I was fine with country music. And dancing. I’d only wished he’d told me more details in advance. I had a pair of cowgirl boots I never wore, but couldn’t bear to get rid of.
Denver started up his Jeep and immediately hit the gas, causing me to lurch in my seat until the seatbelt threw me back. His love for his open-top Jeep was so sacred, I think he forgot other people were riding with him half the time. I’d learned from careful experience to pull my blonde hair back into a loose ponytail, hope for the best, and brush it out when we arrived at our destination.
Luckily, the weather was perfect. We were in the last few weeks of March, when Phoenix was still nice, and we could pretend the summer wouldn’t take over soon and crisp us all. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the wind rushing over my face.
Denver turned on the radio, singing along enthusiastically to a Bruno Mars song. He had a great voice and sang as if he knew it.
“Were you ever in a band?” I asked, opening my eyes.
“Oh, yeah. I was the lead singer ofYour Next Crush. We even made an album before we all went our separate ways for college. Remind me sometime and I’ll dig it out.”
Your Next Crush. It was so… Denver. I’d never known anyone as easy-going about how full of himself he was. Denver wasn’t the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but dating him was like breathing. I never had to work for it or give it much thought. It didn’t even feel like a new relationship. After knowing him a little over a month, I could pretty much predict whatever he was thinking or about to do. Even his surprises were predictable.
Maybe that made me a control-freak, but this was exactly what my life needed right now. Stability, with fun on my terms.
Denver pulled up to the restaurant, which had twinkle lights and a big rooster statue on the roof. After getting my door, Denver took my hand, swinging it back and forth as we walked up to the entrance. I could hear the band going strong before we touched the door. I don’t know that I’d categorize it as good country. Earnest, yes. Loud, yes. In key, not quite. Apparently, Denver’s cousin didn’t get his fair share of the musical talent in the family.
We found two seats at the bar, but we gave them up within seconds as Denver’s favorite song was coming on and he wanted to dance. The guy couldn’t sit still to save his life. But he also danced as well as he sang, and I couldn’t help smiling and laughing, having a great time in spite of the terrible music.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned, expecting to have to tell some random guy I was taken.
“Evan. Hi!”
My coworker was all cleaned up, with a well-fitting pair of Wranglers and a button down shirt that, for once, wasn’t covered in engine grease.
“Hey,” he shouted over the music. “You stalking me?”
“Yep, Evan. I just can’t get enough of you Monday through Friday.”
He laughed and pulled his date over so he could introduce her and I could introduce Denver. There was nothing at all wrong with the situation, except Evan would tell everyone at work I was dating someone new.
And Clay would know.
3
___________
Clay
Sun Valley Heavy Equipment Rental was as much a second home to me as the Harwoods’ house. Thanks to Parker and his dad’s freaky ability to fix just about anything, we’d made a name for ourselves not only as a rental shop, but as the place to sell off finicky equipment. Our side business of buying, trading, and selling had become more and more important as the competition from the big box stores closed in. Everyone was in the equipment rental business these days.
I don’t think there was a moment our boss, John Harwood, ever stopped worrying. It wouldn’t matter if we had a billion-dollar nest egg. The sky could fall tomorrow and it would all be gone. Day after day, he carried around the responsibility of thirty people who relied on him for their livelihoods. Oh, the joys of owning a small business.
I was inspecting a scissor lift we’d just acquired when Lauren walked in and headed to her desk in the corner to wake up her computer. My Lauren radar always seemed to sense the moment she arrived, and today was no different. Her Sun Valley polo shirt was navy blue today and she was wearing my favorite of her jeans, the ones that had lace on the back pockets.
Idiot brain. It was a good thing no one could read my mind, especially her dad.
If John had his way, his daughter’s desk wouldn’t be anywhere near the warehouse. She'd be in the front office greeting customers and manning the phone. But Lauren wouldn’t stand for it. She was as familiar with the equipment as any of us, maybe more so, because it was her job to track all of it.
Parker came to stand next to me, giving one of the back tires a nudge. “What do you think?” He ran his hands through his dark blond hair, which was several weeks past needing a haircut.
“I’ll know more after we change the batteries.” Luckily, the scissor lift took the same kind of six-volt batteries as any typical golf cart, including the two we kept on site.
“We bought it without good batteries in it? Without trying it out?” Lauren came over to have a look. “The hydraulics could be all messed up. It could fall over and kill us all.” She was slightly taller than Parker, which I knew secretly ticked him off, especially when she leaned over him during an argument like the one they were about to start.
“Good morning to you, too, Lauren.” Parker turned to his sister and puffed out his chest. He’d been the one to buy the lift, and his body language showed it was a decision he’d defend with his last breath.
He patted the machine like an old friend. “Everybody wants these, working or not. It was in a storage unit, and they were doing me a favor by calling me first.”
