“I don’t either,” he said. “But not because of the warehouse. They also have places in Los Angeles, New York, and London.”
“They must be doing well then.”
“Yeah,” he said. “And they’ve carefully cultivated a reputation, one they’re proud of. They do their own work, they pride themselves on that work being 100 percent green, and they give back a percentage of every dollar they make.”
“They wouldn’t risk all that to toy with me.”
“I can’t see it,” Joe agreed.
He drove her home and walked her up to her door, and then several things happened at once. For the second time that night, he grabbed her and shoved her behind him just as her front door opened. And then suddenly he also had a gun in his hand, pointed right in the face of the man who’d opened her front door.
Gib.
Chapter 10
#YouTalkingToMe?
Joe couldn’t think of one good reason for Gib to be coming out of Kylie’s place when she wasn’t even home. So he held the gun steady, letting it ask the question for him.
But clearly Kylie had other ideas. “Gib,” she gasped, stepping out from behind Joe. “What the hell are you doing?”
Joe didn’t budge, not his stance or gun, and when Gib didn’t speak, she turned on him next. “And what the hell are you doing?” she asked, pointing to his gun. “Put that away.”
What am I doing? Was she serious? She had some asshole playing with her, toying with her emotions, and she didn’t understand why he’d pull a gun on a guy coming out of her locked apartment? “I’m wondering why your boss is coming out of your place like he owns it,” he said calmly.
“Oh my God.” Kylie shifted from standing at his side to standing in front of him with the gun pointed right in her face as she blocked Gib from him.
Shit.
He immediately lowered the gun but didn’t put it away.
Kylie rolled her eyes.
And maybe in another time and place he might have marveled at her bravery—or stupidity. In his world, he was typically actually respected, even feared, for his shooting abilities. And yet she stood there toe-to-toe with him, protecting his target, eyes flashing with temper.
When he was the one who should be pissed. So it was a damn good thing the good old U S of A had taught him how to handle himself and put his emotions and temper aside.
Real good.
He hadn’t yet gotten around to mentioning to Kylie that he’d put Gib through Archer’s invasive search programs. He knew the guy’s secrets. Such as he’d gotten married at age eighteen and divorced less than a year later. Three years ago he’d gotten a DUI. And he’d just spent way too much money on a new Lexus. And . . . he was also pretty much exactly who he seemed, an okay enough guy if not a little self-centered, who worked in his own style and not Michael Masters’s style and who’d put away a good amount of money—which he’d earned, not stolen.
He wasn’t Kylie’s thief.
Did it piss Joe off that Gib overcharged for his work while underpaying Kylie? Hell, yes. Ditto for the way he was suddenly playing with Kylie’s feelings. Gib being the bad guy would’ve really worked for Joe, selfishly, but his gut told him it wasn’t him. He knew he’d have to tell that to Kylie sooner or later, but later was working for him at the moment.
Kylie stood there staring at him like he was the asshole before turning to face Gib. “What are you doing here?”
“I went back to the shop and saw that you forgot your paycheck,” he said, not taking his gaze off Joe, which earned him a single, solitary point in the respect category.
But only one.
“I knew you’d want it,” Gib said. “I left it for you on your kitchen table.”
Kylie nodded. “Okay, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Gib didn’t leave. In fact, he crossed his arms and set his feet, still holding Joe’s gaze. “Thought maybe we could catch up on one of our shows. Iron Chef?”
“Cute,” Joe said.
“It’s one of her faves,” Gib said.
Right. And Joe didn’t know her faves because they didn’t watch TV together. They didn’t do anything together because . . . well, because he was an idiot who’d let Kylie think he didn’t want anything serious, that he couldn’t be serious. He turned to go, but Kylie put a hand on his arm.
“Joe.”
He stepped back a step so that her hand fell away. “It’s late,” he said. “I’ve got to go.”
“Joe.”
Resisting a sigh, he met her gaze.
She stepped in to him and said quietly for his ears only, “Look, I’m sorry. He has a key because, as you know, I tend to lose or forget mine and—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Kylie.”
She stared up at him. “Fine,” she said.
“Fine.” He held her gaze, saw the bad temper in it, and thought, fuck it. He didn’t need this. Hell, he didn’t even understand this. So he turned and walked away.
Behind him, her front door slammed shut. With both her and Gib on the other side.
“Fine,” he repeated to the night. Yeah. He was a fucking fine asshole, is what he was.
Kylie turned from her front door, leaned back against it with her arms crossed and stared at Gib. “What was that?”
“I told you, you forgot your check—”
“The truth, Gib.”
He held eye contact before he blew out a breath and looked away. “I hate the way you’re suddenly so into him, okay?”
“Not okay.”
He sighed and stared down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Things aren’t the same between us anymore. It’s all wrong.” He lifted his head. “And it’s scaring me.”
“What’s wrong is that you’ve confused me,” she said. “You knew I had a crush on you since the fifth grade and yet you never let on that you had any feelings toward me in that way. Not until Joe showed up in the shop. Then suddenly you’re asking me out and trying to get closer.”
“Maybe seeing Joe look at you like you’re lunch opened my eyes to what I’ve felt all along,” he admitted. “But what does that matter?” His eyes warmed as he took a step toward her. “There could definitely be something between us. I know it.”
She stared at him, trying to reconcile her feelings. It wasn’t easy, but there was a big difference between a childhood crush and an adult love. “Just tell me this,” she said quietly. “If you felt something for me all this time, why did you wait so long?”
He shook his head, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t go there with you. Not when your grandpa . . .” He shook his head, looking pained. “He gave me everything, Ky. No matter how I felt for you, it never seemed right.”
“He’s been gone a long time.”
He opened his mouth and she held up her hand. “No, wait. I don’t want to do this right now. I’m tired. Please, just go.”
“You want me to leave?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yes, I do.” She opened the front door. “Because at the end of the day, I still want to be your friend and employee. And I’m afraid if you keep talking, that would all be in jeopardy because I might kill you.”
He shook his head. “So we’re seriously not even going to try?”