When I'm Gone
Page 11
“That’s so sad,” Blaire said, looking crestfallen. “Being alone isn’t easy. I’m glad she has you.”
Jimmy winked at Blaire before turning and walking out of the room.
There was a heavy feeling in my chest. I tried to shrug it off and focus on the conversation around me. But the thought of Reese being alone with no family bothered me. No one but Jimmy was checking up on her. How was that possible? The woman could stop traffic without trying. Hell, she had married men hitting on her.
I would wonder if maybe she was more into girls, but I’d seen her look at my bare chest. I knew better. She hadn’t wanted to look, but she’d looked anyway.
When Jimmy came to clean up our plates, I saw Harlow’s mind working. She was worrying about Reese, too. “Do you know how Reese is getting home today after work? Are you driving her?” Harlow asked Jimmy.
He frowned and stacked another plate in his arms. “No. She had a smaller house today. She’s probably finished by now and heading home.”
Harlow turned to look at me. “Would you go find her and give her a ride? Lila Kate and I can stay here and have dessert.”
I was already standing before she had finished asking.
“Reese ain’t real good with men. They make her nervous. It’s sweet of you to send Mase, but she won’t just climb into the car with him,” Jimmy said, looking at me warily.
“It’s OK. She knows Mase. He took her to get her hand stitched up, and he took her home the other day from my house, too,” Harlow assured him.
I watched Jimmy’s face as he swung his gaze up to me. His eyes widened, and he grinned. “Well, at least she’s got good taste. About damn time,” he mumbled.
“Ignore Jimmy. He’s a romantic. He will make nothing out of something. Just go give her a ride. Please,” Harlow begged. She was worried that I wouldn’t go because of Jimmy’s comment.
I glanced at Jimmy. “I want to talk to you about her walking. That needs to stop. Drive her to her houses. Don’t make her walk from the club.”
Jimmy’s eyes got big, but I didn’t wait around for a response. I knew the rest of them had heard me, and I knew what they were all thinking. But I didn’t care. It was going to take more than that to keep me from going to see Reese again. She needed me. Hell, she just needed somebody. And fuck if I didn’t want to be there to help her.
This was my mother’s fault. She’d raised me to be this way. That was the only excuse I had.
Reese
I didn’t notice the expensive-looking SUV pulling up beside me until I heard a familiar deep voice call my name. I stopped and looked over as Mase pulled the car up behind me. I hadn’t expected to see him again.
The way my heart picked up its pace and pumped wildly in my chest startled me. What was it about that man that made me feel things I thought were impossible for me?
“Get in,” Mase said, as he walked around the front of the vehicle on his way to open the passenger-side door.
Truth was, I didn’t want to argue with him. He was here, and I had a chance to be near him for a few minutes. I was going to take it.
I let my eyes quickly take in his jeans-clad bottom and the way the navy-blue T-shirt he was wearing clung to him, unable to hide all that definition. His hair was pulled back, but the curls at the ends made the strands look just messy and tempting to be touched.
When he started to turn back and look at me, I snapped to attention and hurried over to him. “Thanks,” I said, as I climbed inside. He didn’t help me this time, but then, this car wasn’t high like his truck. It was Harlow’s car. I knew it looked familiar, but the baby seat in the back was definitely Lila Kate’s. I’d seen that before.
Mase closed my door, and I watched in appreciation of all his male beauty as he sauntered around the front of the vehicle, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. The stubble was back on his face today, and I decided I liked him best when he hadn’t shaved.
“You worked today,” he said, glancing down at my hand. “Your hand feeling better?”
It was. Much better. I hadn’t had that much trouble with it today. I’d worn rubber gloves and had been able to clean without it slowing me down. “Yes,” I replied. “Were you going somewhere?”
He shook his head and pulled back out onto the road. “No. Just finished lunch at the club. Jimmy mentioned that you worked today and that you were walking home,” he explained.
So Mase had run off to come find me? If he’d been going to the Carters’, he would have turned a few blocks back. My stomach did a fluttery thing.
Before I could think of anything to say to that, a phone started ringing. Mase leaned back and pulled a flat smartphone from his pocket.
“Hey, everything good?” he said when he answered, looking concerned. “Sure. I’ll be back by then. I think I can fit it in. They say how long they need to board?” I tried not to look at his face as he concentrated on the road and the conversation he was having. “Yeah, give it to me,” he said, then reached over and opened the glove compartment. “See if there’s a pen in there, Reese.”
I quickly did as he asked and found a black pen and handed it to him. He pushed it back at me and picked up a piece of paper sticking up between the seats. “Here, write this down,” he told me.
Oh, no. Not this.
He would see what I wrote. And it was hard for me to write things down when they were dictated to me. I had to concentrate. My letters got turned around, and I often started to panic when I felt pressure to write without enough time. I had to be alone, and I needed to focus.
Jimmy winked at Blaire before turning and walking out of the room.
There was a heavy feeling in my chest. I tried to shrug it off and focus on the conversation around me. But the thought of Reese being alone with no family bothered me. No one but Jimmy was checking up on her. How was that possible? The woman could stop traffic without trying. Hell, she had married men hitting on her.
I would wonder if maybe she was more into girls, but I’d seen her look at my bare chest. I knew better. She hadn’t wanted to look, but she’d looked anyway.
When Jimmy came to clean up our plates, I saw Harlow’s mind working. She was worrying about Reese, too. “Do you know how Reese is getting home today after work? Are you driving her?” Harlow asked Jimmy.
He frowned and stacked another plate in his arms. “No. She had a smaller house today. She’s probably finished by now and heading home.”
Harlow turned to look at me. “Would you go find her and give her a ride? Lila Kate and I can stay here and have dessert.”
I was already standing before she had finished asking.
“Reese ain’t real good with men. They make her nervous. It’s sweet of you to send Mase, but she won’t just climb into the car with him,” Jimmy said, looking at me warily.
“It’s OK. She knows Mase. He took her to get her hand stitched up, and he took her home the other day from my house, too,” Harlow assured him.
I watched Jimmy’s face as he swung his gaze up to me. His eyes widened, and he grinned. “Well, at least she’s got good taste. About damn time,” he mumbled.
“Ignore Jimmy. He’s a romantic. He will make nothing out of something. Just go give her a ride. Please,” Harlow begged. She was worried that I wouldn’t go because of Jimmy’s comment.
I glanced at Jimmy. “I want to talk to you about her walking. That needs to stop. Drive her to her houses. Don’t make her walk from the club.”
Jimmy’s eyes got big, but I didn’t wait around for a response. I knew the rest of them had heard me, and I knew what they were all thinking. But I didn’t care. It was going to take more than that to keep me from going to see Reese again. She needed me. Hell, she just needed somebody. And fuck if I didn’t want to be there to help her.
This was my mother’s fault. She’d raised me to be this way. That was the only excuse I had.
Reese
I didn’t notice the expensive-looking SUV pulling up beside me until I heard a familiar deep voice call my name. I stopped and looked over as Mase pulled the car up behind me. I hadn’t expected to see him again.
The way my heart picked up its pace and pumped wildly in my chest startled me. What was it about that man that made me feel things I thought were impossible for me?
“Get in,” Mase said, as he walked around the front of the vehicle on his way to open the passenger-side door.
Truth was, I didn’t want to argue with him. He was here, and I had a chance to be near him for a few minutes. I was going to take it.
I let my eyes quickly take in his jeans-clad bottom and the way the navy-blue T-shirt he was wearing clung to him, unable to hide all that definition. His hair was pulled back, but the curls at the ends made the strands look just messy and tempting to be touched.
When he started to turn back and look at me, I snapped to attention and hurried over to him. “Thanks,” I said, as I climbed inside. He didn’t help me this time, but then, this car wasn’t high like his truck. It was Harlow’s car. I knew it looked familiar, but the baby seat in the back was definitely Lila Kate’s. I’d seen that before.
Mase closed my door, and I watched in appreciation of all his male beauty as he sauntered around the front of the vehicle, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. The stubble was back on his face today, and I decided I liked him best when he hadn’t shaved.
“You worked today,” he said, glancing down at my hand. “Your hand feeling better?”
It was. Much better. I hadn’t had that much trouble with it today. I’d worn rubber gloves and had been able to clean without it slowing me down. “Yes,” I replied. “Were you going somewhere?”
He shook his head and pulled back out onto the road. “No. Just finished lunch at the club. Jimmy mentioned that you worked today and that you were walking home,” he explained.
So Mase had run off to come find me? If he’d been going to the Carters’, he would have turned a few blocks back. My stomach did a fluttery thing.
Before I could think of anything to say to that, a phone started ringing. Mase leaned back and pulled a flat smartphone from his pocket.
“Hey, everything good?” he said when he answered, looking concerned. “Sure. I’ll be back by then. I think I can fit it in. They say how long they need to board?” I tried not to look at his face as he concentrated on the road and the conversation he was having. “Yeah, give it to me,” he said, then reached over and opened the glove compartment. “See if there’s a pen in there, Reese.”
I quickly did as he asked and found a black pen and handed it to him. He pushed it back at me and picked up a piece of paper sticking up between the seats. “Here, write this down,” he told me.
Oh, no. Not this.
He would see what I wrote. And it was hard for me to write things down when they were dictated to me. I had to concentrate. My letters got turned around, and I often started to panic when I felt pressure to write without enough time. I had to be alone, and I needed to focus.
