“Help Tan!” she calls out like a proper damsel in distress.
Though I try to shush her, Tanner is up and motioning for the guys to follow in a heartbeat.
“Everything alright?” he asks as he approaches.
“Everything is perfectly fine,” I say tightly and look down at Winnie. “Somebodyjust doesn’t want to carry groceries up.”
“Well Fred, it’s your lucky day. We are in-between cars right now. Right guys?”
They nod their heads with guilty grins then grab the bags from our hands and the trunk. Tanner lets Winnie lead the way as she skips up ahead with the key.
The last guy that hangs back has the name patch Taylor. He has dark hair and an arm covered in tattoos. “You must be Hannah.”
“I am,” I say and shut the back hatch. “You must be Taylor. Happy birthday, by the way.”
He laughs. “Thank you. I was wondering when I was going to meet this girl Tanner is always talking about and almost missing my birthday for.”
My cheeks warm. “The girl he’s been talking about?”
“Honestly, we’ve been eating lunch out back just to see if you’re real or not. He’s only been talking about you since like a year and a half ago. We weren’t sure if you really existed or not. Hell, we didn’t believe your sister existed either. We thought these two were making y’all up.”
“Let’s get a move on,” Tanner calls from up the steps. “We got an oil change coming up!”
When I join them in the kitchen, Tanner gestures to the guys around my kitchen. “Hannah, these are some of the guys from the shop. This is Cade, Bobby, and you just met Taylor. Guys this is Hannah Dorada and her daughter Winnie.”
Winnie smiles, suddenly shy as the guys each shake her hand.
“What do you say to these nice men who carried the groceries for us?”
“Thank you,” she squeaks.
“It’s our pleasure.” Taylor smiles. “Anytime you need help just give us a call.”
He nods and they head back downstairs. This time, Tannerlingers behind while Winnie steals an apple and dashes off to her room.
“You were late to his birthday yesterday,” I accuse and he only smiles.
“I was. But it was worth it.”
“For warm beer with a view of a parking lot?”
He steps closer. “I regret leaving you at all, if I’m being perfectly honest.”
I don’t know if it’s because he’s looking at my lips, or because I can smell the grease and his cologne mixing, but I want to kiss him. I want to throw caution to the wind and let anything, but my brain, make decisions for once.
“You can’t look at me like that and expect me to follow your rule,” his voice rasps in a whisper.
“What rule?”
“The one where we have to be just friends.”
“I'm not the one who’s guilty here of making that difficult,” I remind him. “You’re the one showing up with arms and hands like yours and helping me carry groceries to show them off.”
He looks down at his hands which are massive and greased stained with calloused palms.
“Actually.” He crosses his arms, flexing his biceps in the process. “I helpedWinniecarry in groceries. You just happened to be there.”
“Oh, is that so?” I step closer, not seeming to know better.
