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“She said she stopped by the shop at lunch.” And then he’s laughing this sort of Kris Kringle laugh that has me wondering what the hell I’m doing hiding under this bed. “Gary didn’t pass that message along, huh?”
“No, but I see he told you about the smoke detector. Why don’t you leave that for me and I’ll take care of it.”
There’s a gruff sort of scoffing noise and I can tell already I’m not going anywhere because neither is he.
“Pop, I know how to do it.”
“I know you know how.” Something drags over the floor and lets out a metallic creak—a stepstool? “You know how to do everything. I’m betting you’re the one—” his voice sounds different, like he’s talking with his arms over his head, “—who patched the plaster too… This is why you will get the Shop and they will get to work for you. You’re the only one with any sense in your head.” There’s some more shuffling but I can’t tell what it is. “The only one I can trust to make the right decisions.” There’s a beep and a click and then a heavy step. “There.”
“Thank you,” George says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. Just like I could hear how proud her dad was of her.
“And now you have the whole night free.”
If it wouldn’t be weird, I’d call out my own thanks becausethe whole nightsounds damn good.
“That I do.” And that sounds like another smile. I’ve got it so bad for this girl.
I want to meet her dad. And soon. I want to look him in the eye and shake his hand—when I won’t go straight to hell for it. And then I want to help pack up George’s stuff and move her into my place. Or a place we pick together if she’d rather.
But before I do any of that, I want to make sure she knows how I feel. I haven’t been hiding it. But… I also haven’t actually said it.
I haven’t said it to anyone.
But I’ll say it to her.
I’ve lost track of the talk between George and her old man. He’s asking about receipts and she’s trying to answer as quickly as she can. I wish I could tell her to take her time, that I like hearing her with her family.
But her dad must get the drift because then he’s letting out a low chuckle. “Okay, I get it. You suddenly have a free night and without the boys knocking the walls down around you. Something tells me that banker of yours is about to have a change of plans too.”
Banker?
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Chapter 21
George
This is not happening.
Ready to puke, I turn as subtly as I can, half expecting to find Quinn climbing out from under the bed to confront me. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t make a sound.
Why didn’t I tell him about the banker thing?
Because I didn’t want to draw any more attention than necessary to the kind of reaction my family would have to my dating him.
And now he hears this.
“Umm, Pop—”
“I expect to meet him. Soon. Why don’t you bring him to Thanksgiving dinner?”
“About the banker.”
“I know. You like him. Even your idiot brothers can tell.” My dad leans in, pulling me into his big barrel chest for one of those rare hugs. “Relax, kid. I’ll go easy on him.”
It’s a nice fantasy, but if my father ever actually meets Quinn, no way will he go easy on him. But that’s a problem for another day. Now? I could tell him I ended it with the banker, but then how will I explain going out tonight and all the other nights I won’t be sleeping here? I won’t. No, this is the lesser evil. For now. So I smile and nod and hope that when the time comes, all the people I haven’t been straight with will forgive me.
Thankfully, my dad’s phone lights up with a call from one of his other businesses and he makes some complicated series of hand gestures I have no idea how to read. All that matters is he heads for the door rattling off a bunch of questions about a piece of equipment at the car wash.
