Quarter Mile Hearts(72)

“Language.” His booming voice echoes around the garage, and I catch Max and Aaron dip their heads to hide their laughter. I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation before climbing back into the car.

Once the seats are out and packed away, the bolts all stored securely, we start to make a list of everything we still need to do.

“You want some lunch?” Aaron asks, and I roll out from under the car.

“Yeah, sandwich and a soda.” Max seconds that and Aaron shouts to Dad.

“What about you, Uncle Hank?”

“Nah, I’m good. Maria’s coming to pick me up.”

“Maria?” I push myself up to standing and select a wrench from the toolbox next to me.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Nurse McCartney to you,” he says with a wink. The three of us raise our eyebrows and exchange a look as he struggles to his feet. At that moment, Nurse McCartney, as she will always be known, pulls into the lot in a black BMW, and Dad waves at her.

“Don’t wait up.” He smiles at us before striding out to meet her. The three of us watch, jaws hanging open, as he climbs in her car and she pulls out of the lot. Still surprised at the turn of events, we get back to work, none of us sure what to make of it. But, I figure, why shouldn’t he be happy.

Beth shows up late afternoon to see if Aaron is finished for the day, and he shoots me a hopeful look.

I smile. “Of course, you go. We’ll work on it.”

“I can stay if you want,” he offers, but there’s no point in us all being here.

“No, you’ve been here for hours.”

“We’re telling my parents and Granny Betty about the baby tonight. It’s earlier than we wanted, but they’re getting suspicious.” He shifts nervously.

“Ah.” I nod, understanding his nervousness. “Good luck.” I give Beth a reassuring hug, and Max pats Aaron on the shoulder. “It will all work out.”

Aaron puts his arm around Beth’s shoulder and leads her out of the garage. She leans against him, and I can’t get over how tired she looks. She’s certainly not showing yet, but her morning sickness is taking its toll. Max comes up behind me as I watch them and kisses my temple.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, let's get this done.” We continue working until Max’s stomach growls loudly.

“Time to call it a day?” I ask and throw down my spanner, reaching for the rag to wipe my hands.

“I’ll go out and get us something to eat and bring it back here. Unless you want to go home?”

“And run into Dad and Nurse McCartney? No thanks.” Max chuckles at my sour expression and kisses me on the forehead before he leaves to get food.

The radio still plays in the background, and I hum along quietly as I tidy away the tools that we’ve been using. I’m notorious for leaving them laying around on the floor so they are always in easy reach, and it drives the guys mad. Either that or I have them sticking out of my back pocket. I grab the cover that’s lying on the floor and drape it over the car. My back is to the doorway, and I don’t hear the quiet footsteps on the concrete floor until my scalp prickles and I turn.

Zach Anderson stands before me, arms crossed over his chest and a sneer on his face, which I’m beginning to think is permanently etched there. Beady eyes slide down my body, and I hug myself, rubbing my arms against the sudden chill.

“What do you want, Zach.” I sigh because I’m tired and hungry and really not in the mood for any of his bullshit.

“Just checking on progress.” He looks around the garage, as if mentally picturing what it will be like when he owns it.

“Where’s your bodyguard.” He must mean Max.

“Getting us dinner.”

His smile widens as he realizes I’m not alone. “How romantic, dinner here.”

“Cut to the chase, Zach. What the fuck do you want?”

“You know…” He moves closer, but I stand my ground, not wanting him to see how freaked out I’m getting. “It doesn’t have to be this way.” A few more steps and he’s standing within touching distance of the Camaro that’s hidden under the cover. It’s as if he knows that the car I’m racing is underneath. “We could have come to some other arrangement.” He reaches out to touch the hood of the car, and he is now too close for my liking. Panic starts to build in the pit of my stomach, and no matter how much I tell myself to stay calm, it isn’t working. Max, where are you? He won’t be long; he can’t have gone far.

“And I told you, I’m not interested.” I slam my hand down on the side of the car to stop him lifting up the cover.