Page 24 of Change of Plans

“He nuts…and bolts.”

Ryker burst out laughing. “That’s so wrong.”

“Instead of dad jokes, my father was full of these rude, car-related one-liners.” Bryce rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t let up until he made everyone laugh. I wish Mom was in better health, because they’d be here in a heartbeat. They came up for the funeral…but I don’t think they’ll make the trip again. Mom has early-onset dementia and Dad is managing her medical issues. Losing Bentley hit them hard…”

Bryce trailed off, and Ryker felt the unmistakable tug of another who was desperately trying to overcome loss—a feeling he knew well. He sifted through replies in his head, like rummaging through a junk drawer, coming up with only a few, oddly fitted sentences.

“Although my ears aren’t pretty, they work. I’m here if you need to talk.” He winced inwardly at how awkward he sounded. He really needed to get out more. Suddenly, a phrase his therapist used popped into his head, and he lobbed it out there. “It’s a judgment-free zone.”

Bryce’s easy grin slipped a little, showing the vulnerability under her armor. “I—I could use a little of that zone in my life.”

Then, to his surprise, she lifted herself up on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Her lips were warm and impossibly soft, and he was self-conscious of how bristly his own unshaven face must be against her mouth. Unsure what to do, he stood stock-still. The lemony herbal scent of her rose to his nose and as he breathed her in, something inside him loosened, as though her gesture had unclenched a muscle he hadn’t realized was tense. And while he wasn’t a cheek-kiss expert, he thought hers lasted maybe two beats longer than a “you’re a great new pal” gesture.

Had it even ventured into “hmmm, could we be a thing” territory? He was so out of practice he didn’t know.

She was the first to pull away, and he noted her face was flushed. Was that a good thing? Or a bad thing? Damn, he had no idea.

Her voice was low and almost timid when she spoke next. “Thank you, Ryker. For everything, but especially taking your evening to help me with the car while also entertaining my nieces. We should—we should get out of your hair. Come on, girls!” Bryce pivoted away, and in no time had rounded up the stray crayons, stacked the unused cardboard boxes into the corner of the garage, and had the girls corralled by the BMW ready to go. “Girls, say thank you for—”

Ryker snapped his fingers. He’d almost forgotten.

“No thanks needed. Hold on, I’ve got something for Cecily.” He rushed into the garage’s apartment, coming back with an extra bar of Lava soap.

“What is it?” Cecily’s face was a mixture of excitement and confusion as he handed the red package over to her.

“Soap. Specially designed for people like mechanics and plumbers. People who aren’t afraid of dirt or of getting dirty.” He nodded to her as she looked at him, wary. “But I’ll warn you—the soap is made from pumice. That’s rocks that were thrown up by volcanoes, so you have to use it with caution or it’ll rub the skin right off you.”

Cecily gasped. “This is…volcano vomit soap?”

“Let me see!” Addison jumped, wings flapping, as her sister held the Lava soap box above her head, retreating to their aunt’s car.

“Cici, what do you say?” Bryce called, hands on her hips.

“I’m going to use it tonight!” Cecily called, before squabbling with Addison and piling into the back of the BMW.

“What she meant to say was thank you.” Bryce squeezed his arm, smiling as she picked up one last crayon from the floor, stuffing it haphazardly into the pack. Then, as an angry shriek came from the BMW, she thrust the rest of the crayons at him, wincing. “I’ve got to go before they kill each other. Thanks for helping with my car—I can’t believe it was something so stupid as loose lug nuts. You saved me a bunch of money, and I’d like to return the favor. Maybe another dinner? Just us adults this time?”

He blinked. This sounded suspiciously like a date. Was it? He cleared his throat, forcing his lips into an expression he hoped didn’t look as gobsmacked as he felt. The engine responsible for the conversational centers of his brain ran hot as he pushed it to the limit to find something funny to say. “Name the day, and we’re there. Me and Lady-Glitter-Sparkle, that is.”

She looked over her shoulder at her nieces, safely enclosed in the car before whispering, “I don’t do threesomes, but for this I’ll make an exception.”

He barked a laugh and shook his head. She was always going to win in the dirty joke competition. Damn if that wasn’t his kind of sexy.

Giving him a final wink, as if she’d read his thoughts, she got into her car and reversed out of his garage. Addison and Cecily popped their heads up to peer out the rear window, waving manically until their aunt pulled away.

He chuckled, waving until they’d disappeared down the block.

He touched his face after the garage door clanged shut. His cheeks were sore—from smiling. A first. And he’d laughed tonight. Truly laughed. And flirted—something he hadn’t done in…he didn’t know how long.

Smiles, laughter, flirting, cheek kisses…

What the hell was happening?

He looked at the cardboard stacked in the corner. The girls had managed to tape together four or five boxes in what might be construed as a ship. If you were drunk and you squinted at it.

Snorting, he stowed the crayons in the corner of his toolbox and closed the lid. He crossed to the bank of light switches, intending to flip everything off and go inside the teeny garage apartment to take off his prosthetic, shower, then lie in bed and watch ESPN until the sports banter put him to sleep.

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