Bryn’s Gran—Ruby—shrugs, feigning innocence. “A wonderful uber driver, she is. I’ll be sure to tip well.”
“In red wine,” Nate’s grandma quips.
“Yes, and lunch, as you’ve reminded me.” Ruby’s gaze sweeps over the rest of us. “Hello, boys.”
A chorus of greetings ring out, with Liam declaring he’d hug the woman if not for being a dripping, sweaty mess. But her attention lands on me, scanning me up and down. My fingers were working on getting my jacket undone, but they pause as she appraises me.
“Wyatt Dalton.”
I tip my head to her, putting a palm over my heart like I would if I’d just taken my hat off out of respect for a lady. “Ma’am.”
A smile springs to her face, but it quickly smooths out, her eyes darting down and then back up. “Well, continue what you were doing. Take it off. Let’s see you.”
“Ma’am?”
“Did I stutter? The jacket, Wyatt,” she says, waving her good hand along the length of my body.
A few snickers go through the guys, but it’s Nate’s grandma who responds, “Don’t worry, she won’t bite. We just like to come by sometimes and see the goods. Gives these old ladies a thrill.”
“Grandma!” Nate’s surprise is genuine, redness creeping up his neck.
“What? Oh, don’t look at me like that,” the white-haired woman scolds. “I’m old, Nathan, not blind. It’s not like this is anything scandalous.”
“I could help with that, though, Mrs. Miller.” Liam, who is already out of his bunker gear and in shorts and a t-shirt, starts to lift the hem of his shirt.
“Christ,” Nate mutters.
“You’re old news, Liam,” Ruby says without turning to look at the man whose mouth is hanging agape. “We’d like to see more of the new one.”
“Should I do a little dance for you too?” I ask, shaking my hips from side to side as I work on the fasteners on my jacket. “I’m not sure if I should feel awkward or flattered while being objectified like this.”
“Both.”
She watches carefully as I finish unzipping the jacket, sliding it off my shoulders. The relief is immediate, even though the air is hot. I can feel the breeze now that the gear is off. I’m drenched in sweat, and I pull the protective hood off my head, a sigh of relief escaping me before I can stop it. The air is cool against my neck. It was only an extra minute or so of being in my jacket, but it was longer than I wanted to be in it.
“Bryn mentioned you rebuilt that truck you drive.”
Dropping my jacket on the pavement, I pick up the water bottle I discarded and take another swig before nodding.
“Old Betty.” The smile is immediate and involuntary. “My pride and joy.”
“So, you’re a handy guy to have around?” she inquires, raising an arched eyebrow. It makes the still healing wound push skywards, but she doesn’t flinch. It’s been a few weeks, and looks like it’s almost to the point of a scar.
Shrugging, I push the suspenders from my pants off my shoulders, dropping the water bottle onto my jacket. “I’d like to think so. Grew up on a ranch, had to know how to do lots ofthings.”
Glancing over her shoulder, I realize Nate now has his back to us, and it’s formed a semi-circle that includes everyone except Ruby and me. Giving us the illusion of some privacy, but I know all those assholes are listening, even while they talk to Nate’s grandma.
“How are you with fences?”
I sputter a laugh. “A specialty of mine. Ranch life.”
She hums, nodding thoughtfully. “Electrical? Can you do that?”
My eyes narrow slightly as I nod, pushing my pants down my legs.
“Patching walls?”
Again, I nod, stepping out of my boots and pants.
