Outside the Lines - Lisa Desrochers Page 0,61

for the threat. I’m getting out of the car with my monkey wrench when he strides up and looks me over with concerned eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Hopefully, Frank just has a case of indigestion.” I lift the hood and prop it, and immediately, I know it’s not going to be as easy as tapping the alternator. I swipe my finger over the trickle of dark oil leaking down the side of the crankcase. “Damn.”

Rob looks at my finger, then at me. “I don’t know much about cars, but that doesn’t look right.”

“It’s not.” I blow a strand of hair off my face and pull out my phone.

“Hey, Ade,” Chuck says when he answers.

“Hey. What are the chances you’re free for a little Frank time later on?”

“Shit, Ade. I’m behind on old man McCreary’s Ford. I’ll be lucky to finish it tonight. Can you bring him by tomorrow?”

“Well . . . that’s sort of the problem. I can’t bring him by at all. The gasket finally blew. When can you come by with the truck?”

“Now. Where are you parked?”

“At school. I’ve got an interview at three, so if you could swing me home on the way back to the shop, that would be great.”

“What interview?” he asks.

“Mrs. Martin is retiring. I’m hoping they’ll give me this job for real. If you take me home, I can pick up Mom’s car and still get to the interview in time.”

“Awesome, Ade. I’ll be by in fifteen. Swing by the shop when you’re back from Loveland and, as soon as I’ve wrapped up McCreary’s car, we can get on Frank.”

“Thanks, Chuck. You’re the best.”

I disconnect and look up to find Rob studying me. “What?”

“That your PTSD friend?” There’s an edge to his voice and I’m not sure what it means. Is he jealous? A prickle of goose bumps sends the hair on my arms standing on end at the thought.

I nod. “Chuck. He’s a great guy.”

“Is he coming for you?”

“Yeah. He’ll be here in fifteen.”

His lips press into a line. “Okay.”

“Unless . . . ,” I say, a desperate little tingle in my stomach. “Would you mind giving me a ride home? Chuck’s busy on another project, so he won’t need me for a while.”

“Need you?” he asks, his eyebrows rising.

“To help. We rebuilt Frank together in auto shop when we were in high school. No one touches Frank unless I’m scrubbed in to assist. Not even Chuck.”

A smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “Really.”

“Really,” I confirm, though it wasn’t a question. “So, can you give me a lift?”

He nods slowly.

I dial Chuck again and tell him to take his time picking up Frank because I have a ride home, and I’ll meet him at the shop later. I reach in and grab my messenger bag off the passenger seat, then make my way to Rob’s car.

“Hey, Sherm,” I say when he steps out of the passenger seat.

“Are you coming home with us?” he asks. Something inside me warms at the adoration on his face.

“My car broke down. Your brother was nice enough to offer me a ride home.”

His gaze flicks to Rob and back, then he opens the back door and hops in. “Sit with me.”

I smile and slide in next to him. “Home, Jeeves,” I say to Rob as he folds his large frame into the driver’s seat.

“Where to?” he asks, flicking me a glance in the rearview.

“Take a right out of the lot, then a left on Dunbar in the middle of town. We’re about a mile up on a little road off to the right.”

He backs out of the parking spot and looks at me as he shifts gears. “We?”

“Me and my dad,” I answer.

The side of his thumb taps on the steering wheel as he pulls onto the road and he flicks a glance at Sherm in the mirror. He makes the left onto Dunbar at the police station, and the knot in my stomach tightens when I see Dad’s cruiser in the lot.

I look down at Sherm. “Which book did you bring home tonight?”

He pulls a hardback book about sharks that I’ve never seen before from his backpack.

“That’s not mine,” I say, taking it from his hand.

“Lee took me to the library,” he answers. “I got three others too.”

I flip open the book and find a picture of a diver in a cage being circled by three huge sharks. I shudder and hand him back the book.

Sherm laughs at me, and I can’t help the

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