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It’s back to its normal state, any trace of it once being Santa’s workshop gone.
Kind of like the woman who’d created the workshop in the first place.
I head out to the garage and punch the buttons to close the bay doors.
Once that’s done, I head upstairs where I eat a sandwich I don’t taste and take a scalding shower I don’t feel.
I’ve been going through the motions ever since I heard Lia went back to Seattle a few days ago.
It was the nail in the coffin for me.
I went on a solo whiskey bender that night. I was in no mood to go out and see the cheery festive decorations or be hit on by drunk women in town to see the sights. The thought of another woman touching me makes me physically ill.
One day, I’ll have to move on, I know.
But so far that day hasn’t arrived.
Hours stretch out in front of me until I have to be at Mom’s for Christmas Eve dinner. I don’t have a fucking clue what to do with all this time on my hands.
I try to watch the latest Hollie Berry Christmas movie. I usually enjoy watching the beautiful actress, but after thirty minutes, I turn it off, unable to follow the storyline since my mind keeps drifting.
Sleep eludes me, so napping is out.
I’ve avoided the back garage, not wanting to be reminded of the last time I was out there.
While I may not be able to move on in other areas, I need to man up so that I can do my job.
The only light of this past week is that the contractors I want to use for the renovations are available to start after the holidays. I had to hang on to that news just to survive day to day.
If I’m lucky, the restoration business will be up sooner than later. But that means I need to work on my projects.
I head out the back and into the gray, cold December day. It suits my mood perfectly. At least the weather gods are cutting me a break.
The door creaks open and I turn on the light. The garage lights up to reveal the Mustang and old truck. I blow out a breath and head over to Cherry Horse and pop the hood.
“Just you and me, girl. I think from now on I’ll just stick to hot cars. No heartbreak with that.”
I pick up a wrench and lean under the hood as the side door slams behind me.
“We’re closed.”
“Funny, because the door was open.”
I close my eyes hearing her voice. I’ve got to be dreaming.
Because the woman whose voice I hear in my head doesn’t want me and is on the other side of the country.
“Hi, Jake.”
Slowly, I back out from under the hood and turn. Then blink twice.
Lia stands in the middle of the garage, her eyes on me.
She’s dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, jeans, and boots, her dark hair in a bun on top of her head. A red scarf is tied around her neck, matching her lipstick.
Jesus, she’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her.
I drop the wrench onto the nearby tray and cross my arms. “What do you want, Lia?”
