45. Forty-one
Forty-one
Beau
“ Y ou’ve got to be shitting me. No, no way.” My mouth fell open as I rubbed my eyes to reaffirm what I saw. “Make it make sense.”
“Sit down, Beau,” my dad said, pulling out the chair beside him and patting the seat.
My dad asked me to come by and meet the buyer of his automotive repair shop, buy a round of beers, and see that the sale wouldn’t be as cataclysmically terrible as I assumed.
I was not too thrilled to entertain my dad’s request, but I’d gotten us into this mess, so it was on me to make it as easy as possible for him.
I rubbed my eyes in disbelief to discover Adam sitting beside my dad in The Pub .
Letting out a whoop loud enough to earn Rena’s glare, I fist-pumped and clapped. “You sold that dump to this joker? How did you get the funds?”Taking a seat, I smacked Adam’s shoulder. “You start an OnlyFans or something? Foot stuff, huh?”
Adam dropped his head in his hands, sighing.
Besties being besties might be a lofty goal, but I’d snared Jake. Winning over Adam would be a cakewalk.
My dad reached for the pitcher in the center of the table, refilling Adam’s glass. “He didn’t come up with the funds,” he said. “Not entirely.” His eyes flashed to Jake, standing behind me. “He had some help.”
Possibly experiencing a cardiac event, I grasped at my chest and gaped. Jake, that shy asshole, scratched the back of his head and kicked at the floor.
Fallon clutched his arm and squeezed, her eyes adoring—and conspiring. Sweet girl, she knew the trap of surprise my dad weaved.
“What did you do?”
Jake cleared his throat—so damn cute to see him bashful. “I started an OnlyFans.”
Fallon squeaked, her face reddening as she smacked Jake on the back of the head and hissed something I couldn’t hear. Likely an angry reminder that my dad sat at the table, but that giant goober laughed loudest of all.
Jake kissed her temple, his arm draping over her shoulder to pull her close. “I used the savings from the Camaro. Didn’t seem so unreasonable to help Adam with a down payment.”
Fallon beamed with pride. I did, too—until I realized what that meant.
“The house,” I sputtered. “Your repairs.” I swung around to face Adam. “I’m sorry, but you can’t take Jake’s money. I’ll walk a few hundred thousand dogs before you take that money.”
Jake’s hand planted on my shoulder, squeezing tight. “That’s dream building money, Beau. I didn’t say it had to be my dream. Besides, I can do plenty on my own, slow as it may be.”
“I’ll help, too,” Adam jumped in.
“Count me in,” My dad nodded. “I’ll have time on my hands in retirement. With Adam’s offer, I can do that. I’d be honored to build my son’s love nest.”
“Don’t say that,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.
No . It was on the tip of my tongue—a knee-jerk response. Don’t sacrifice anything for me .
But Jake stopped me, that beautiful man with his beautiful grumpy heart. “Consider it collateral for staying. You worry we’re not all in? I call your bluff.”
“Dumb son of a bitch,” I murmured, out of my seat and hugging him.
“Get a room!” Fallon, with the ball-busting, pressed herself against my back to sandwich me. And let me tell you, I was hungry.
For their affection, connection, and commitment.
And bodies.
But mostly the other stuff.
Jake pulled away first, his cheeks slightly pink. He took an empty seat and accepted my dad’s offer of beer.
Holding up his pint, my dad toasted. “To the new business owners of Dalton’s Repair. Name the shop as you wish, but treat her as she deserves.”
“Oh,” Jake said, flustered. “I’m not—”
“You are,” Adam said, slugging him in the shoulder. “Until I pay you back. Which, running the place solo, could take a while.” He sipped his beer, studying Jake from the lip of it and raising his eyebrows.
Jake rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks even pinker. “I, uh. I’m a hobby mechanic at best. Certainly can’t diagnose or—”
“We all have to start somewhere,” Adam interrupted. “I’ll teach you what you don’t know the way Henry taught me. You’re smart, know your way around an engine, and are good with your hands.”
“Sure is,” I agreed, resting my chin on my fist as I propped my elbows on the table and grinned at Adam. “If he doesn’t want the job, I’m currently unemployed and eager to—”
“No,” Adam said.
Okay, not a total surprise, but I still had to figure out what to do with my life. What would I do if I wasn’t able to light myself on fire or jump out of a third-story window for the entertainment of others?
The paying entertainment of others.
Instinctively, I massaged my shoulder. Incredible that one part of my body could be responsible for most of my life choices over the last couple of years. I mean, dick aside.
It would be nice to consider doing something that doesn’t tear me apart or make me hate myself for my limitations.
Maybe I could find something I enjoyed… Without the risk of killing myself to do it.
It wouldn’t be automotive repair, as Adam made crystal clear, but there had to be something. I just needed to sniff it out.
A rumbling ruckus entered when Palmer’s crew rocked in. The disruptive band of misfits. They threw a few waves, grunts, and berating taunts our way as greetings.
Jim barked about my ditching out on buying my round last week and theorized that was why I quit. Danny claimed my precious soft hands got roughed up, and I couldn’t handle it.
A new guy named Luke chimed in with the possibility it was the shitty coworkers—the only suggestion to earn unanimous boos.
“All of the above, dipshits!” I hollered, flipping them off. I still bought their beers and toasted from across the pub, though.
Adam was in the middle of a story about Fallon’s ruthless bloodthirst in her game playing that had her slamming her fists on the table and objecting—while simultaneously proving his point—when Chad Tomlin and his trolling army strolled in.
“Beau,” Fallon said quietly, reaching under the table to place her hand on my knee.
Suddenly parched, I finished the last half of my beer and avoided their wary eyes.
“No sun umbrellas in here,” I grunted. “Nothing to worry about.”
Christ, that was embarrassing—all of it. But none of them said shit or called over, so there was at least that. Maybe we could just forget it.
Though my lip smarted from the cut reopening when my mouth stretched over Jake’s dick this morning, a painful reminder.
Girthy beast, my guy.
Chad and his dipshit clowns may not have jeered or taunted, but there’d be no apologies or acknowledgment of their shit behavior. Just an uneasy silence when I proved willing to chase them down and beat the hell out of them.
“Fuck it,” Jake said, rising from his chair. For a moment, I worried he’d pick it up and smash it over Chad’s bigoted head. Confused, I blinked up at him as he came around to my side of the table.
“What—”
His fingers twisted in the collar of my shirt, and he leaned down and kissed me. With tongue!
Swear I heard Chad choke on surprise, or maybe it was me. I wished I’d prepared myself better because I doubted that was a sexy-looking kiss when my eyes stayed open and my lips were too stiff to show off.
“Hell yeah!” Rena called from behind the bar, pumping her fist in the air.
A few people grumbled and turned away, but I hardly cared to tally up reactions when Jake kissed me in public . Besides, most people didn’t even look.
Maybe we should do it again—for them.
Fallon wasted no time to plant her hands on my cheeks and pull me in for a slow and sensual slip of the tongue.
My poor dad scratched his thumb along his eyebrow and stared at the empty glass in front of him.
Perhaps a tad performative, my palms slid up the column of Fallon’s neck before tangling in her hair and deepening the kiss.
“That was more impressive,” Adam murmured to Jake. “I expected better from you.”
“Trust me, Jake’s mouth can—”
“Beau!” my dad barked just as Fallon’s palm slapped over my enormous cavern of a mouth.
“Apologize for his failures,” I finished when Fallon reluctantly dropped her hand. Batting my lashes, I smiled and kissed her knuckles. “Jake’s mouth can apologize for his failures.”
She rolled those pretty amber eyes but didn’t pull away. I dove to press a kiss against her neck, delighting in her giggles.
“You knew what you signed up for. There was no false advertising.”
“Speaking of advertising,” Adam said, “I think we should consider new avenues for modernizing our reach to potential customers.” He cleared his throat, studying his hands as he spread his fingers wide over the table. “We might want to consider hiring someone—”
“Me?” I piped up.
Ignored, and rightfully, my offer went unanswered.
“You should,” my dad encouraged. “Word of mouth isn’t king these days. My lack of innovation hurt me.”
“OnlyFans,” I suggested. “Naked car repair how-tos.”
Everyone laughed, though I’d been serious.
Looking even more uncomfortable, Adam said, “Fiona Westwood is in town for a bit, doing PR work for her dad. With her success in Boston, maybe she could…”
He didn’t finish. Bewilderment rolled off Jake strong enough to shut him up. Fallon’s unhinged jaw didn’t help, either. Given Adam and Fiona’s history, I understood the confusion.
“Don’t kidnap her again,” I warned, tipping my glass to him. Fallon elbowed me in the gut. Hard. “Jesus, woman. It was a joke.”
I met Adam’s eyes and subtly shook my head. Not joking, I mouthed.
That was about when my dad excused himself, but not before patting Jake on the shoulder. “You should consider taking Adam’s offer seriously. Having you be part of this legacy would be an honor.”
Jake puffed a long breath, trying to play it tough when his insides undoubtedly went gooey.
“Thanks, Mr. Dalton.”
“Call him Dad,” I encouraged.
Adam spit out his beer, laughing like a lunatic. The first of many cracks to come in that hard shell of bestie armor.
Jake rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie—my hoodie he snagged this morning—and winked.
The humidity and wafting aroma of stale beer could have caused my heady buzz, or perhaps it was a stroke, but I preferred to believe emotions had me high in the sky with love.
What a goddamn day!
Three months ago, I claimed the start of my redemption arc, one that caught fire like the bag of dog shit I once left on Old Man Beckett’s front porch. Felt like I was the boot used to stomp it out.
But today? Today was the start of my redemption, no shit in sight. And hot damn, was it gonna be good.