Chapter Eight
Roxanne glanced down at the clock as she came to the end of his cul-de-sac.
She was about ten minutes early. Eager, much?
Though she planned on feigning the epitome of calm, cool, and collected, she couldn’t deny the constant butterflies she’d been fighting all morning.
It was worse than ten years ago when she went on her first date.
That was a nightmare, courtesy of her brothers.
She let up on the gas, scanning the street.
She could circle the block, killing time.
Or I can put on my big-girl panties and arrive early?
Decision made. She pulled into his driveway, passing the house and parking behind Jonah’s truck.
There were two identical outbuildings. A sign would’ve been helpful, though she had no issue with mistakenly stumbling into his workshop.
Her curiosity was getting the best of her.
Roxanne got out, making her way to the back door of the house when she heard the faint sound of music coming from one of the garages.
As she approached, she could hear muffled voices.
She slowly opened the door and crept inside. A large red tool box blocked her view, but the voices were loud and clear. Jonah and Holden.
“Dude, there’s no way you’re buying her beer you hate and pizza with frickin’ fungus on it if you two aren’t banging.”
Roxanne stilled and clamped her lips, fighting her chuckle. Others may have been offended. Not Roxanne. She was amused. Taking it from the source, an eighteen-year-old with confidence issues? It was expected. And hopefully something he’d mature out of.
“If you say, banging one more time, I’m taking your phone and exiling you to your room for the rest of the weekend.” There was a pause. “But not before I beat the shit outta you.”
It was always interesting to hear conversations not meant for her ears.
This was guy talk, and Jonah could’ve easily taken part in the locker room chat.
After all, he didn’t know she was there.
But Jonah was having none of that. His tone was fierce and strong, making his threat believable.
Though she didn’t think he’d actually beat up his little brother. And it seems Holden doubts it too.
“Jeez, bro, relax. I’m just sayin’, if you are bang—” She could hear the shuffle of feet and angled her head to see past the tool shed. Holden rushed to the other side of the workbench, putting space between them. It was a smart move considering the glare Jonah was shooting his brother.
“I mean, dating. If you're dating a girl who looks like Roxanne, you tell people, man.” Holden snorted. “If I were dating her?” He whistled, and she caught him shaking his head. “I’d be taking pictures of her just to show my friends.”
Thanks, Holden, that’s sweet.
“And I’d be banging her.”
Roxanne rolled her eyes. Ahh … eighteen.
“I’m fixing her car.” Jonah’s words were slow and dragged out, emphasizing the sole reason for her being there.
“Yeah, but you bought her shit beer and now you’re getting her dinner?”
Shit beer? She resisted the urge to scoff.
“It’s fucking pizza, Hold. Pizza.” Jonah was losing his patience.
“Sounds like a date to me.”
Me too.
While she was thoroughly enjoying the banter and gaining some insight, this needed to end before Holden did offend her with something he’d say.
She stepped out from behind the toolbox and slowly moved closer.
Simultaneously, the brothers jerked their heads in her direction.
It was strange that she hadn’t noticed before how much they looked alike.
Especially with similar expressions, though Holden’s blush set them apart.
He appeared embarrassed as opposed to Jonah, who seemed pissed off.
His jaw squared, and she sensed he was clenching his teeth.
This probably wasn’t the conversation he wanted her to overhear.
Especially since she was the main topic.
“I’m a little early. I hope that’s okay.”
Jonah cleared his throat, forced a smile and sent a harsh scowl to Holden.
It took his brother a little longer to recover.
Holden shifted on his feet and tucked his hands in his pockets.
It was an interesting transition. His face went from flaming cheeks to pale as a ghost. He darted his eyes to Jonah and then back to her.
“Uh, how much of that did you hear?” he asked.
Roxanne smirked and cocked a brow. “We’re not banging.”
“Oh, fuck me,” he muttered. It was low, but she heard it, and so did Jonah.
“Mouth,” Jonah snapped, which sent Holden skirting further away.
His lips smacked together, opening and closing adorably. “Sorry.”
And he was. There was no need to prolong his embarrassment, and she never got off on holding a grudge. He apologized, and they could move on. But not before learning an important lesson in tact.
She walked to the edge of the workbench, standing between the brothers. “You’re fine. I’m not offended. I’ve got four brothers. There’s not much you can say that would shock me. Besides, I appreciate you saying you’d show all your friends my picture.” She smiled. “That was sweet.”
He straightened his back, relief flashing across his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She folded her arms and sighed. “But then you ruined it with the whole banging comment.”
His smile faltered.
“Girls don’t like it. Talking shit like that? It’s what separates the men from the boys, you know?”
He clamped his lips, dropping his gaze to the floor. The silence lasted a few seconds.
“Go order the pizza,” Jonah said with an edge in his tone. Holden practically ran out past her, making no eye contact. She watched until he disappeared, then turned to see Jonah staring at her with the corner of his lip quirked up.
“Too harsh?” She asked.
“Fucking perfect.”
She snickered, tossing her pocketbook onto the bench. He had all the replacement parts laid out across a tarp on the ground.
“So, what am I looking at here?”
He bent down and proceeded to explain what the parts were, where they needed to go and the names of tools she’d never heard of.
She sort of listened as he broke down the repair and what he was going to do.
She heard him speak, but her focus was mainly on the edge of his shirt, which lifted when he reached forward.
A small sliver of tan skin, and the curve of his waist. With no sense of shame, she craned her neck, hoping to see a bit more.
When Jonah hitched back, she slid around his side.
“I’ll pull your car in and get started.” He glanced up. “Sound good?”
She grinned and felt a tinge of heat prickle her cheeks. Getting ogled was not what he’d signed up for when he offered to do the repairs. But by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled and his lips flattened, she didn’t think he was taking issue with it.
“Sounds great.” She dug in her bag, grabbing her keys and handing them to him. Her fingertips caressed over his scabbed knuckles during the exchange. With just a simple touch, her heartbeat accelerated and her mind was contemplating different scenarios. She needed a distraction.
Roxanne drew a breath, resting her hands on her hips. “So? What’s my job?”
“You’re serious about helping?”
“Sure, it’s why I’m here, right?”
“You’re here ‘cause my brother wrecked your back end. It’s his ass that’s supposed to be helping.”
She glanced around the garage. “Where is Crash Cord, anyway?”
He snickered, shaking his head, and circled the large toolbox. She’d noticed the beat-up fridge in the corner when she came in. He opened the door and reached in.
“Working overtime. He had a decent argument considering how much he owes me.”
Roxanne had a distinct feeling that Jonah was footing the bill for the parts. Though unwarranted, she felt a tinge of guilt.
He came back around with her beer and handed it to her.
Awe … he even took the cap off. Getting giddy over small details seemed juvenile.
Yet here I am, butterflies swirling. He pulled a stool over and propped it next to the workbench.
This could be equivalent to pulling out her seat, which she had a feeling Jonah did regularly for women.
She fought back the urge to smile and took a swig of beer, settling onto the stool.
Jonah left the garage momentarily to pull in her car.
She’d never been the type to join her boyfriend in the garage for car repairs.
The usual murmur from her brothers about anything automotive had her seeking new conversations.
But sitting in Jonah’s garage with him working in his space and sliding under her car?
She bit her lip, wishing the hem of his shirt would shift up. Just a little more.
You’re being creepy.
She went in search of a distraction and scanned the garage.
It was large and manly, with lots of tools, some familiar, most foreign to her.
It was large enough for two cars, but hers was centered in the middle.
The walls held banner flags of what she assumed were sports teams, though she didn’t know any of them.
“Where are your wood tools?”
He slid out from under the car and sat up, resting his arms on his knees. “My wood tools?”
“Yeah, for the tables and furniture. I kind of expected big machines.”
He tilted his head, and his lips twitched as if he were holding back a laugh. “I do all that in my workshop next door.”
“Oh. Maybe when you get done, you can show me?”
Or maybe not. The loss of humor was evident as he stared back at her. He stood and grabbed a rag, wiping off his hands. “It’s nothing special.”
That’s not what I heard. After the dinner at T’s place, Roxanne had interrogated Kenzie about Jonah wanting to know everything she knew. The conversation ultimately led to his workshop and the table he was making for them.
“According to Kenzie, it’s awesome. She said you had a few finished pieces that were amazing.”
He snorted. “She’s easily impressed.”