“You look amazing.” The words were out before she could stop them as she placed her hand in his.
“That’s what I was thinking about you.” His words sent a thrill down her spine, and her hand tingled as it rested in his. “I guess I’d better warn you that I’ve never danced before.”
“What? Never?” She stepped into his arms, as natural as breathing.
He began to sway, slowly. “No.”
“What about high school? What about those dances?”
“I asked a girl once, and she told me no.” His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, although his expression stayed serious. “I didn’t really want to go anyway. Not without her.”
There was that burning again. Jealousy. She would never have called herself a jealous person. “Who did you ask?”
“Eh, it was back in seventh grade. I guess I thought I was grown up and she was too.”
“So you really liked her?” He must have to have asked her to a dance.
“Yeah.” Just one word, breathed out softly, but it was so heavy, so full of things he wasn’t saying.
“You still like her?”
His pristine white shirt rose and fell as he took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Yeah.”
Acid, hot and burning, exploded in her stomach. There was no other word for it; she was jealous, insanely jealous of this girl, now woman, whom Tough liked. Who had told him no. Who had been the only other woman he’d asked to dance with. Of course, he was only dancing with Kelly because they had to.
“Who was she?” The question came out more like a demand.
He looked down, and the eddy of his brown eyes was deeper than she could have guessed. “You.”
She stopped dancing. He stopped with her. She shook her head in denial, even as she sorted through her childhood memories. Tough had never asked her to a dance. They didn’t even go to the same school. “No. It wasn’t me. You never asked me.”
His hands put pressure on her shoulders, and she began moving again, woodenly. His hands slipped around her waist.
“I did.”
“When? How? Where were we?”
“You were at Preston’s house.”
That made sense. That’s pretty much where she lived.
“You were with a crowd of friends. I walked, man, it was several hours from where I lived then to Preston’s house. I wasn’t going to ask you in front of all of them, but they saw me.”
Realization came over Kelly the way a flood turns a river brown. “I never spoke with you. They just shouted over to where I was sitting on the pavilion that some boy was walking down the street and wanted to take me to a dance.” She’d caught a glimpse of him—torn jeans, ratty t-shirt, scuffed shoes, tall, and skinny, she remembered vaguely now. “I hadn’t known it was you.”
His finger rubbed over her back. “You wouldn’t have known me anyway.”
She shivered from the light touch that spread fire through her blood. “I would’ve remembered you. How could I forget the boy who’d saved me?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I can see it now, but at the time, I thought...I guess I thought...I don’t know what I thought.” He shook his head, and for the first time, he broke eye contact, looking over her shoulder the way he had when they first met.
Her heart constricted. Could hearts cry? That’s what it felt like, like her heart was crying, but her eyes remained dry. Obviously, he believed she would have turned him down, even if he’d been able to ask her directly, even if she’d known who he was. Would she?
She had been deeply entrenched in the popular, wealthy lifestyle, but she’d never, not once, lost sight of where she’d come from or what she wanted to do when she was able. She’d also never forgotten the dirty, scrappy, quiet little boy who’d taken her where he knew someone wanted her.
“I would have said yes, if I’d known it was you.” She said it with confidence because she knew it was true. She’d never cared at all what everyone else thought. She’d been focused on helping other people. Always.
Tough looked back down at her. “I believe you. But I also think you made the right choice.”
There seemed to be more to his words, a meaning that she wasn’t sure she really understood, because he didn’t know what she was struggling with, didn’t know that she had to make another, similar choice. But his tone almost implied that he did and that he thought she should not choose him again. How could that be?
The song ended. For a space, his arms seemed to tighten, like he didn’t want to let her go, but then they dropped. White teeth contrasted with the dark tan and eyes, and it raised his level of handsomeness to a whole new point.
“The dance was worth the wait. Thanks.” He took her elbow and guided her to her chair, where he’d found her, leaving her there.
The rest of the reception went by in a haze. She caught a glimpse of Tough dancing with one twin in each arm and another of him grinning, yes, grinning, at Torque and slapping him on the back.
And then it was over, and she went home, alone.
Chapter 13
Tough couldn’t believe he’d admitted so much to Kelly. He’d practically told her he’d been in love with her all his life. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably true. He’d also practically told her that he knew she had a choice to make and, although it would hurt him, he wanted her to make the right choice. The choice she’d made before.
His chest hurt from the war between his head and heart. Kelly needed to choose, should choose someone else. But every smile she sent his way, every touch, every moment he spent with her made him long for and hope for her to choose him. The war inside his body wouldn’t stop.
Still, there was a glow in his heart that he just couldn’t shake, not that he wanted to. He felt light and happy like he hadn’t felt in years. Who was he kidding? Hadn’t felt in forever.
“You’re humming today?” Mr. Sigel barked from the checker table.
He was. He was humming. The song, whatever it was, that he’d danced to with Kelly. He was humming that song. “Nope. Must be your hearing aid acting up again,” he hollered across the garage.
“Hurumph,” Mr. Sigel said before turning back to his checkers and a thoughtful Al, who nodded.
“He was humming.” Al picked up his red king and jumped Mr. Sigel’s only king.
Tough wiped off a wrench. Kelly would be over on the other side tonight, and he’d help her renovate, he’d enjoy every second, and soon she’d be moving in with her passel of kids.
He jerked at the thought, banging his head on the tire of the car on the lift. She’d choose Preston, and he’d have to live and work with Kelly every day. No. No way. He couldn’t do that. He’d definitely have to think of something. Moving the garage or...something.
That’s what had to happen. Her life going in one direction, his in another. Depressing.
He wasn’t going to let it get him down today, though. He was definitely basking in the afterglow.
Right at five, Kelly walked into the shop. He’d never seen her in jeans and a tee before. It threw him off a little because she looked good. More than good. Never in his life had he been tempted to put his tools down and go hug someone, but he fought that urge today.
“Be done here in a minute,” he called. He didn’t like to leave a messy shop.
“I hope you don’t mind, but Dusty is coming later and bringing pizza.”
“This boy don’t turn food down,” Mr. Sigel said.
“Oh, are you helping?” Kelly asked with a smile.
“I’m supervising. Off the clock. I’m union.”
“You were union,” Al said. “Not something to be proud of, necessarily.” He pointed a finger at his own chest. “I am actually helping.”
Tough walked to the sink and squirted degreaser on his hands, rubbing it up his arms to his t-shirt sleeves. “Al was a contractor before he sold his business and retired. He helped me make the walls in here, hang the ceiling, do the wiring and plumbing.” He waved his ar
m around, indicating the whole garage.
“The crooked doorjambs are not my fault. The building isn’t square.”
“Oh.” Kelly nodded, and Tough snorted.
“It’s the reason you fell in my office that day.”
Kelly’s head jerked up. Something flashed across her face. Maybe she was remembering that he’d caught her, that they’d been tangled up, that he’d seen all of her long, shapely leg.
He looked away first and finished rinsing off his hands and arms. The degreaser took off the better part of the day’s grime, but if he wanted to be truly clean—no grease at all—he had to cut skin. He’d done it for the wedding, and he often did it for church, but not for too much else. Working with Kelly? If he had time, he figured he would. There wasn’t too much he wouldn’t do for her. Unfortunately, there was a lot he couldn’t do. If only his stupid heart could remember that.
The old men shuffled over with Kelly. Tough followed after shutting everything down and flipping the “CLOSED” sign over.
He’d done handyman work before, he’d even done jobs in high school with Al, but he was glad of Al’s presence, because he took one look at the room and didn’t have the foggiest idea of where to begin. He supposed that was the way some people felt when they lifted the hood of their car—nothing made sense to them. So, as Al gave orders, he gladly obeyed, doing mostly the grunt work of carrying large, heavy pieces of garbage out to the dumpster they’d had delivered when Kelly signed the papers. He also ran some air hoses and extension cords through from the shop to run the saws and other power tools.
It was dark and turning chilly by the time Dusty arrived with the pizza. They sat on buckets of spackling and boxes of screws.
“You can keep carrying everything out,” Al said between bites. “Once we get it all gutted, then we get started with the fun stuff.”
“Okay. I can keep working on it in the evenings. I might even be able to get some time in before work,” Kelly said. “I want to get it finished as fast as we can. Every day it’s not open is a day that the kids couldn’t be here and be safe.”
“If you can get the boy here out of bed, maybe he’d come over and help you,” Mr. Sigel said gruffly but with an affectionate twinkle in his eye.
“I might be able to drag my bones out by noontime. What time does work start, two?” Tough ribbed Mr. Sigel.
“Honestly, boy, don’t know what I’m gonna do with you. Never amount to anything if you can’t get up in the morning.” Mr. Sigel waved his half-empty coffee cup around.
They joked a little until Dusty spoke up, “Oh, Kelly. Did you hear? Someone on the news said that they’ve figured out who Dr. T is! They’re going to ‘unmask’ him at some big show on TV. Maybe they’re trying to drum up viewers.” She laughed a little and bounced in her seat.
“Oh, wow. Now we’ll finally know if it’s a he or a she.”
“It’s a she,” Harris said with confidence.
“Who’s Dr. T?” Mr. Sigel asked.
Dusty launched into an explanation, helped by Kelly, while Tough sat, stunned. They knew who he was? Did it have something to do with him going to daily posts? Had they traced him through his credit card processor? Surely they would have contacted him and told him. He couldn’t say for sure.
Anxiety tightened his chest, pulled at his muscles. Not only that he would lose income he was counting on to keep helping his elderly patrons because people wouldn’t think a mechanic with no background in psychology and no actual experience in relationships could run an advice column, but also because...people would want him to talk. There would be video cameras, news people, interview requests.
He realized his jaw was locked, and he deliberately loosened it. He looked up to see Kelly considering him. “You don’t like advice columns?”
Oh, wow. He was skating on thin ice here. “Car columns.”
She lowered her head. “Relationship columns.”
He spread his arms, indicating his garage and the old men. “Don’t need ’em.”
“This is all you want out of life?” she asked softly. “Didn’t seeing Torque get married make you want...more?”
It had. Of course it had. He’d always wanted more, wanted Kelly. But she wasn’t for him, and he’d accepted that long ago. Plus, he’d loved his mother, and she’d died. That was the way his life went. “Didn’t change anything.” Which was the truth.
“Well, it’s about time to get my old bones in bed,” Al said as he stood up.
They cleaned up the garbage from the pizza. Tough caught Kelly alone as he walked it out to the dumpster. “What time you coming in the morning? I’ll help.”
She stopped, her blond hair bouncing as she shook her head. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I already appreciate your help so much. It doesn’t take any special skill to get this place cleaned up.”
“What time?”
She laughed. He loved that sound.
“I can make it by five. That gives me a good three and a half hours before I have to be at work.”
“I’ll be here.” He snorted. “I’ll be up.”
“Right. Since you’ll already be here.”
He stopped, resisting the urge to touch her, to pull her close. “I’ll wait and make sure you get in your car okay.”
She looked like she was going to argue, but she just said, “Thanks.”
He watched her walk away, the jeans doing something odd to his insides, and wished it were possible for her to be his.
“I DIDN’T PACK A LUNCH, but my stomach is telling me it’s time to take a break.” Kelly stood on a ladder, painting the walls. It was Saturday, and she was impressed with the amount of work they’d gotten done. She really didn’t know where Tough got all his energy, either. He’d work from five in the morning until after she left at nine most nights.
“It’s 12,” he said, shoving the drill back into the tool belt he wore around his slim waist.
“Is there anywhere around where we can eat? My treat.”
“I’ll take you to Pop’s. It’s just up the street.”
Tough took her painting things to his shop to rinse them out, while she closed the can and tidied things up. She hurried over to wash her hands.
“How far is Pop’s?” she asked.
“Just up the street a block. The owners are Greek, and they’ve got some good stuff.”
They put jackets on against the late October chill and stepped out. Her hand brushed Tough’s, and he jerked, turning to look at her. “Sorry,” he said.
She shrugged.
He studied her for a moment. She smiled.
They waited at the corner for a slow car, and Tough touched her hand again. This time, he didn’t apologize.
Their fingers touched, twisted, and by the time they started across the street, her hand nestled in his. She didn’t pull away, and neither did he as they walked along.
She liked the feeling, his hand holding hers, but didn’t want to examine it too closely. Preston was always in the back of her mind. She had to talk to him, had to figure out where they were going. Phone service and times had been spotty. She might have been able to break it off with him while he was gone but not with a text. Guilt twisted in her chest, but she pushed it aside. When Preston got home, she would deal with their agreement.
Instead she relished the warm safety that she always felt when with Tough, even more now that he held her hand.
He stopped at a small store, right on the sidewalk. Pop’s was painted in blue letters over the door. Store advertisements and specials lined the door and the lower part of the large windows along the sidewalk. Tough opened the door with his free hand and held it while she walked in. He didn’t let go of her, and she didn’t try to get her hand back. It was too nice holding it. She didn’t want to think any farther than that.
A dark-haired man with a big, round belly greeted them. “Tough. You are here once again. And you have a pretty girl with you. That is new, no?”
Kelly could swear the tips of Tough
’s ears turned pink, but his face remained calm. “I got me a pretty one today, Bemus. I wanna feed her. You’ll help me out?” Tough asked.
“Oh, sure. That is what we do.”
The menu was above the counter, and Kelly studied it. “We order here,” Tough said to her, “and pay. And then we choose our seat, and they bring it to us.”
“Okay.”
Tough ordered and bantered some with Bemus, which gave Kelly time to peruse the menu so she was ready to order when he asked. After paying, Tough grabbed plasticware, napkins, and her hand and led her around the corner to a small alcove tucked in the back.
Kelly slid into her chair at the small table. Grape leaves hung on the walls, and although the table was out of sight for most of the restaurant, it didn’t feel claustrophobic or dark. “I love this table,” she said as Tough sat down across from her. “If I’d been here myself,” who was she kidding, she would have never come in here on her own, “I wouldn’t have taken the time to find this table.”
Tough lifted a shoulder. “Suits me.”
Kelly snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
Tough seemed to consider whether she was serious or not, then he said, “Food’s good. It’s what counts.”
She tilted her head, looking at the various plants that gave the restaurant an outdoorsy feel. “In a restaurant, I supposed you’re right.”
Tough followed her gaze before looking back at her. “I’m not going to be able to help you this Saturday.”
“Oh, hot date?” The words slipped out of her mouth, and she wished she could grab them and shove them back in.
But his lips twitched, and he said, “Maybe.” He looked down and fiddled with his napkin, before he met her eyes again. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to come.”
“Oh.” Her stomach dropped.
“It’s a charity truck pull. I usually take the tow truck and volunteer mechanical services.” He twisted the napkin tighter around the silverware before he set them down and carefully folded his hands on the table.
Kelly drew her brows together. “A charity truck pull? Never heard of it.”
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