Page 30 of Too Close To Call

Of course, I have to rub it in, just a tiny smidge. “Ashtrays in cars started being phased out in the 1990s. Don’t feel bad. Mechanics just kinda forget they’re there. People that didn’t smoke used them for change and sometimes that change fell underneath the removable ash box.”

With his big, beefy paws braced on his hips, Axel shakes his head and grins. “So, you know a lot about cars.”

I nod and chuckle. “I do.”

“Can you rebuild a carburetor?” Paul quizzes.

“With my eyes closed.”

“Do you know how and when to adjust timing?” Axel joins in the game.

I wave a hand in dismissal. “Piece of cake.”

Paul’s left brow shoots upward and he asks, “Can you drive?”

I scrunch my lips and admit, “Not as well as Case, but few to none can.”

That causes both men to grin and slap me on the back. I think we just bonded.

“You’ve got that damn straight.” Axel says with a wink.

* * *

A few hours later, I’m standing on the front bumper of a RAM truck, leaning over with a wrench in hand to loosen a nut. I’m startled and hit my head on the bottom of the raised hood when Case yells, “What the hell are you doing?”

From beside me, Paul says, “Ouch, that’s gotta hurt.”

“Oh, no. Somebody has their panties in a bunch,” Axel mumbles with a snigger as he helps me down from my bumper perch.

I rub the goose egg-sized bump forming on top of my head and glare up at the furious man, flanked by Axel and Paul.

Case has on a pair of jeans that hug his ass in the most delicious way. The man has always worn denim well. The dark green garage t-shirt he has on pulls against his biceps and I lick my lips to make sure drool isn’t leaking out. “I’m helping the guys. What does it look like?”

I glance over and see Daisy is still coloring and talking to her stuffed animals. I moved her table and chairs into the garage, in a safe area, where I can keep an eye on her while I work. She’s grown up like that. She knows the boundaries, just like I did.

Case eyes the two men and almost snarls. “You’re supposed to be in the office. Not getting in my guys’ way.”

That lights a fire under me. I stand to my entire five-foot, seven-inch frame and scowl at the man. “Case Murphy, you know full well I am capable of working in a garage. My dad taught us both.”

Something tells me more is going on behind the anger. The only outward sign of his annoyance is the clenching of his jaw. “You weren’t hired to work in the garage. You were hired to work in the office. Stay in the office.”

Yeah, his mood and his annoyance don’t add up. He knows my skills in the garage and he never used to have a problem with me working with the guys. A spark of hope sizzles in my heart.

Could he be jealous?

“Oh, I see. You’re drawing a line on the cement. You don’t want me on your side of the line because then you’d be faced with dealing with me. If I stay in the office, I bet you would pretend I’m not even here.”

Our eyes are locked in a standoff of angry frustration. The garage fills with awkward silence. Drills have stopped. Daisy no longer chats with her stuffies, and the conversation the other guys were having ceases.

“Hey, princess,” Paul calls out. “Axel and I need some ice cream. Want to go with us? We can never decide what flavor to get.”

“Yeah, and then maybe we’ll stop by the park and you can push me on the swing again. But not too high this time,” Axel fills in.

I glance guiltily at my daughter. I’m ashamed to admit I’d forgotten she was within earshot. “Mommy, can I go with the guys?”

I force a smile and nod. “Sure, honey.”

She runs and grabs each man’s hand and it’s the cutest thing ever to see those two burly men wrapped around my five-year old’s finger.

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