Free Stardust Miracle by Edie Ramer

other people had known?
    She felt like a fool. A stupid fool.
    Fingers touched her shoulder and she jumped around to look straight into Trey’s concerned eyes. “You okay?” he asked.
    She nodded, not sure how her voice would sound.
    His eyebrows contracted, not buying it. She tried a smile, but felt it wobble.
    “I’m fine,” she said, hearing the throatiness in her voice and hoping he’d think it was sexy. Wasn’t sex what all men were supposed to think about? She’d read they thought about it once every seven waking seconds.
    No wonder the world was in trouble.
    He nodded at the mail. “Bad news?”
    She looked down and saw that the yellow sticky note was crumpled in her fist, and the other mail clamped against her chest. “Nope, not a thing.” She glanced up. “What did Marsh have to say?”
    Trey handed her the cell. “He can tell you himself.”
    Marsh asked her to take Trey to the third storage building where he kept the motorcycle parts and call him back with any offers. By the time she clicked off, she was breathing evenly again.
    So what if someone else knew that her husband was an asshole? Her soon-to-be ex-husband. After all, she’d behaved honorably. She had no reason to be ashamed. In fact, the note was Patty’s odd way of being supportive, letting Becky know that someone else knew and believed in her.
    It was good. From now on it was all good.
    From now on, that was her new motto: It’s all good.
    She gave Trey a smile that made his eyebrows sweep up. “I’ll be a moment. I need to change into my sneakers.”
    Five minutes later, Trey was happily looking through old rusty motorcycle parts while Becky wished she’d brought a book with her. At first, he told her what he wanted and then she called Marsh. But as the two men got into a heated back-and-forth price war, she finally gave Trey the cell, then stood back and watched his eyes burn bright. She guessed that Marsh’s eyes were doing the same thing. Probably the same as an orchestra leader leading an orchestra or a shopper finding the perfect pair of shoes on sale.
    When they agreed on a price that she thought was a lot for a rusty wheel, he handed the phone back to her. The phone-passing thing happened again and again, though she didn’t know how an old license plate cost three hundred dollars. Or an old rear bike fender was worth two hundred. But Trey was smiling like it was a bargain. For all the attention he paid her, she could’ve been walking around naked, letting it all hang out – literally – and he wouldn’t blink.
    She told him to keep the phone while he continued to look around. There was an old car seat on the side, and she sat on it, her legs stretched out on the wooden floor. Closing her eyes, she dozed off, fuzzily aware that she trusted Trey and Marsh more than Jim or her father.
    Of course, they could turn out to be rats, too. Maybe she just didn’t know them well enough.
    But she still let herself fall asleep.
    An arm around her shoulder aroused her. Trey. She felt his bicep. Still drowsy, her eyes still closed, she recognized his scent. She murmured and turned her face toward him, the sweatshirt material of his long-sleeved top soft under her cheek. Lethargy tugged at her. Thinking to lean into him a bit more, she raised her face.
    He must’ve been leaning down because their lips met.
    Instantly awake, she felt his arm stiffen and knew this kiss wasn’t his plan, even though he’d sat beside her. He started to pull back, and inside her rose up a loud, clamoring ‘No!’
    She reached up, curved her hands around his neck and drew him to her.
    He resisted for one second, then he sighed. A sound of surrender. She kept her eyes closed, because right now she wanted to feel . Not look, not talk, not think. Just feel and smell and taste.
    With an almost inaudible moan, he kissed her. His mouth opened, and hers parted under his. His hands on her back drew her against his chest.
    The kiss went on and on. And it was good,