With a wounded expression, he stepped back. Sighing, he ran a hand through his thick hair and those messy strands fell right back to the place they were before. My fingers itched to brush them off his forehead, so I linked my hands behind my back.
“Thanks for dinner.” Moving toward the door Jimmy gave me a sad smile, and I found myself torn between wanting him to leave and begging him to stay.
This time as I watched him walk away, I was certain I’d scared him off for good.
The squirrels of Tolson were fearless, vicious creatures. They had no regard for personal safety, and their lack of respect for garbage cans on trash day was appalling.
A few of the guilty rodents scurried up a tree as I got out of my car and surveyed my yard. Water bottles, leftover food, and paper plates littered the lawn. I let out a mortified squeak when I saw a few tampons among the wreckage.
Quickly grabbing a new bag from inside, I picked up everything as fast as I could while hoping none of the neighbors got an eyeful of my personal items.
This morning I’d made a trip to Walmart to get some ingredients for a new Crockpot creation I wanted to try.
I might’ve Googled recipes last night after Jimmy left.
Of course, it was pure coincidence that the beef stew I wanted to make happened to be on a site called ‘The Way to a Man’s Heart’. It had absolutely nothing to do with me hoping Jimmy would smell it and find his way back over to my house. Nope. Not at all. Pure coincidence.
After cleaning up the trash and placing it at the curb, I got my groceries from the backseat of my car. I was walking up the driveway when I noticed my mailbox door was slightly ajar. The mail usually arrived later in the day, but I decided to check anyway.
A lone envelope sat inside. No stamp. No return address. Frowning with confusion, I ripped it open to find a folded-up piece of paper.
When my eyes scanned over the typed-out letters, the blood drained from my face and the bags slipped from my fingers. A can of cream of celery soup dropped onto my big toe, but I barely felt the pain. My knees almost gave out and I had to steady myself on the mailbox as I reread the note.
With one sentence, the sanctuary I’d built for myself came crashing down.
“What do you want first? The good news or the bad news?” Hank asked, stepping up to the counter.
I frowned. Bad news? Not exactly what I wanted to hear.
“Always the good news first,” I told him.
“Well, your A/C wasn’t hard to fix. Spark plug issue. And we threw in a free oil change.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I was about due for that.”
He nodded. “Now for the bad news. Your alternator was shot and had to be replaced. Fortunately, Travis was able to pick up the parts when he was passing through Champaign yesterday, but they weren’t cheap.”
Fuck. “How much is the total?”
“Two thousand dollars.”
Shocked, I choked on air and started coughing. The whole damn car wasn’t even worth that much.
Wild laughter erupted from Hank.
“I’m just kidding!” Bending over, he clutched his middle as he laughed some more. “That’s what I call ‘the shock and awe.’”
“The what?” I gasped through another cough.
“The real total is $360. Still not cheap, but doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”
Relieved, and still trying to recover from the ‘shock’ part, I grinned as Hank gave me a couple firm pats on the back. He was right—$360 was a lot better than $2,000.
Still, that was $360 more than I had. Now I just needed to figure out how to pay for it.
If I was the old me, I would’ve tried to set up a fight to earn some quick cash. Sometimes I could make $500 in one night. But that wasn’t an option now.
Inwardly groaning, I tried to mentally calculate how much further that would put me in the hole. Since my credit card was maxed-out, my only choice was to ask my dad for money. Just one more thing added to the list of all the ways I inconvenienced my parents.
“Okay,” I said, grabbing my phone. “I’ll need a few minutes to make a call.”
“Take your time,” he replied, lowering his head to sift through some paperwork.
Behind him there was a ‘Help Wanted’ sign dangling on a rusty nail. It was crooked, faded, and had obviously been collecting dust for a while.
“You hiring?” I pointed at the sign.
He glanced over his shoulder like he’d forgotten it was there.
“We are,” he confirmed. “You looking for a job?”
I scratched at my jaw as I considered it.
“Well, I hadn’t planned on it since I didn’t think there was much work in this town. Plus, I’m only here for a couple months.” I looked down at my phone. Dad’s number was pulled up and my thumb hovered over the call button. “But I’m gonna need a way to pay for the work you’ve done.”
Looking thoughtful, Hank nodded slowly. “I might be willing to take on a temporary worker. Colton’s got a fiancée and their little girl to look after. Travis is getting married next month. With the transport company, we’re doing a lot of juggling around here. My boys got a lot going on this summer, so having an extra pair of hands might be a good idea.”
“Listen, I want to be honest with you,” I started, wanting to lay it all out there. “I don’t have a ton of work experience, and I bombed pretty hard at school. I don’t know a lot about mechanics, but I’d be willing to try. So, I’m interested if you’re willing to take a chance on me.”
Hank’s face softened. “I’ve never even stepped foot on some fancy college campus, so you’re already a step ahead of me.”
“Jimmy!” a voice bellowed from somewhere in the garage, and I turned to see Hank’s son walking toward me in his grease-stained coveralls. I thought my dad and I looked alike, but that was nothing compared to the striking resemblance between the father and son standing side by side. Same height, same broad-shouldered build, same buzzed haircut.
“Colton, right?” I greeted as I shook his hand.
“That’s right. I was the one wearing the crazy Rudolf sweater at Beverly’s last year.”
My recollections of Christmas were a little hazy from all the whiskey I’d confiscated from Grandma’s liquor cabinet, but I remembered a few crazy sweaters that day.
“Good to see you again,” I told him with a smile.
“Dude, I found a nut sac in your glove compartment yesterday.” He laughed. “Gotta say, that’s a first for me on the job, and I’ve been doing this a long time.”
I snickered. “Mackenna made me put those in there. Guess she didn’t like the way they looked on my bumper.”
“Oh shit, your girlfriend literally made you put your balls away?” Grinning, he slapped me on the shoulder. “That’s classic. And Mackenna Connelly is a ball-buster for sure. Heard she moved back to the area recently.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I told him, wishing it wasn’t the truth. “She’s my grandma’s neighbor.”
“She’s a cool girl.” Backing away, Colton wiped his hands off on a dirty rag. “I gotta get back to it, but maybe I’ll see you around?”
“Well, that’s likely,” Hank interjected. “Because I just hired him.”
My head whipped toward him, and a big smile spread over my face.
“Awesome,” Colton said. “It’s about time we got more help around here. Old man runs this place with an iron fist.”
Hank guffawed before playfully putting his son in a headlock. Laughing, Colton broke free and threw the greasy rag at Hank’s face. It was obvious that they had a great relationship, and it made me hope I hadn’t messed things up too bad with my own dad.
Hank tossed me my keys. “No payment today. Can you be here tomorrow morning around 9:00?”
“You’re gonna let me take my car without paying?” I asked, confused.
“Yep. I trust you,” he said before turning to walk away, then called over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow!”
That feeling of hope exploded inside me again, because this was another chance to prove that I wasn’t a complete screw-up.
When I got home, Grandma was on the phone—her landline telephone—and she looked distressed as she hung up. I closed the front door behind me, and she slumped down onto her couch with a huff.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting next to her.
“That was the mayor of Tolson. He said I can’t have my house this color.” Pouting, she threw her hands up. “Apparently, there are village codes or something. Fuck the codes!”
I frowned. “What does he want you to do? Change it?”
“Yes. He said some of the townspeople even offered to chip in to pay for it.” Wringing her hands, she sighed. “Is it really that bad?”
Barking out a laugh, I hugged her to me and decided to be honest. “Yeah, Grandma. It really is that bad. But, hey, guess what?”
“What?”
“I got a job at Hank’s Auto Shop,” I said, pulling back.
Her face lit up. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”
“You don’t mind?” I asked. “It’ll mean I’m not here as much. I won’t take it if you don’t want me to.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I think that’s great. I do have a life, you know. Plus, those boys will keep you in line.”
I grinned. “I have a feeling you’re right about that. I start tomorrow morning.”
“Can you do something for me today?”
“Anything,” I replied.
“Go to Home Depot and pick out a new color? Something boring.” She made a face.
I drew her in for one more hug. “I’ll pick the best color they have.”
“I guess this means you and Mackenna will be back at it then,” she said with a shrug.
Excitement caused my heart to speed up. This new development could bode well for me, because I’d have at least two more days with the moody girl next door.
One trip to Home Depot later, I parked my station wagon on the street in front of Grandma’s house and enjoyed the A/C for a couple minutes, marveling at how it worked better than ever before.
I hoped I fit in at Hank’s, and not just because I needed the money. I’d had a job before, but this was the first time I was excited about it. Two summers in high school, I’d had the mind-numbing experience of being a grocery bagger. It was easy, but I didn’t enjoy it.
Working at an auto shop was different. Challenging.
Being a mechanic wasn’t something I’d ever considered before, but I liked the thought of fixing things and getting my hands dirty.
Speaking of fixing things and getting my hands dirty, I glanced at the green monstrosity in Grandma’s yard. Hauling the new gallons of paint into the garage, I set them next to the brushes and rollers.
The color I picked was still green, but a lot lighter. Sage, Mackenna had called it.
Then I strolled to my neighbor’s house and knocked on the front door to tell her the news. There was no noise coming from inside, but I knew she was home because her car was in the driveway.
I waited a minute, then knocked again. Maybe she was taking a nap, and I held onto the hope that she’d answer the door in her PJs again.
“Mack,” I called. “I know you’re home.”
More silence.
“I can hear you knitting in there,” I teased. “Open up. Maaaack. Mack, Mack, mo Mack, banana fana fo—”
The door swung open and my amusement immediately died. Mackenna’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She’d been crying.
“Hey,” I said softly. “I didn’t mean it. I can’t really hear you knitting.”
“What do you want, Jimmy?” She hiccupped before her chin wobbled and fresh tears filled her eyes.
Suddenly I had the overpowering urge to hold her, to comfort her somehow. Was she upset because of something I did? If so, I was going to feel like absolute shit.
“I promise not to tease you if you let me in,” I told her. “Please?”
She didn’t say anything, but responded by opening the door wider in invitation. After shutting it behind me, she flicked the deadbolt.
I followed her into the living room, which was an area of the house I hadn’t gotten a good look at yet. The walls were a warm amber, reminding me of whiskey. A fluffy cream-colored carpet ran the length of the room. Mackenna’s guitar was leaning against a worn blue armchair in the corner, and a brown leather couch completed the room, adding to the coziness.
It was clean, aside from several partially-full water bottles placed randomly throughout the room. I counted them and the total came to nine, which was excessive for one person. I was about to ask about it but then Mackenna sniffled, and my concern overrode my curiosity.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, needing to know how much groveling was in order.
“Not everything is about you,” she snapped before letting out another hiccup. Blowing her nose, she sat down on the couch, then glanced up at me. Her stormy eyes were absent of their usual hardness, and her voice got softer. “Sorry. No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I sat down next to her. “I know I can be a real ass sometimes, but I’m a good listener.”
She tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. Then I noticed a crumpled piece of paper in her right hand. Her eyes followed my line of sight, and I knew from the expression on her face that whatever was on that paper was the reason for her sadness.
Gently placing my hand on hers, I uncurled her fingers and smoothed the paper out.
Who are you spreading your legs for, you filthy cunt?
“What the hell is this?” I asked, confused.
Mackenna let out a laugh, but there was no humor behind it.
“A love letter,” she sneered. “I thought they were supposed to tell me when he got out. Aren’t they supposed to notify me or something? It was supposed to be ten years. Ten!” Her voice became borderline-frantic at the end.
Feeling the need to do something, I picked up the box of tissues from the coffee table and handed it to her.
“When who got out?” Then it clicked and I knew. “Your ex.”
Nodding, she hiccupped again, and I noticed she was shaking. She wasn’t just sad—she was terrified.
Rage unlike anything I’d ever felt filled my entire body. Even though I didn’t remember the details about what happened years ago, it didn’t take a genius to figure out it was bad. I hadn’t brought up the topic of her past since that first day because it was obviously a sore subject.
But now I wondered what the hell he did to her.
“Fuck, baby,” I muttered, pulling her onto my lap.
She stiffened but didn’t resist as I draped her legs sideways over mine. “What are you doing?”
“Hell if I know,” I replied, wrapping my arms around her. “But I can’t just do nothing when you’re shaking like this.”
Sniffling, she hesitated for a few seconds before awkwardly resting her head on my shoulder. I rubbed circles on her back and her body relaxed a fraction. It’d been a long time since I showed physical affection that wasn’t purely sexual to a girl, but comforting her just felt right.
“Why are you here?” she asked, reminding me of the reason I came over.
I got the feeling she needed to talk about something else. Luckily, I had the perfect distraction. “We have to repaint Grandma’s house. Apparently, everyone in town is upset about it. She got a call from the mayor himself.”
Mackenna lifted her head and looked at me with wide eyes. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Said he’d even pay for a new color.”
That got her to smile a little. “It is hideous.”
“A total eye-sore,” I agreed.
She squinted. “Looking at it actually hurts my eyes.”
I laughed. “Leave it to Grandma to give an entire town a headache.”
“I mean, it’s a good color for tractors. Or grass. Or leggings,” she added, wigg
ling her thighs.
It made her ass rub against me just right. Instant wood. Apparently my cock couldn’t recognize how inappropriate the timing was, and I hoped she couldn’t feel it poking her leg.
“I get the feeling you have a lot of crazy leggings.” My thumb ran back and forth over her knee, feeling the soft material covered in brightly-colored pineapple print.
Mackenna shifted, and I thought maybe she’d pull away from me.
She didn’t.
Instead, she snuggled in closer. “Patterned leggings are very popular right now. I might as well take advantage of it while it’s socially acceptable. In a few years when they’re out of style, I’ll just be the crazy-leggings lady at Walmart.”
Grinning at the mental image, I tightened my arms around her. I rested my chin on the top of her head and looked around the room.
“Are you like that girl from the movie Signs?” I wondered out loud.
“Huh?” Mackenna’s head popped up and she looked confused.
I pointed at the water bottles. “You know, how she’s picky about the water she drinks and ends up leaving cups everywhere.”
Mackenna’s eyes widened as if she was just noticing the mess. “Actually, yeah. I have a thing about water that’s been sitting out for too long.” Seeming slightly embarrassed, she gave a half-shrug. “I can drink it if it’s cold, but once it reaches room temperature it’s not good anymore.”
“That’s…different,” I said with a chuckle.
In response, another hiccup escaped and her head went back to that place on my shoulder.
“Do you want me to get you a new water?” I offered. “Might help you get rid of those hiccups.”
She shook her head. “That always happens when I cry. It’ll pass.”
“Just let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Is it okay that I’m sitting on you like this?” Her voice was quiet. Hesitant. Unsure and sweet. “It feels nice.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, Mack. It’s okay.”
Now it made sense why she was so hellbent on staying away from me. I knew what I looked like—what people saw when they looked at me. My image didn’t exactly scream squeaky-clean.
The Good Guys Box Set: TRUCKER, DANCER, DROPOUT, and A Trucker Wedding Page 56