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“Wait, wait. There’re more of you?” Paisley asked, leaning forward so she could look at him. I tried not to let it bug me how her gaze raked over him with appreciation dripping from her eyeballs.
He chuckled, his own eyes on the road as he turned toward his family’s auto shop. “Three more, yeah.”
“Bless your parents,” she said.
I cut her a look. “Hush, Pais.”
“Sorry.”
Turning back to Everett—and then regretting it when I saw him looking at me with a curious expression—I went back to the topic. “What are Adam and Jackson doin’ now that they’re out?”
“Adam’s a cop—he was military police while he was in the Marines. And Jackson was a medic in the navy, so he’s a paramedic here in town now.”
I put my hands on my chest, genuinely happy to hear about his brothers’ lives. “I love that for Jackson. When we were kids, he was always the one lookin’ after the rest of us kids when we fell out of trees or what have you. And that’s great about Adam. He always was a little snitch.”
Everett let out a loud, rolling laugh, then elbowed me playfully. “Watch it, you.”
“What about you, Everett? Did you join the military?” Paisley asked, causing my heart to drop into my stomach. She already freaking knew that since I’d just told her. What is she doing?
Everett’s expression turned stony in an instant. Not because of his military service, since by the time he’d gotten out after his four-year commitment, he’d been grateful for his time in and excited for the next chapter.
No, he was remembering the same thing I was. That the day I’d gone off to Nashville to chase my dreams and he’d followed in his daddy’s footsteps and joined the Marines. It’d been the start of the end for us. Or maybe he was thinking about how he’d used his backpay after saving up a bunch of leave days to buy me the ring he’d proposed with. Or even how he’d gotten out of the Marines just in time for Christmas and surprised me with it. And after that … well, it was over.
“Sure did,” he finally said.
If Paisley noticed the change in the mood, she didn’t let on. “Really? What did you do in the Marines?”
Everett waved a hand like it should be obvious, given his brothers’ stories. “I was a mechanic.”
“Wow, never would have guessed. Why didn’t y’all just start working in your chosen fields here in town instead of joining the military first?”
“The Wilson boys come from a long line of military men, so it was kind of expected,” I explained. “But that didn’t mean they had to make a career out of it.”
“Travis wants to, though. He says he’s stayin’ in until they kick his old bones out,” Everett told us, his tone a little lighter now.
“I can definitely see that,” I said.
“Yeah. Momma misses him though.”
My heart squeezed, knowing how much my own momma missed me. “I bet. How’s she doing? And your dad?”
“Both are just fine. Dad’s almost ready for retirement, though, so I’ll be takin’ over the shop soon … if the good Lord’s willin’ and the creek don’t rise.”
He pulled into the lot of Wilson Automotive just as he recited his father’s familiar saying, and a wave of nostalgia hit me like a freight train. The amount of time I spent here growing up made this place as familiar as the back of my hand.
First, as a kid, running around with Everett and getting in his dad’s way. Then as his study buddy in middle school, both of us learning a little more about cars in between doing homework. And finally, as his girlfriend in high school, drooling over how hot he looked with the top half of his jumpsuit hanging low around his hips while his sweaty white tank top clung to his lean torso.
“Your family owns this shop?” Paisley asked, jerking me from my thoughts.
“We sure do. Accordin’ to the sign, anyway. If that ain’t the case, don’t tell my old man.” Everett parked in front of the open garage door and jerked his head toward the building. “Come on, Dad’ll wanna say hi, and then I’ll let you ladies get on your way. I’m sure your momma’s eager to see you, Lane.”
“She is, yeah. Thanks.”
I could have slid out of the truck behind Paisley. I should have, in fact. But no, my traitorous body inched over the gray leather seat toward the driver’s side after Everett. He turned back and took my hand like it was no big thing, helping me down with an easy smile that had my breath hitching.
I wish I could say I got out with even a tinch of grace, but dang it, of course not. I practically fell out of the dumb truck, the slick bottom of my boot sliding right off the footboard.
Without missing a beat, Everett caught me, his strong arms holding steady until I had my feet under me. But the feel of those strong arms through his jumpsuit only caused me to feel plum unsteady, and I suddenly found myself hoping he wouldn’t let go too soon.
