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Tea
Then
The garage is a hub of agitated activity when we walk in through the side door. I keep my back to the wall, attempting to make myself as invisible as possible. Freddy and I may have been inseparable for weeks, but I still haven’t met his family yet. And right now, with my back pressed against the cold wall and my hands starting to tingle with anxiety-induced sweat, I’m not sure I want to. I’m sorry but a family of boys is intimidating on any level, especially when you’ve been thrown into the deep end and turn up at their work to interrupt their pre-Christmas rush.
Freddy laughs when he sees me cowering, which isn’t that supportive at all. I narrow my eyes in a silent gesture, willing him to shut the hell up, but he ignores me and carries on laughing.
“It’s okay.” He leans in and flutters a soft kiss across my lips, his body briefly pressing against my own which is enough to get me agitated in an entirely different way. “They don’t bite.”
I’m not sure I agree, because as his mouth is just lowering itself down to mine for another breath-stealing kiss, a growl thunders from the other side of the room. “Put the girl down and do what you’re paid for.”
Rude.
He pulls away, the ocean blues performing their familiar dance. “You can work at the desk over there if you like?” He points out a desk; well, it could be a desk, but it’s hard to tell by the sheer immense load of paper it’s holding.
“Do you guys not put anything on the computer?” I query, looking up at him with a questioning glance. I kind of assumed since the world didn’t get overrun by errant computers when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s three years ago, that most businesses were now using the new-fangled idea of a computer, database, maybe even a lever-arch file.
Freddy has his back to the rest of the room so silently mouths, “No,” at me while at the same time nodding his head and speaking out loud “Sure, some thing’s, occasionally, a few times perhaps.”
“Stop arsing about, Fred, and get the hell on with this, otherwise your holiday is cancelled.” I glance up towards the source of the majorly pissed-off voice and see his older brother, still dressed in suit pants but with his sleeves rolled up. He’s attractive, sure, but not a patch on Freddy, and with that personality, he doesn’t stand a chance of matching up to his younger brother.
“Fred?” I question, trying to ignore the towering persona of anger glowering at me. Then I think of what the moody one has just said. “Time off?” I ask with a pitch of excitement entering my voice.
Freddy now turns and glares at his older brother. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” His voice is harsher than I would have thought possible. Usually, he’s softly spoken with a faint Suffolk burr to his tone. The cross voice is quite sexy though. It’s even sexier when it’s accompanied by him tugging his shirt up and over his shoulder, revealing just a black vest underneath.
“Why are you getting naked?” I lean in and whisper, trying to wrench my eyes away from the smooth curve of his shoulders and the bare muscles of steel.
Turning towards me, he winks and says, “Because I’m taking my girlfriend out tonight and she won’t like it if I’m covered in grease.”
I stop myself from blurting, ‘I wouldn’t count on that. Actually, she thinks it’s hot’.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough. You’re on the clock,” speaks a voice I can’t put to a physical form. A pair of boots I’ve been too distracted to notice, slide out from under the car, centre stage, and I watch as an older man gets up. He looks nothing like Freddy or his cave-man older brother, but Freddy quickly steps in and says, “Dad, meet Amber French.”
I keep my expression neutral to hide my surprise at how much older his dad is than I was expecting. “Hi. Nice to meet you, sir.” I say, holding out my hand as he wipes his own on a rag and then clasps them around mine.
“Any good at making tea, love? These boys of mine are rubbish, and I’m gasping for a cuppa.”
Okay, this is so not the person I was expecting. I was expecting some smooth, wealthy, local businessman. Not a man in his sixties, dressed in overalls. It’s been years since I have seen him, not since I was ten and Dad took me to a boring car rally that I sulked through. The Bales were there racing. I remember the car because it was a beautiful blue, and I remember the dad because he was shaking everyone’s hands after they won.
What on earth has happened in the last eight years for him to age that way?
“I can make tea,” I lie with a smile, which I hope doesn’t obviously say, please like me. “I’d love to see the car you’re making though, if you’ve got time.”
“Oh, this is a cracker right here, Freddy.” He laughs. His dad turns to Freddy, who has already walked over to the car, and I watch as his eyes light up and dance when they rest on his son. “Come on then, young lady, let me show you and then I’ve got some jobs for you to do.”
“What? Sorry, I mean pardon?” I follow him to the car and ignore Freddy, who’s laughing as he slides underneath it.
“Invoicing. A smart, young girl like you can do that, right?”
No. Not sure I can. “Yeah, I can try.”
“Right then, let me give you the tour.” He takes my elbow in his hand and walks me over to the far side of the garage where a car is hidden beneath a dirty sheet. “So this is our racer at the moment.” He slides the cover back and I take in the gleaming paintwork and chrome of the classic car.
“Nice.”
“Yep, Freddy’s gonna be racing her tomorrow.”
I stare at him for a long moment while I process what he’s saying. “Freddy?”
