A couple kids on bikes churned past, none of them old enough to be teens, and none of them worried about rambling around town on their own.
Sunshine made quick work of backing the old truck into the garage space then glanced over at Lu. “We can take care of the paperwork inside. You’re welcome to stay or maybe get a cup of coffee or lunch—we have a good diner just down around the block a bit. I’ll give you a call with a quote before we start in on repairs. How’s that sound?”
“Like we aren’t getting out of Illinois tonight,” I said from where I’d crammed myself behind the seats, my shoulders tipped at an angle that stuck them square in the middle of the seat ahead of me, but kept them out of actually pressing into Lu.
Walking through a living person was hard. Pressing into Lu was an ache I’d only tried once.
It’d left us both so shaken and wanting, I’d vowed I’d never do it again. Ghost possession was not an easy ride.
Lou reached for the door handle. “Any rooms open around here?”
I raised my eyebrows. Lu didn’t sleep much. But when she did it was always under the stars, or better yet, in a graveyard where we had a better chance of really being together. Of hearing each other.
Hotels were a mess of old pain, ghosts, monsters, and less desirable things.
It wasn’t just humans who lived in these parts, after all.
“We’ve got the Super 8 just outside of town. Water’s hot. Clean sheets.” He dropped out of the truck, following her and Lorde. I exhaled and drifted through the cab of the truck, then out through the door.
I stomped my feet to get some feeling back into them. It was a true injustice that even as an almost dead-guy, cramped quarters still made my feet tingly.
“Something quieter?” Lu asked.
Sunshine hummed, thinking about it. He quickly stepped in front of her and opened the door to the building before she got there.
“I’d offer you my shop WiFi to do a little searching, but my wireless is out. The crap wireless company hasn’t sent me another crap repair guy since the last crap repair guy was here twiddling his crap thumbs.”
Lu listened to him—Lu always listened. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was taking the measure of the woman who stood just inside the open door.
The woman had golden brown skin and glossy black hair that was tight-shaved on one side of her head but long on the other. Tiny gold rings sparkled in her dark eyebrow, ears, and nose, and her brown eyes were lined with black pencil that did that little wing thing at each corner.
More jewelry—silver, hemp, bead, leather—wrapped the wrist that was resting on a messenger bag slung over her shoulder. Shirt was white and pants were black, and that messenger bag had a logo on it that said:Quality Cable and Computer Repair.
“Oh, Sunshine. You are so screwed.” I laughed and rubbed my hands together. This was gonna be good.
Sunshine followed Lu’s gaze and noticed the woman standing in the shop. “Can I help you?”
“Sure,” she said. “I’m your crap repair guy here to do crap nothing while I twiddle these crappers.” She held up her thumbs and delivered a glare that looked like it was gonna be followed by a kick in the nads.
Sunshine made a weird croaking sound, cleared his throat, and coughed.
She just kept right on glaring.
He went beet red and wrapped one hand around the back of his neck. “I…uh. Okay. I’ll show you to the…uh…wireless. Junction. Router. And the computer that’s not working.” He gestured for Lu to precede him into the building.
Lu looked at Sunshine, looked at Quality, and then she got this gleam in her eyes.
“No,” I said. “No, nope, no. You are not going to hook this joker up with the brainy computer gal.”
Lu rubbed her thumb along the side of her pointer finger like she was consulting an oracle stone.
“Do not play Cupid. Lu. You have no right to meddle in people’s lives. Just move on. Get the truck fixed. I don’t think Sunshine over here is good enough for Quality, no matter how many dimples he has.”
“Lu,” she said, sticking her hand out toward the woman and stepping into the building.
The room was too small to be a lobby, but obviously served as one. Repair bays were beyond the door marked as such to the left, a hallway stretched straight ahead, and it looked like an office was about mid-way on the right.
“Jo,” Quality replied, shaking firmly.
