“I’ll be around all day today, if you can swing it, if not, I’ll try and catch up with you tomorrow.” The last thing I want to do is delay the process of him working on my car, and it isn’t because I need it back.
“No, no. Let me put a few things away, then I’ll head your way. I can probably be there in around thirty minutes.” I look down at what I’m wearing, cringing because I’m in a pair of Rafe’s old sweatpants, big and loose, with a hole around the waistband. I’m going to have to pilfer another pair when he’s not looking the next time he’s home. I’m also wearing one of his shirts. My big brother laughs at my craziness, but he has the softest clothes. Plus, I did the same thing in my high school and college years. I’d snag a flannel shirt of his nearly daily. I liked staying covered up. Rafe had no qualms about that, saying it was better for everyone involved, including the male variety.
“Take your time. I’ll be here.” I hear a little girl in the background call out daddy. “See you soon, Sable.” It’s not in the I’ve got to get off the phone way to hide what I’m sure is his child. It’s in a low tone, one that might be deceiving my ears into thinking there’s way more to the conversation.
“Yeah, see you.” I barely gather my thoughts to form a coherent sentence, so consumed in how he says my name that I may have to make a pit stop in the shower to cool down the heat flowing through my body.
9
Colt
“Is that her?” Nellie asks, looking up from her lunch at the table. We decided to order food from the diner, eat down in the shop, and keep working on Sable’s car and the project car I’ve had for far too long. Clearly, I’ve got no intention of fixing it up and selling it for a profit.
“That’s her.” Sable struts across the parking lot, this time wearing more clothes than last night yet still looking every bit the bombshell woman she is. Her hair is up in a stylish bun, some hair falling loosely here and there, and a megawatt smile crosses her face the minute she sees Nellie and me. Her tight long-sleeve shirt amplifies her lush curves, full tits, slim waist, and flared hips that sway with each step she takes, and the shoes on her feet are none other than a pair of black Converse.
“She’s really, really pretty,” Nellie states what I already know. Part of the reason I was a raging asshole last night was due to the fact that she damn near knocked my dick in the dirt. I’ve dissected the conversation, thought it through, and while yesterday was a tough one, nothing made sense when it came to Sable.
Which is probably why I texted her last night and this morning, then came up with a lie that made Nellie raise her eyebrows near her hairline, covering her mouth to cover her laughter and trying to keep from spilling the beans. The lieisn’t that elaborate. We do have some customers who require a mandatory deposit as well as signing on the dotted line for the estimate, so at least if they back out, we’re not stuck with time wasted.
“Yeah.” I grab a rag, wiping my hands to rid them of the grease from pulling out the brake lines on the Camaro.
“Aunt Kara is going to have a lot to say about this,” Nellie says in a sing-song voice. Man, maybe I should rethink her spending so much time around us adults. My daughter can talk and hold a conversation without missing a beat, a fact I’m coming to terms with a lot recently.
“And what’s it going to take to keep this between you and me?” I’ve got maybe thirty seconds before Sable is in hearing distance.
“A trip to the stationery store.” Totally doable, it’s part of our routine in some shape or form near the holidays, and Valentine’s Day is fast approaching. “Let’s say once a month for three months.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“I wasn’t done. Dinner and ice cream out, too.” There’s hopefulness in her voice. We don’t eat out on the regular, maybe twice a month unless a day like today appears, and I’ve yet to grocery shop.
I ponder for a moment, making Nellie wait, and at the last minute, right as Sable appears at the door to the garage bay, I say, “You’ve got a deal.”
“I knew I would.” She shrugs her shoulders, moves her food away from her work, and goes back to cutting out pieces from a magazine to glue onto cardstock.
“Hey, sorry it took me a bit longer to get here.” Sable greets me first, eyes locked on mine for a moment before she sees Nellie. “I can come back another time.” She takes my hesitation for intrusion.
“I’m Nellie. Daddy and I did a test on your car.” My girl clears the air, getting the formal greetings out of the way in the form of putting her own spin on things.
“I’m Sable, and I’m so grateful for the help. I bet you did most of the work, didn’t you?” Nellie nods, hops down from the table, and edges closer to the newcomer. Following a seemingly gravitational pull that clearly isn’t a party of one, Nellie must feel it too.
“He let me do the pump part, then it made a big mess, and this colorful stuff got on Daddy. It was funny.” Sable drops to a squatting position, getting on Nellie’s level. A lot of people who aren’t around kids much usually aren’t apt to get low like Sable is doing.
“It looks like you two cleaned up at least. I won’t keep you guys too long.” She sends a wink Nellie’s way, causing her to attempt to do the same. Her whole head bobs, and her mouth opens, showing off her missing front tooth, and still, she doesn’t get it. Neither of us says a word.
“I’m going back to my book scrapping.” Nellie is already out of her coveralls, and her hands are washed. She’s done with getting dirty for the time being. That is, until I start working on the next project. The Camaro has too many problems for her to be involved with right now. You think you’re fixing one problem, only for the next one to pop up.
“It was nice meeting you, Nellie.” Sable gives her a slight wave as she stands.
“You too,” she replies.
“Nell, we’ll be in the office. You need anything, come on in, alright?” I’m given a thumbs-up in response. Sable lets out a light laugh. I shake my head, a smile pulling at my face at my daughter’s antics.
Sable and I walk toward the small area we keep as a sort of business front, where customers can sit, have a cup of coffee,and watch television while we work on their car. There’s a reception area, but it hardly ever gets used besides when Nora comes in a few times a week.
My hand slides to her lower back, thankful that I took the time to clean myself up a hell of a lot better than I usually would, and I can feel her sink into my touch.
“I’m sorry if my car is eating into your time with your daughter,” she says as we enter the room. I go around to grab the paper. I’m not charging her some fuck-ass deposit, either, more or less having her sign off on what we found and what we’ll be repairing.
