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We clungto each other for a long time, our breaths in time with one another.
I straightened. “What about your job at the garage?”
“Not going back.”
I frowned. “No more coveralls? Motor oil?”
“There’s gonna be plenty of that. Just from our place, not his.”
“Our place? Holt, this is your dream—”
“Our place. Our dream. Our future.” He was so sexy when he spoke like that.
“Our place.” I took a deep breath, giving that more thought. “Can we afford it? To fix up the building and keep up with everyday expenses?” I worried my lip between my teeth.
“It might get a little bit tight, but I’ve got a decent amount saved. Plus Roman isn’t going to make my resignation with the park services official until all my vacation time is used.” He grinned. “Still gettin’ paid.”
“Is that offer for the space upstairs still on the table?”
“Always.”
“Good. I think I’m going to need it sooner rather than later.”
“It’s all yours, Easy.”
“Welcome home, Grease Monkey. Welcome home.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Baker
Three weeks later . . .
“They’re moving fast.”
I surveyed the garage. Work was going on everywhere except the apartment.
“How was your day?” Holt slid an arm around my waist and kissed the side of my head.
“I’ve been nervous.”
“Me too,” he confessed.
“Is your Dad here yet?”
“On his way.” He steered me toward the back office. “All this dust flying, I don’t want to get your dress dirty.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “You got one very dirty at lunch yesterday.”
His chest puffed out. “I did, didn’t I?”
Two envelopes rested on the desk. Holt picked one up and held it out for me.
“What is it?”
“Open it and see.” He nudged my hand with the edge.
I slid my finger under the flap and unfolded the papers inside. My eyes scanned the document.
