Page 31 of The Older Brother
It takes me a solid thirty minutes to get it locked down on the trailer, and I’ve worked up a decent sweat by the time I climb back into the cab. I’ve also built up a pretty good appetite, andthe lukewarm coffee left me feeling awfully thirsty. There’s no way I’m going back into that diner, though, so I pull away from the scene where my life experienced a major shift and slowly make my way deeper into town to the gas station where we used to load up on snacks before we went to the lake when I was a kid.
At first, the silver Toyota with the hood propped up right outside the station's front doors doesn’t strike me as strange at all. There’s a lube shop on the north side of the service station, and a lot of people end up with battery emergencies when they climb to this elevation. I’ve seen this scene dozens of times. But I’ve never been quite this lost in my thoughts, and I’m practically standing next to Saylor when I recognize her.
“Are you following me?” I’m only half joking, because what are the odds that she’s here right now? Plus, it’s been a strange morning, so I’m half expecting her to flash me her FBI badge.
She jumps at my question, though, and I feel bad when her hand flattens on her chest.
“You scared the shit out of me, but man am I glad to see you,” she says.
I nod toward the open engine bay as she twists her hair up into a tie, her neck moist with sweat. Fuck, did her AC fail? It’s not as hot up here, but it’s not exactly cool.
“I can’t get it to start,” she sighs.
“Let me take a look.” I lean over the engine and feel around for a few obvious solutions, but nothing seems disconnected, and everything feels dry. The compressor I installed looks fine, too.
“Give it a crank for me,” I direct her. She skips to the driver’s side and gets in. A few seconds later, there’s a lot of clicking, but nothing more.
It’s her alternator, which is not something I can pick up here and snap in to send her on her way.
“Well? What’s the diagnosis?” She rests her palms on the side of the engine bay and blows up at the few loose hairs trying to stick to her forehead. She’s wearing a university T-shirt and tight little shorts that hug her ass. My guess is she was up here for a visit since she’ll be coming here in the fall.
“Looks like you’re riding home with me. Good thing I brought the big trailer.” I hold out my hand for her keys, and she hands them over with a groan before folding her hands along her forehead.
“Geeze, my company that bad?” I tease. I know for a fact it’s not. And I’m not that disappointed to be riding home with her next to me for the next two hours. I’m not looking forward to my brother’s reaction, but given the shit day I’ve had, this seems like the universe making good on a few things.
“Can we make a stop first? And, like, soon?” she asks.
I stop before getting into her car and meet her gaze across the roof.
“I have a meeting with a dean, and I need to see my coach. It shouldn’t be more than an hour or two tops. And you’d be saving me.”
Two tops means three tops. I know how those estimates work, and I’ve known Saylor long enough to know that she’s not quick about anything. Not wanting to make her feel bad by blatantly pulling my phone out to check the time, I mentally run through the math and figure it’s about one in the afternoon. With any luck, we’ll be hitting the road by three, but more likely four, which lands us coming into town in the thick of rush hour.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I say, deciding to take a little more from the universe than I deserve. Fuck it, though—I deserve a whole hell of a lot after today.
“What kind of deal?” Her eyes narrow with suspicion, so I let my smirk grow.
“We hit the road in the morning,” I say, tilting my head to the right, toward the Timber Lodge Resort, which, if memory serves me correctly, is a lot more lodge than resort in room amenities.
She sucks in a long breath and holds her gaze on the lodge’s sign as she hums, “Uhm.”
“I could really use a shower, so I’ll check in after I drop you off. Plus, it’s fish fry Thursday, and I mean . . .” I hold up my palms, and her mouth inches slowly into a grin. Soon, she’s laughing and nodding.
“Fine, we can stay. I mean, who can turn down a fish fry in the middle of the desert, right?” We both laugh at what is sure to be the worst fish fry ever fried.
I send Saylor into the store with my debit card to grab me a few snacks and drinks while I load her car up on the back of the trailer. She skips out, and I take the drinks from her before she pulls herself up into the truck. The coconut scent of her lotion or shampoo mixes with the engine oil coming from my arms and hands. I can’t help but feel like I’m sullying her simply by sitting this close to her right now, but then my mind drifts to taking a shower with her and ruining her in a whole different way. By the time I pull into the main campus lot, my cock is so hard that it’s threatening to bust the zipper on my jeans. I’m going to need a cold shower when I check in, if I can make it that far. Thankfully, a text from my brother interrupts my imagination by the time I return to the lodge parking lot.
CALEB: Dad wants to know if you’ll be joining us for drinks at the Guild House tomorrow.
I smirk to myself and cradle my phone in my lap as I type.
ME: If I get back in time. In Flagstaff for the night.
I had a hunch he would know Saylor was up here for school. He still keeps tabs on her, and he talks to Allison throughout the day at the office. My suspicion is confirmed in seconds.
CALEB: Is Saylor with you?
I chuckle as I push my phone into my back pocket without responding, then lock up the truck before heading into the lobby to reserve a king room with an extra-large shower.
