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I thought of Miranda and her playful eyebrows and sneaky smiles looking like a damn crazy person.
I smiled thinking about her syrupy sweet voice when she’d shaken Weston’s hand. I hadn’t yet had the chance to tell her he’d shown up at the salon demanding me in his bed. I could just picture her excitement and I let out a little giggle at the thought.
“What?” Weston called out from underneath my truck.
“Nothing,” I sang back, wanting to laugh again because he’d heard me. I rolled my eyes at myself and gnawed on a fingernail.
I’d told Miranda about my trip to Weston’s the day of my anniversary, but I hadn’t told her about my breakdown on the side of the road afterward.
I was warming up to her, for sure. But I wasn’t ready for that, yet. There were some things, some moments that I wasn’t ready to share. Maybe I never would.
But today had been something else, Holden and her. I was glad at least she’d had the good sense to get him out of here before everything had gone awry. Because I could tell neither man was yielding in that moment. It was strangely…sexy.
After they’d left, we headed to Auto Zone for a replacement for some kind of battery connector. We’d come back here and Weston’s big self somehow managed to roll my truck into the garage. I’d found a box of Andy’s old tools and set them next to Weston as he looked under the hood. I didn’t have the slightest clue whether they’d be helpful, but it seemed like the thing to do.
After standing around for fifteen minutes twiddling my damn thumbs, I’d promptly found an old stool and parked my behind on it. And if I thought that this man would stop at just fixing a few plugs, I was dead-ass wrong. Because an hour later and he’d managed to find the stuff to change the oil in my truck as well, with a muttered, “It’s past time,” after he’d checked it.
Weston Reeves was a man of few words, but those words counted because he sure as hell always got his point across.
He worked silently and moved swiftly around my garage like he’d always been there, tinkering with my truck. And I sat there watching like it was completely normal to do so. Still, I found it odd, a man in my home in general. Even more strange was that he felt like he belonged there.
He only spoke to me when he needed something he couldn’t find or wanted me to hand him a part he’d laid next to the truck.
I looked around and almost smiled again at us being in the garage. Again. Even if it was mine this time. Was the garage our place? Did friends with benefits have a place?
I held in another laugh. It seemed like I had been doing that a lot lately. It felt good. Laughing again.
“Hand me the wrench, Slugger,” he bossed me, so I got up and grabbed the thing I thought was possibly a wrench and passed it to him under the truck. His hand shot out, his fingers brushing against mine. And that inevitable pull between us was there, just like always. That zing of electricity that sparked, it was addictive. I wanted to grab his hand and hold it between my own.
Instead, I let the wrench go and walked away like the smart woman I was.
Friends. Casual. Fun. I could do this. The garage was not our place. Fuck buddies didn’t have a place.
I was just about to sit back down on my stool when a little red Hyundai pulled into the drive behind Weston’s bike.
The same little red Hyundai that pulled in a couple of days ago and dropped Parker off from school.
I panicked, pulling my phone from my back pocket. Holy shit. Where had the day gone? It was two forty-five.
Oh. My. God. I watched in horror as Parker opened the door to the red car, eyeing the Harley in the drive.
What the hell was I going to do? I couldn’t let my daughter meet my hook-up. What the hell kind of mom was I forgetting the time? And to my horror, her friend, I think her name was Prisha, from what Parker had told me, exited the car’s driver’s side.
Jesus, Lord help me. I was about to meet my daughter’s first friend from school and they were both about to meet the man I was having casual sex with.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I whispered. Looking around like maybe I could hide somewhere so I didn’t have to explain this shit. Then I realized, I didn’t need to hide.
I could just hide Weston. He was underneath the truck, anyway. No one would notice, right? I mean, I could just meet them in the driveway and head them off.
“Stay under the truck,” I whisper-yelled before walking quickly to meet them.
I plastered a panicked smile on my face and pretended I didn’t have a hot man under my truck in the garage.
“Heyyyy!” I said probably way too loud and way too enthusiastically.
Parker looked at me like I’d lost my mind and her friend, who was a really beautiful Indian girl with long dark hair and rich brown eyes, stared at me with her own panicked smile.
Shit, I was making everyone nervous with my crazy.
