Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,86

scratched the patch on his arm. “What was that look for in there?”

Jack took another pull of beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before sticking his lit cigarette between his lips. “I’m not so good at this.”

Cal waited.

Jack hollowed his cheeks and blew the smoke out, staring out of the garage doors. “Takes me time to get used to new things. Thought Max would be working with us, but he ain’t. He’s off working as a big-shot teacher, and that’s great. But it threw me for a loop that he didn’t want to work at the garage with us.”

That had been a point of contention when Max was a senior in college. Cal thought he’d get a business degree and then come work at the garage, but Max had other plans. It’d taken his being laid up in the hospital to get the guts to tell Dad what he really wanted to do. And it’d taken his son getting injured for Dad to accept it.

Again, Cal waited.

“So I wasn’t prepared for things to change again.” Jack’s jaw was tight as hell, grinding his molars. Cal could imagine this admission was a little painful. “I like your tools with me and your body in the bay beside mine. I know I can rely on you.”

Cal’s body went hot. “Thanks, Dad.”

“So I’m stubborn. I know that. And every time you asked about changing things, about working on bikes, I dug my heels in more.”

Cal held his breath, waiting to hear what came next, because this seemed really important.

“So if you wanna hang out your shingle at the shop, then we’ll make it work.”

Cal’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t see a need for it until today. But I’m not having the people of this town go to some hack. You know what you’re doing.”

Cal blinked. “You really changed your mind?”

Jack squinted at him. “I did. I’m old and set in my ways. Cut me some fucking slack.”

Cal stared at the stained concrete under his boots. He knew a thing or two about being stubborn. Change sucked; he got that. Hell, that’s what he’d hid behind to drive away Jenna.

The realization flushed through his body like a bucket of ice. He was just like his fucking dad, wasn’t he? A gruff mechanic who wasn’t willing to take on anything new because of the fear of the unknown. And hell, a couple of weeks ago, Cal was well on his way to smoking a pack a day like his dad. He’d spent all his life, determined not to become his father, and that’s what he’d become.

Alone. Stubborn.

An asshole.

Oblivious to Cal’s crisis, Jack took another pull of his beer. “You’re all assholes for riding bikes, but at least you’ll all be safe assholes if you fix shit.”

Call tried to focus back on the conversation. “Appreciate the confidence. Dad, I’m still going to be in the shop. I’ll still work on cars with you.”

Jack picked at the label on his bottle. “Guess you’re right.”

“Yeah, I am right.”

“Need a new hire.”

“Brent said we can afford it, and I’ve actually been gathering résumés.” Jack shot him a sharp look. Cal decided not to mention the place he’d been about to rent. “Just in case.”

Jack was willing to risk this, take on a whole new business after forty years in the business. Cal had thrown in the towel and declared bachelorhood at thirty. What the hell was his problem?

Gravel crunched under tires, and Cal looked up to see a car pulling into his driveway. He squinted but didn’t recognize the car, so he walked out of the garage, his dad on his heels.

A silver sedan parked and a sandaled foot stepped out of the driver’s side. When the woman stood up, she brushed her brown hair over her shoulder and looked right at Jack.

“Hey, Jill,” his dad said. And Cal almost swallowed his tongue.

He’d been a kid the last time he’d seen his mom. And she’d been that young woman in his mind this whole time. Jill now was . . . well, she was older, with fine lines in her brow and crinkles at the corners of her eyes. Her hair was streaked with gray. She walked slowly toward them, and Cal was surprised at how short she was. Must be why Cal wasn’t anywhere near as tall as his dad.

“Hey, Jack,” she said, her voice wobbly. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain.”

Jill’s eyes were on Cal now, taking him in, those warm brown eyes—so like