Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,56

right, but it doesn’t ride real smooth. Anyway, you got time?”

Cal wished he had time to work on it right now. “Can you give me a week or two? Asher’s with me now, so that’s keeping me kind of busy. Are you in a hurry?”

Gabe waved his hand. “Nah, man, that’s cool. Whenever. Just let me know, and I’ll bring it over.”

“Wish I could work on it here in the shop, but . . . ” He gestured toward Jack.

Gabe grimaced. “There’s no one in town that I trust other than you, so it sucks like hell that Jack won’t think about expanding.”

Cal shrugged. “I’m working on it. Anyway, I’ll let you know.”

Julian and Asher walked out of the back room, closer together this time, shoulders brushing.

Asher’s cell phone was in his hand, and he slipped it back into his pants.

“So it’s cool if I bring Julian around?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah, no problem,” Cal said. “We can always use some help.”

When Gabe and Julian left a half hour later, Cal caught Asher peering around the opening of the garage, watching their truck drive away.

Chapter Eighteen

JENNA GLANCED AT the container on the passenger seat of her car and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

She’d put this off all week, but it was Saturday; no more excuses. She’d promised Asher granola bars, and so she must deliver granola bars. He’d called her earlier in the week to chat, and she said she’d swing by over the weekend.

How was it possible to both dread and crave something at the same time? She didn’t know, but it certainly was possible, because there was no other way to describe the churning of her gut, sweaty palms, and lightheadedness at the thought of seeing Cal again.

During the workday this past week, she’d been okay because her brain was busy. But once she got home, all bets were off. She wondered what Cal and Asher were eating for dinner; she wondered how they were getting along. This was territory Cal had been avoiding; it was the reason they didn’t have a future. Yet he’d taken the kid in despite his vow of solitude.

When Jenna lay alone in bed, she remembered the heat of Cal’s body, the rasp of his callused palms on her skin, the sound of his whispered Sunshine in her ear. It’d been one freaking night, and he’d ruined her. Oh hell, who was she kidding? He’d ruined her long ago. She’d never been fixed.

She pulled into Cal’s driveway, and with one look at what was going on in said driveway, she almost turned back around.

Cal must have heard her car coming, because he stood with one arm braced on the side of his parked truck, the other on his hip. He wore a pair of jeans and boots, and that was it. That was freaking it. Sweat glistened on his bare chest, his jaw covered in a five-o’clock shadow, his posture relaxed. Jenna was about two seconds away from throwing her car in reverse and peeling rubber to get as far away from the six feet of male temptation as she could.

Cal had never been vain. He wore his hair short so he didn’t have to mess with it. If he had stubble, it was because he didn’t feel like shaving. And his muscles were from labor. He wore it all with an unassuming confidence that was ridiculously sexy.

The damn man.

If the single ladies in town knew he was out here in the middle of nowhere, working on his truck, shirtless, he’d be able to sell the real estate around his house for millions.

He watched her with those light eyes as she parked behind his truck and stepped out of her car. She shut the door and leaned against it, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a simple cotton sundress and sandals, and as his gaze dipped down her body and back up, she wished she’d worn more clothes. Like a parka. Anything to prevent seeing that spark of heat that was now in his eyes.

He didn’t talk, so finally she straightened and took a step toward him. She gestured toward her car, where the container of granola sat on the passenger seat. “I brought some granola bars for Asher, like I promised.”

His gaze flicked to her car and then back to her. “Appreciate that.”

She cocked her head. “Is he here?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, so the muscles in his biceps and forearms flexed. “Nah, he’s with a friend.”

“A friend?

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