“Your father and I are very happy,” she snapped, slapping her napkin down on the table. “Now, I have chores to get on with. I’m sure both of you have things to do as well.”
Somehow, my mother always had a way of chastising us even without yelling at us. I felt like a kid back in school sometimes, tryingto find a way to hide the bruises from my most recent fight so I didn’t have to hear how disappointed she was in me.
“I’ll finish this up. Get on with your day,” Ma said, her voice softening.
“Sure, Ma.”
I headed for the back door, smacking Jeff on the back of the head as I left.
“And don’t forget to call Bailey and invite her over for dinner tonight! I already arranged it with her mother!”
I had just shoved the screen door open, and it came back to smack me in the face when I paused at her words.
“Well, hell,” I muttered. “So much for going at my own pace.”
“You’re blocking the door,” Jeff said, walking up behind me. “And cheer up. We’ll all be really nice to Bailey.”
He tossed his head back and laughed as he walked away.
That jackass. “You can shoe Clover and Phoenix while you’re at it!”
The bellover the Gearhead Garage door chimed as I walked in. I didn’t particularly want to be here, not when Wyatt Callahan was the owner, but he was the only shop close by.
And Bailey was here.
He came into the office, wiping his hands on a rag as he studied me with dark eyes. I never knew what to think of Wyatt. He always looked perpetually pissed-off.
“Need something?”
“Brought the truck in.”
“Again?”
I shrugged. “It’s on the trailer.”
“Any idea what’s wrong this time?”
“I have a few ideas, but I’m not a mechanic. I’ll leave that to you.”
“I should be able to get to it later today. Drop it and leave the keys.”
I nodded, but didn’t move. I still needed to talk to Bailey.
“Is there something else you needed?”
“I need to speak to Bailey if she’s not busy.”
“Of course she’s busy.” He stalked to the garage door. “Bailey! You’ve got a customer!”
I really fucking hated Wyatt. Of course, half of that was due to the fact that his whole family was trying to ruin our family in one way or another.
“This isn’t a fucking social hour,” he reminded me just before he left, shoving past Bailey.
“Your boss is a dick,” I muttered.
Bailey glanced back at the door, then smiled at me. “He’s not that bad. What did you need?”
I did my best to ignore the way her blonde hair shimmered in the light or the tiny grease stain on her cheek. Just the sight of her in coveralls made me hard, which probably seemed odd, but I always loved how Bailey wasn’t afraid to get a little dirty.
