Chapter 14

14

TREY

A ll day long, my thoughts meander away from the job at hand and to Electra.

Even now, on the drive to the hardware store, all I can think about is her soft, sweet scent. Her silky hair, and the way her eyes light up when my fingers run through it. Her… mmm …perfect lips.

She seems very mature for her age. I guess that comes from being surrounded by adults so much when she was little.

On my break earlier, I found footage online from a talk show her parents were on when Electra was around four. CC paraded her daughter around, like a piece of art to be shown off, as the audience made the appropriate oooh and aaah noises. Ryl was holding her for a while, then he got distracted and Electra slid down from his knee to play with the host's shoelaces. She was immediately scooped off the floor by another guest – an award-winning actress – who'd played with her for the rest of the segment.

It bothers me that CC wasn't watching her daughter in the slightest, just using her as a prop.

I worry that she expects Electra to marry someone famous for the huge Hollywood wedding. Am I going to be a disappointment? I actually don't even care so much about that, I just don't want my sweet angel to get upset.

I park in front of Sandersville Hardware, noticing Dean's truck already in the lot. I find him in the electrical supplies aisle, comparing the various connectors and terminals.

As soon as he sees me, he chuckles. "No matter how many of these we have on us, we're always out of the right one, hey?"

"Right. Murphy's First Law of Connectors."

I grab the few things I need, pay Louis, then Dean and I walk out together, pausing in front of his truck which is parked next to my van in the grocery store lot.

"Hey," he says, "can you sneak away from your dad to do a Marty McGee job on Thursday? I could really use the extra help."

Before I can even open my mouth, Dad steps out from the space between Dean's truck and the passenger side of my van. What the – was he peering in the windows? His eyes are wide and he is definitely pissed off.

"You've been picking up extra jobs? You told me that you were working on the recording studio all weekend."

"I was." Glancing around, there's a small cluster of people in front of the grocery store. "Lower your voice, Dad."

"Why? So that the whole town doesn't find out my own son is betraying me?"

"Dad, don't be so dramatic."

Dean cringes away, mouthing and miming, "Sorry. Call me?" as he gets into his truck.

Dad turns to me, his jaw tight. "You were supposed to replace one outlet in that recording studio. Then you said the wall needed fixing and it took you most of the weekend. Was that all a lie to cover some other job?"

"No, not at all. Once I got in there I?—"

"What recording studio? Was it ours? Pretty sure we've got the only one in town." The loud voice makes me jump, and I spin to see the auburn-haired woman whose home I was in all weekend marching toward me as the other people drift away.

Of course I've seen photos of CC and Ryl before, but it's interesting to see the reality behind the perfect lighting. Her eyes are striking, and his are wide. No wonder Electra's eyes ended up so magical.

But at the moment, there is no trace of the publicity-seeking musicians, just two curious, and possibly irritated, parents.

"Hey, Ray," Ryl says casually as they come right over. "Did something happen at the studio?"

"It's all handled," Dad says, with his trademark calm smile designed to put clients at ease. "Your daughter said that an outlet was shorting, and my son fixed it."

Before any panic can set in, I add, "None of your equipment was harmed."

Ryl glances between me and Dad. "What happened, exactly?"

Dad gives me a nod, so I explain. "An outlet shorted, then was smoking. Turned out the ground was shot."

CC looks nervous. "Why?"

"The ground itself was loose – possibly from heavy gear being smacked into it over the years. But I noticed the wall was chilly, and when I got into it there was water damage from above. I replaced the lines, fixed the drywall, and it's good as new."

Ryl glares at his wife. "I told you that you were going to destroy the house with all the water you slosh around. It was a lot more than you said, wasn't it? I swear, if you fall asleep in that goddamn tub again?—"

"Whatever." She waves him off, her eyes narrowing at me. "What I want to know is, how did Electra even notice this? She's never in the studio unless we drag her in there." She's staring at me so hard I actually feel myself shifting my weight, trying to back up.

I shrug. "I… I don't know." Damn, she won't stop staring. "Wait – I think she mentioned she maybe went in looking for something? Anyway, everything is fine now."

CC's eyes narrow on me even more. "There's something you're not telling us."

Ryl tries to pull his wife away. "Honey, there's no reason to?—"

"He's after Electra!" she screeches. Her voice is so shrill that everyone around us stops in their tracks to stare.

Ray shoots them both a look. "What do you mean, after ? Are you implying that my son would?—"

"Knock it off, all of you." Everyone jumps at the commanding tone in my voice, but I've had enough.

I have about ten seconds to decide. Do I tell them right now that I'm in love with their daughter and that we're together? Or do I play it cool and leave that decision to Electra?

The worst thing in the world would be for my sweet girl to think that I'm ashamed of her and want to hide us. I get that she's very private, but the reality is, our families are going to find out.

Most of all, I will not have this overly dramatic woman thinking that I was taking advantage of their daughter, and that Electra is a weak little princess that needs saving.

God, I hope I'm making the right choice.

"I was at your house a fair bit over the weekend, since the plaster had to dry before I could paint. Electra and I ended up hanging out." I turn to Dad. "She's wonderful. You're going to like her a lot."

Then I turn back to CC's still-stony gaze. "Yes, we spent some time together, and I think she's amazing. I'll be asking her out to dinner as soon as possible."

Her mouth drops open, but before she can say anything, Ryl steps in. "Well, that's nice," he says smoothly. "I'm glad Electra has a new friend. And thanks for repairing the studio. Ray, if you could please send me the bill, and of course tack on the extra charges for having your poor son work over his whole weekend."

Dad seems dumbfounded, but nods. "W-will do."

Ryl wraps an arm around his wife and firmly leads her away to their car. I can hear her squawking, "But he's an electrician . What the hell would they even talk about?"

Dad's head shakes. "CC will not drop this, you know. She's going to be all up in your business if you start dating her daughter."

"I guess I'll just have to deal with that."

His eyes narrow. "And what's this about you picking up jobs on the side?"

"Dean is an electrician who, as I'm sure you know, works for Marty McGee. He's had a couple of jobs where he's needed an extra pair of hands, so I've jumped in to help. It's a bit of extra cash, and it's nice to work with someone my own age now and then…no offense."

He sighs, scrubbing his hand over his jaw. "You're not going to jump ship and work for McGee permanently or anything, right?"

"No, of course not. But I might pick up some extra work occasionally. A wider variety of projects. You going to be okay with that?"

His eyes finally meet mine, then he nods slowly. "As long as you don't take off on me completely, yeah, we're good."

"Good. Now I have to get back to the site and get this job done today."

I jump in the van and drive until I'm out of Dad's field of vision, then pull into the edge of the used car lot to text Electra to warn her about what's coming.

My hands are shaking on the steering wheel. I tried so hard to do everything right, yet I feel horrible. She wanted to keep this private, now both of our families already know about us. She didn't want her folks to find out she was in their studio, and they did. How can she trust me if I can't even keep those two secrets for her?

There's a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach.

After the magical weekend we've had together, especially when she's probably emotionally fragile after finishing that recording project, is this kind of stress too much too fast?