My lips curl up at her firm, knowledgeable tone. I didn’t know that I’d be into mechanic jargon, but I find Riley’s statement about ‘power and ground’ incredibly sexy.
“Just a second, Nat. Let me go to my office. It’s noisy out here.” I hear her breathing softly and a door clicks shut. The background noise cuts in half and Riley’s tone shifts from authoritative to gentle. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I answer, my heart beating double time.
Riley waits a beat. “Why did you call?”
Right. Lunch. Date. Fancy restaurant. “Are you free for lunch? I wanted to take you somewhere.”
“Oh,” she says hesitantly.
At once, my hope of whisking her away to a fancy restaurant starts to wane. “Are you busy?”
“Carlos’s mom brought some tamales to the shop, so we planned to eat together for lunch. Like… as a team.”
“Tamales sounds good,” I say, keeping my tone buoyant while my heart sinks like the Titanic.
“You should join us.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding,” she says and then in a quieter voice, Riley admits, “I’d like it if you came.”
My heart probably thinks it’s strapped to a rollercoaster because, as quickly as it sank, it’s now rocketing up to the stars.
“Yeah, I mean… if you want me to, I’ll be there.”
“Great.”
“Boss,”someone says in the background, “I think you were right. It’s not picking up a ground.”
“I figured,” Riley mumbles.
My grin expands. “I’ll see you soon.”
When Riley hangs up, I run down to my car. Chance, Kinsey and Renthrow left the gym a long time ago. They’re putting the finishing touches on tonight’s proposal. I heard Max will be there to help too.
Since I could only get the morning off from drills, I couldn’t join them, but it works out because I get to go home early and prepare for the date.
Out of the shower, I shave my face and run a brush over my short hair.
“Would I look better with longer hair?” I murmur, frowning at my reflection in the mirror.
There’s not much I can do about that now.
In my bedroom, I sort through a couple T-shirts and jeans. I’m not meeting Riley in sweatpants, that’s for sure. After I settle on a pair of dark slacks and a white T-shirt, I drive downtown.
On the way to the garage, I drive past the florist and impulsively stop in the parking lot. Ten minutes later, I pay for a bouquet of roses and set them gingerly in the passenger seat.
My heart bucks against my ribs and I wipe my sweaty palms on my slacks as I drive to the garage. Why am I so nervous today? I don’t think I’ve been this keyed up even on a game day.
“You need some help, bro?” A heavy-set man in black overalls asks when I walk into the mechanic bay. His eyes dart to me and then the flowers.
I stuff the bouquet behind my back. “No. I mean, yes. I’m here for Riley?”
“You’re Nathan Campbell.” The other voice belongs to a scrawny boy with a curly, mop-top hairstyle and beady eyes.
“Campbell? Wait, that’s the guy with the leg? The one trying out for the Lucky Strikers?” The larger man points to me.
