Fighting to Forgive (Fighting, #2)

“Great. See ya soon.”


The call ends, but I remain stuck in place on my couch, the phone to my ear. I contemplate calling Blake and asking him what I should do. He did say I wouldn’t have to pay for the use of a rental, which makes walking in there with not enough money even more of an insult. Besides, if his behavior over the last week is any indication, he probably won’t answer my call.

Out of options, I push off the couch and grab the Camaro keys. With less than a hundred bucks to last me until payday and zero available on my credit card, I’m going to have to beg for them to let me make payments. So humiliating.

*


“You look like what’s-her-face.” The silver-haired man who introduced himself as Guy of Guy’s Garage snaps his fingers, his bright blue eyes on me. “She’s the little one. On that show Nashville.” His hands brace the countertop, and he drops his head. “What in the hell is that little girl’s name?”

Raven shakes her head and rolls her striking blue-green eyes. “Don’t mind him. He could be here for hours trying to figure it out.”

“Come on, Ray. You know who I’m talking about, right? She’s got a man’s name… Harlen, er, Haman, Hayden!” He shoves his big, oil-caked finger, into my face. “Hayden Panteen-tiere or some French shit. You’re tiny, just like her.”

The smile I’d been trying to hide breaks free. “Thank you. I’ve never been compared to her before, but I’ll take it.”

“Hot damn, girl. You’re her with brown eyes.” His gruff compliment warms my cheeks.

Raven shakes her head, directing a warm smile to the older man. “You need to lay off the nighttime drama and try some documentaries or something.”

He slams his hands on the counter, making me jump. “Tell me you don’t see it, Ray.”

She squints and studies my face. “I guess. I mean, she’s tiny and blonde.”

“Ha. See, I was right.”

She hooks her arm in mine. “Let’s get you to your truck. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than talk crappy TV with Guy.”

Yeah, I wish. Sad thing is, that’s the most fun I’ve had since… Nope. Not thinking about him.

She leads me out of the small office, a little bell above the door jingling as we pass through. “Nice meeting you, Guy.” I wave to him over my shoulder.

“Hey, can you speak with a southern accent?” He tosses his question across the room and out the open door.

I shake my head and laugh along with Raven as the door closes behind us.

The bright afternoon sun hits my eyes, and I squint into the parking lot. Shining and looking better than it did when I got it, which isn’t hard to do, sits the Bronco.

“Raven, wow. It looks like a different car.”

She shrugs and looks away. “Yeah well, we had it detailed and waxed for you.”

Oh, for crying out loud. Another thing to add to my list of IOU’s. “I’m sorry, but… look, I appreciate all the work you’ve done, but I can’t afford any of this. I realize this is what you do, and you were trying to hook me up, but.” I shake my head. “Is there a payment plan I could get on, or maybe—”

“It’s been taken care of.”

My eyes dart to the Bronco and back to Raven. That had to have cost a fortune. “By who?” I ask, but something tells me I already know.

“Blake. He insisted we get it in tip-top shape, no matter the cost.” Her smile is warm and a little too knowing.

I pull at the ends of my hair and flip them around my finger. “You’re not kidding.”

She shakes her head, the knowing grin getting even bigger. “No. I’m dead serious.”

“Why would he do that?” Granted, he must have agreed to this before he started avoiding me, but that makes all this even more ridiculous. Who takes care of the repair costs for a woman he doesn’t even know, or speak to?

A quick laugh bursts from her mouth. “I was just as shocked as you are, trust me.”

“Blake doesn’t strike me as a philanthropist.”

Her expression turns thoughtful. “Not usually. But, I think if you got to know him, he’d surprise you.”

Hard to get to know someone who won’t talk to me. Anymore.

I thank Raven and hand over the keys to her Camaro. We laugh and fall into easy conversation over our mutual love of classic hot rods. I thought she’d explode out of her skin when I told her about my old Trans-Am.

“I better let you get back to work.” I hop into the Bronco. “Thanks again, for everything.”

“We should grab a drink sometime,” Raven says as I reach to close the door.

That would eliminate another weekend without plans. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“Perfect. How about Friday night? I’ll bring my friend Eve.” Her bright eyes twinkle at the mention of her friend. “You two would get along great.”

Being invited into the inner circle between girlfriends is a huge honor. How could I say no?

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