Page 37 of Denial
Thank fuck for that.
“It would be easier,” Spencer says, patting a towel gently over the scars on his face. The evidence of the work accident thatnearly took his life and sent him back to town gives me a sharp spike of pain in the gut.
“For who?” I grit out, finishing my last two. “Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. You set her up with a place to live, and she’s happy there.”
“Sure. Sucks she’s alone, though.” Spencer tips his water bottle to his mouth.
Fuck. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t?—
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Spencer and Silas exchange a glance.
“I don’t know, man. Put yourself in her place. A single woman moving across the country to a strange new town where she only knows one person. On top of that, her new boss is a dick and works her so long it’s probably hard to get out and make friends,” Spencer says.
“She met Francine,” I grumble.
Spencer pins me with a look. “You and I both know that woman is nuts.”
“And living with me is supposed to make that easier how, exactly?”
“You’re right. You’re too temperamental to be friendly.” Silas grins.
“And now my brothers are insulting me,” I mutter, lifting my T-shirt to swipe at my forehead.
“Sorry, Sutt. It’s not a secret you’re about as trusting as a cornered skunk,” Silas counters.
“Highly confrontational and overly defensive.” Spencer laughs. “Stinks too.”
“I do not.” I frown, plucking my tee away from my chest for a whiff. “When the fuck did this turn from a gym session into a give-Sutton-shit session?”
“I call this my pre-workout.” Silas shadowboxes the air between us.
I shove his shoulder and walk over to the row of cardio machines. “Better cut the shit before I knock your ass out.”
“As if you could, old man.”
“If you want to test that theory, keep thinking forty-six is old.”
I fire up the treadmill and drown out Silas’s smart-mouthed reply. More like a personal attack.
The whirr of the belt spins loudly. Coupled with the heavy smack of my feet against the running deck, it’s the perfect excuse to end this conversation. Unfortunately, I forgot my headphones at home, or I’d put those on too. Nellie must have slipped them out of my gym bag and neglected to return them.
I fist my water bottle and pour a healthy stream into my mouth. Silas takes up the treadmill beside me.
“Who do you think that is?” Silas points out a small person lurking along the wall near the punching bag suspended from the ceiling. By the petite stature, I’d surmise it’s a woman. The black, baggy sweatshirt with the hood pulled forward to obscure her face completely cloaks her.
“Don’t know.” I ignore his curiosity to focus on finishing my two miles. Time is limited if I want to get in a decent workout before my shift starts at eight. Something I can begrudgingly admit that Ms. Thompson makes easier.
A figure moves in my field of vision, and I shake off some of the irritation from my brothers. My best friend, Lee Powell, crosses in front of my treadmill and drops his gym bag at his feet. He’s the oldest of the Powell brothers and runs the dog sanctuary in town. We’ve been friends since middle school.
“Haven’t caught you here in a while. How’s that new nanny working out?”
My mouth compresses. “You said it yourself. I’m here, aren’t I?”
Lee laughs. “You don’t sound too happy about it. Is she that bad?”
“She’s hot. Nothing wrong with a hot nanny.” Silas throws himself back into my business.
