“Me too.” He nuzzles into the spot by my ear. “I spilled too many drinks because I was distracted watching you. Now I think it might be worse because I know I can kiss you whenever I want.”
“Whenever? That’s a little presumptuous of you.”
A smug grin pulls up the corners of his mouth. “Says the girl wearing my shirt.”
He has a point.
Tristen takes over the cooking duties so we can finally eat a decent meal that doesn’t taste like burnt rubber. Then I head outside to check how low our transmission fluid leaked while we waited for the rain to pass. But the surprises keep coming. The simple task of starting the engine has me banging my palm against the wheel.
No matter what I do, the engine won’t start.
Grumbling Gary’s name, I stick my head under the hood and poke around, but there doesn’t seem to be an obvious reason like before.
“What’s going on now?” Tristen asks, handing me a water bottle.
“If I knew, I’d fix it. I’m still diagnosing the issue.”
“Well, we also need to fix the leak in the bedroom before it rains again.”
“I know,” I ground out. “I’m working on one thing at a time.” I lean my elbows on the grill, doing another check to make sure I didn’t miss something. “Why don’t you go work on your book while I figure this out.”
“I can’t. Every time I try to record, you growl or talk to yourself in the background.”
“It’s my process.”
Photos buzz through on my phone. Messy areas of the auto shop where I had dug through toolboxes and the drawers of the bench to find specific toolsfor this trip.
Lewis
Care to explain? Or have I been robbed?
Right to the point, as always.
Hey, boss. How is the fishing trip?
Lewis
Oh, just dandy. I walked through a patch of poison ivy and had to come back early. I thought I’d relieve some of my frustrations in the shop, but I walked into this mess instead.
Where are you and where are my tools?
About that, I’m in New Mexico... somewhere. The motorhome broke down and now we’re stuck here until I can fix it.
We? Who is we?
What is with the interrogation from everyone?
Tristen insisted on helping.
Lewis
Him? That man can’t tell a V6 engine from a V12. You’d have more help if you brought Holt, heck, or even Nova.
I glance up to see if Tristen read the message or not. His ticking jaw tells me he did.
Be nice, Lewis. He’s helping me with the remodel.
Lewis
