Joker (Hell's Ankhor #8) - Aiden Bates Page 0,32

big bowl with an open beer on the counter next to him.

“So you can design, carve, and you’re a good cook?” I said with a sideways glance as Joker spread the potatoes out on a sheet pan.

“This ain’t cooking,” he said with a shrug. “You’re cooking.”

“Am not, I’m searing,” I said. I slid the steaks, still in their cast iron pan, into the oven to finish. Joker motioned for me to keep the oven open, and he slid the potatoes in, as well.

“So I guess neither of us are cooks, then,” Joker said with a grin.

“Guess not.” I raised my beer to his and we tapped the glass necks together.

“I bet it’ll turn out all right.”

We leaned against the counter, sipping our beers as we waited for the food to finish cooking. It should’ve been a little awkward—we hadn’t spent any time together like this without the crew around or the excuse of work. Right now, we were just.

Friends. Maybe.

Maybe more.

I wasn’t sure yet. I still couldn’t figure out what he wanted. But—it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, with music playing low, and the television showing an old action movie on mute. It was easy having him around.

“I can’t believe you’re self-taught with that level of skill,” I said. The carving was still on my mind. He’d looked so sexy when I’d walked into the workshop, bent over the slab of wood with his ass in those riding jeans looking spectacular. And he’d been so zeroed in on the work that he hadn’t even heard me come into the garage.

I’d taken a moment in the open garage doorway to admire him—the long line of his back, the strength in his forearms and biceps, the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he focused on outlining the logo in the slab of wood. I’d definitely be returning to that image in private.

“What do you mean?” Joker asked curiously. “It’s just practice.”

I laughed. “Don’t sell yourself short. I couldn’t teach myself that.”

Joker smiled a little at his feet. “Yeah, you probably could.”

“Hell no.” I checked the steaks—they looked perfect. I pulled out the cast iron pan and set it on the stove to rest. “I don’t think I could self-teach myself anything. My dad taught me everything I know about building. Honestly, he’s still the one I go to for advice on the more complicated jobs.”

“He’s a builder, too?” Joker asked.

“Yeah,” I said. I pulled out the potatoes, too, and grabbed the plates. Joker followed my lead, fixing himself a plate and then following me as I moved to sit down on the couch. The whole not-having-guests things had led me to forgo ever buying a real table—I ate most of my meals on the couch in front of the television, anyway. And Joker didn’t seem to have a problem with that, either. “He’s a genius at it, too. Mom’s in accounting, so she helps me with my books around tax season. And I’ve got two sisters. We’re all pretty close—I’m lucky.”

I cut into my steak. Perfect medium rare. And the potatoes looked good, too.

“You’re definitely lucky,” Joker agreed, but there wasn’t any jealousy or anger in his voice. He just said it like a fact. “I’m not close with my parents at all, never was. I was with my brother though—we were inseparable while he was alive.” Grief flickered across Joker’s face again. “He was the reason I started whittling, you know. We didn’t have a lot of money, so it was an easy and cheap way to make him laugh.”

He got a slightly distant, sad look on his face as he remembered it. Part of me wanted to push, to ask for more information about his brother, but so far I’d learned that prodding Joker didn’t always work. Better to let him take his time and tell his story at the pace he wanted.

“Have you ever thought about a career in woodworking? I know I’ve brought it up before, but looking at that carving—you seriously have a gift.” I shrugged a little sheepishly. “I was raised by an entrepreneur, and I am one myself. I can’t help but call out business opportunities when I see them.”

Joker sighed and set his half-finished plate down. “I mean. How could I? I didn’t even finish high school.”

“So what?” I worked in construction—half the best construction guys I knew didn’t finish. “Don’t need school to learn how to build.”

Joker didn’t look convinced, though. “Nah, I don’t need that. I’ve got enough work with