“Your oil is dry, which is why it was smoking.”
“I got the oil changed this morning!”
“They didn’t screw the drain plug tight enough. It was pouring onto the ground. Where’d you get it serviced?”
Jules started laughing with the little girl and the baby giggled. Sounded like music. Took all my resolve not to throw a lawn chair out on the grass to sit and watch them play.
“Jiffy Lube.”
“I should have about a quart and a half of full synthetic 10-W-30 in my backseat. I’ll add what I have so you can get there. But go straight there.”
She nodded. “Okay. My dad can help once he gets off work.”
“Good. I got the plug on as tight as I can without a ratchet, but you guys can go back to Jiffy Lube and tell them to make sure everything is snug in there and top you off.”
“Yes, sir.”
I walked to the truck and pulled the handle with my pinky, which wasn’t as nasty as the other fingers. It was locked of course. I wracked my brain. Where were my keys?
In my pocket. Of course.
I hadn’t left the apartment this morning in work clothes. My khaki shorts would be totally ruined if I reached into my pocket. But, it had to be done.
“Hey,” Jules said as she walked over. Her cheeks were a touch flushed from the heat. “Are we locked out?”
“No.” I lifted my hands to show her the problem. “Having trouble getting to my keys.”
Her brow furrowed. “Oh no! Where are they?”
My heart started racing as I remembered how I had tucked her pocket back in not even an hour ago. I knew what she would do if I told her where the keys were. The turned tables caused my breathing to shallow.
“Ah—they’re in my pocket.”
“Which one?”
“Left front.”
She didn’t skip a beat. Didn’t even allow me a second to fret about it. She reached in and pulled them out like it was no big deal. She punched unlock on the remote and opened the door.
I tried to catch my breath. In my mind, having Jules close to me was a big deal. Every single time. As she fished in the backseat for the needed items, I had a realization.
I don’t know if I can stay casual.
I wanted to honor that wish, but what I really wanted was to throw casual out the window, prop her against the side of my truck, and kiss her until she forgot how to breathe. We had agreed personal reasons were what would hold us back from something more. But I wanted to be there for her, and she’d done nothing but be there for me. The past three weeks had proved we were good together. Whatever we were personally facing, we should face as a team.
We make a good team, don’t we?
My chest tightened as I toyed with the idea of risking it all. Telling her everything and crossing my fingers she’d still take me. The thought of laying out the truth surged a current of fear and hope through my body.
She had brought her knee to the floorboard of the backseat as she rifled through the mess. The backseat had become a catch-all. “I’m looking for something you can wipe your hands on.”
“The blanket maybe?”
“Yeah.” She straightened and put both feet back on the ground, blanket in hand. “I think that’s the only option.”
“It’s okay. I can wash it.” She handed it to me, and I went to work wiping the oil and black smudges. She brushed the bits of asphalt off the front of my shirt and shoulder. She was so close. The temptation to wrap her in my arms coursed through my veins.
Dark wisps of hair stuck to her forehead as the sweltering heat brought moisture to her face. There was a single dark freckle to the left of her eyebrow, right on her temple. The absurd notion to kiss that lonely freckle caused heat to churn in my gut.
