going on today, so why should I not spend it at work? It would do me some good.
I tossed back the remains of my coffee and grinned. Who was I kidding? It had nothing to do with work, and I knew it. Today Amelia would be moving in upstairs. I wanted to be there in case she needed my help.
“Own it, Carter,” I told my reflection as I entered the bathroom to shave. I might as well be clear to myself that my motives had nothing to do with being a good boss.
I showered and dressed, then stared at myself in the mirror again. I was wearing good jeans, the same ones I’d worn on Friday because, well, they seemed to work pretty well that night, right? I added a white shirt and a light jacket to protect me from the increasingly cold air.
When I drove up to work at eleven a.m., I felt my heart beating with excitement. Amelia’s car was outside. That meant she was moving in.
I fought the urge to charge up the metal stairs to the second floor and ask if she needed anything. I shouldn’t force my attention on her. She was probably still mad with me—and rightfully so. I still couldn’t believe how I’d behaved towards her since we met.
“Calm down,” I told myself firmly as I sat behind my desk. I had work to do.
I worked steadily until one p.m. I stood, stretching, resisting the temptation to see her. It was killing me to not know what she was doing upstairs. I made myself walk straight out of the office and to the store to get lunch. When I got back, approaching the building, I could hear talking.