Page 25 of Summer Ever After
Teaching your love interest something is a total romance micro-trope. I had imagined something along the lines of a man teaching me how to swing a baseball bat with his strong arms around me, but I can do this trope in reverse. Dax can sit behind me on a Harley and wrap his arms around my waist. It’s all the same.
I just need to buy a motorcycle first and learn to ride it. Minor details.
His annoyed glare deepens. I didn’t even know that was possible. There’s no relief until he looks at the toolboxagain. “Where’s my socket wrench?” he mumbles distractedly.
I bend down, digging through the box too. “See, it wasn’t my fault I couldn’t find it.”
Dax flips his eyes to me, wearing a pained expression. “Jane, can I just look for it myself?”
“Yeah, of course.” I hold my palms up. “These are your tools, and I don’t even know what a sock wrench is.” I inwardly cringe at my pretend stupidity—I don’t like this micro-trope.
He glances at me, blinking a few times. I have the feeling he knows I’m just acting dumb, but he doesn’t correct me, as if he doesn’t care enough to keep the charade going. Instead, he looks back down, sifting through the tools.
I think it’s time to abort. It’s clear Dax isn’t interested in this whole bad-girl thing. And truthfully, it’s not really me. I told myself last night I wasn’t going to do anything else ridiculous, and here I am, asking about tattoos and pretending not to know what a socket wrench is.
I’m Jane.
I wear bright floral-print skirts and eat snow cones. I like smiling and riding bikes with baskets. I’m not Dax Miller’s dream girl.
I move to stand, but the chain hanging off my belt loop catches something, and one side of the toolbox lifts with me as I try to straighten. Dax falls onto his butt as tools begin to spill out. I’m hunched over, a slave to the heavy steel box dragging my shorts down. It’s surprising it didn’t break my belt loop—seriously, it could be a marketing slogan for this brand of shorts:Toughest belt loops ever sewn. Even a fifty-pound toolbox can’t break these stitches!
“I’m stuck!” I wiggle my body, scooting the corner of the box back and forth as more tools dump all over. My braincan’t figure out how to solve the situation besides just shaking my hips Shakira style.
“Jane, stop moving!” Dax puts his palm up in front of me. “Let me help you.”
He kneels in front of me, trying to unhook the chain.
“I can’t get it. You need to bend down more to release some of the tension in the chain.”
I bend forward like my hips are hinges. The action puts us close together. My head hovers next to Dax’s as I try to give him enough slack in the chain to free me.
“Well, what do we have here?”
I freeze, knowing that voice all too well and how it makes my heart jump, skip, and leap like a preschooler.
My gaze drifts to the side, and just like I knew he would be, Walker stands a few feet away. A plain t-shirt and shorts never looked so good on a man.
“Hi, Jane.” His lips curl into a smile as he glances over me and Dax. There’s too much humor in his expression for himnotto be teasing me. “What are you guys doing?” He tilts his head as he tries to figure out what’s going on.
The lifted corner of the toolbox drops to the ground with a loud bang.
“Jane is just…” The words fall dead on Dax’s lips as he stands and backs away from me.
“I was stuck.” Seeing the amusement in Walker’s eyes grow, I decide to add more context. “I mean, I was helping Dax with his tools, and then I got stuck.”
“Helping is a generous term,” Dax says under his breath but loud enough for us all to hear.
Walker’s grin widens. “You’re the last person I’d expect to see at Dax Miller’s shop.”
My eyes narrow. “I could say the same about you. Why are you here?”
“Obviously, I was visiting my grandma.” He says it like visiting Deedee was his idea. “And I came over here because I need to pick up Stan’s boat from Dax.”
Dax gives the first smile I’ve seen from him in the twenty minutes I’ve been here. He extends his arm to Walker as if they’ve been pals for the last decade, which seems unlikely. “It’s good to see you, man. It’s been a long time.”
They shake hands, completely ignoring me.
“Yeah, it has.” Walker nods to the shop behind us. “My mom says you own this place now.”
