I was going to choose, maybe not necessarily being happy, but not being mad. Ripley wouldn’t be the first person to blame me for things they had caused. If anything, he might be one of many, but he was one of the few to ever apologize… in his own way.
That was worth something. More than something really. And if I really thought about it, I might have appreciated the effort it took to even do as much as he just had. Hadn’t I just avoided telling my sisters that I’d known something for days because I didn’t want them to get madder at me than they already were?
I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.
I bit the inside of my cheek and said, “Thank you,” even though it sounded like more of a question.
He tipped his chin down once and only once, his eyes narrowing like he could read my mind.
He didn’t say he was sorry for bitching me out—for no reason—but he’d brought me a donut. My favorite. I hadn’t figured he’d paid enough attention to know something like that.
I reached over slowly, like he was going to change his mind and jerk it away at the last minute as I took the bag from him, watching his face as he did the same in return to me, looking for who knows what. To make sure I didn’t quit? To make sure I didn’t cry?
I’d barely taken it when he asked, “How busy are you today?”
It was hard not to think that was a trick question; he knew I had an entire car to prime and paint on top of trying to catch up on things so that I wouldn’t fall behind since I was taking a day off to go to San Antonio. “Pretty busy.”
His eyes slid around the room for a moment before he dipped his chin down in a way that seemed like it was more for himself than me. “Finish what you’re working on and meet me outside.”
“Why?”
He still didn’t look at me. “There’s an auction going on. You’re coming with me.”
What? “But—“
“Hurry up. It starts in an hour,” he stated, taking a step back and finally making direct eye contact again. His face was smooth. No hint of frustration or tightness on it at all, and I wasn’t sure what to think of that.
“I have to do the car that you—”
Those bright eyes landed on me, and his eyebrows went up a quarter of an inch. “It can wait.”
Now it could wait?
“But”—why did he want me to go in the first place?—“Mr. Cooper goes with you.”
On the rare occasion that I did go, it had been with Mr. Cooper, but the last time I’d gone with him had been… three years ago? Four years ago? Maybe longer? When I’d first started trying to learn things about cars, he would take me all the time and point at things, explaining everything he could think of and everything I was curious about. I’d enjoyed it a lot. I would have never guessed just how much it would have interested me.
But since taking over the lead painter position, I had other things to do instead.
“He’s not coming in today. You’re up.”
I reached up to flick at one of the heart-shaped fake ruby earrings I’d put on that morning with the tip of my index finger. “But—”
Rip’s eyes strayed to the side of my face for a moment before focusing again. “Everything can wait. I’ll meet you by my truck.”
He was being serious about me going with him. “But…,” I mumbled, trailing off, because I wasn’t sure what other argument to give him for why I should stay.
Other than him taking his crap out on me the day before, there was no reason I should want to stay and work. Who would say no to taking a few hours off? Me, apparently, and I wasn’t even sure I knew why I was totally fighting it other than just being a tiny bit resentful over how he’d been. Sure, I was going to forgive him and get over it, but I wasn’t a robot. I couldn’t just turn my feelings on and off. I needed at least ten minutes.
“I’ll deal with it if you fall behind. Let’s go,” he stated in that voice that was somewhere between patient and not.
He took another step back and then turned around to head toward the door, calling out over his shoulder, “You can eat that in my truck. Let’s go.”
Eat—
He was really being serious. He wanted me to go with him.
The door shut just as I stood there and glanced at the bag in my hand.
I sighed again.
It didn’t take me long at all to walk back to my room, strip out of my protective suit and grab my purse. I doubted I’d need it, but I’d watched an episode of a show once of someone who was in a wreck, died and couldn’t be identified, so now I didn’t like not having my ID with me at all times. That and my paint-specked leggings didn’t have pockets to put my cell phone in. Then I headed out of the room and made my way toward the parking lot, kicking the door to the shop closed behind me.
Rip was already waiting inside his truck, chin high while he relaxed against the headrest. His lips were moving just enough so that I knew he was either talking to himself… or lip-synching along to whatever was playing on the radio.
Some part of me knew he was singing along.
I wasn’t going to think it was adorable. Nope. Not when he’d been so strange and on edge the last few days. Not when he’d been unfair over something that hadn’t been all my fault. It wasn’t going to happen.
…but it was happening.
I managed to keep the smile on my face, one hand holding my purse, the other holding my donut, and watched as Rip’s head turned to look at me as I walked toward his truck. Before I was there, he reached over and opened it for me from the inside, pushing the door open. I climbed in, careful not to scratch the leather or do anything else that would screw up the completely restored interior.
“I tried to go as fast as I could,” I told him as I set my purse on the floor and reached for the seat belt.
He put the truck into drive. “I’ve only been out here a minute.”
I shot him a look out of the corner of my eye as I closed the door and finally set the small white bag on my lap, wondering once again why he wanted me to go with him.
And where was Mr. Cooper?
I waited until he’d pulled the truck through the gate that was connected to the fence that went the entire way around the building before I asked, “Do you mind if I make a quick call?”
The only answer I got was a shake of his head.
I bent over and pulled my phone out of my purse, going straight to my favorites and looking for one of the only two men’s names I had saved under my favorites.
The line only rang twice before a familiar voice picked up. “Little moon,” Mr. Cooper answered, sounding totally normal, totally fine.
“Hey, Mister C,” I replied.
“I meant to call you last night. Miguel texted me over happened with Rip”—I shifted my eyes to the side to make sure that someone wasn’t listening. If he was, his face didn’t register any signs that he’d overhead Mr. Cooper talking about him—“but Lydia came home and it slipped my mind.”
“It’s okay,” I said before he could keep going. “Everything is all right.”
The sigh he let out told me he didn’t agree with me, and that warmed my heart.
“I was calling to tell you that I’m going with Rip to the auction today.”
Silence.
I slid my gaze back to Rip and found the cheek closest to me doing this weird twitch thing.
“I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but I just wanted to let you know in case anyone calls to ask you where I’m at. He said you weren’t coming to the shop today.”
There was another beat of silence. Then, “Okay. Sure.” Another moment of silence. “That’s good, Luna.”
“Are you okay?”
More quiet, then, “I have a doctor’s appointment. I’ll be in tomorrow.”
A doctor’s appointment? “Are you having problems with your blood pressure again?”
The hum he made in response was 1000 percent fake. It was his way of not wanting to lie but not wanting to say the truth either.
“That’s what I thought,” I mumbled. “Good luck with your appointment then and let me know how it goes.” I paused. “Don’t forget to tell the doctor about how you’ve been sneaking sandwich meat and frozen pizza at work when you think no one is looking.”