Chapter 13
Kipp
I never imagined myself to be this.
Fuck yeah.
That was the dream as a kid.
An F1 commentator?
Of course.
Nowadays any gearhead with a camera phone, decent mic, and internet connection can do that shit.
Garage owner?
Sure.
It ran in my blood.
But a minivan dad?
Nope.
Like a car covered in astroturf…I did not see that shit coming.
But if I’m gonna do this shit…I’m gonna do this shit right .
And having lights that sync to the music playing in Big Bessie is doing this shit right.
While our son’s in his baby model, it’ll help keep him relaxed and entertained and brain developing during longer trips to the nearby cities and then when he’s in his teen model, it’ll give a badass, underground race vibe that lets all his friends know we’re the FF dads.
Okay.
I’ll be the Fast & Furious dad.
Young and innovative and willing to do the risky shit.
Nolan will most likely still be the Bandit Trans Ams.
Classic and aggressive and set in his design.
All of a sudden, an unsuspecting shiver runs up spine prompting me to sharply look to the left for the cause of the surprise sensation.
Seeing no one in the area nor near it has me uncomfortably shifting my weight between my feet.
I don’t know what or who I was expecting to see.
McShitstick is dead.
Like… dead, dead.
And he doesn’t have siblings.
Or lackeys anymore.
Could be one of his parents but…they don’t know what we look like.
At least…I don’t think they do.
I hope they don’t.
Shaking away the unwanted feeling precedes me folding my arms across my black, clean t-shirt and leaning slightly back to continue my contemplation over the prices.
Boat and Butler both said this place would have the best toys for custom car enthusiasts – I mean it’s like a candy shop for revheads – but they failed to mention they might not have the best prices.
Not saying I can’t afford them.
Just not sure they’re worth the ones I’m clocking.
My eyes begin to float lower towards the bottom row where the exterior lights are located, instantly hit by a jolt of excitement.
Should we get under glow too?!
That’ll really give Big Bessie the O’Connor vibe.
“First time here?” a smooth voice unexpectedly coos from over my shoulder. The instant I turn my head, I’m greeted by a grinning, brown eyed, browned skinned, bearded guy that I’d bet the title to our minivan is about my age. “You’ve got that classic car dude at a vintage show look goin’ on.”
It’s impossible not to chuckle. “Do I?”
“Yeah,” he coyly beams back, “but it’s cute.” There isn’t time to respond to the compliment. “I’m Mark.”
“Kipp.”
“Well, Kipp ,” the ease at which he says my name is surprising, “might I suggest this brand,” a gesture is made to the far left at the same time he moves to be beside me, “if you’re looking for interior lighting.
The transition of color flow is way more natural plus it possesses numerous customizable features such as specific light location and duration, meaning you can be business in the front and party in the back. ”
Additional laughs mindlessly escape. “Isn’t that the shit they say for mullets?”
“Couldn’t tell ya,” Mark snickers. “But I can tell you, it doesn’t come with a remote. Everything is from your app, so if your app fucks up or your phone fucks up or you’re phone illit, you’re fucked.”
“You work for the company or something?”
“Nah.” The brush off is attached to a small shrug. “Just know my shit.” Another point is made to the bottom row. “Like I know that there’s no better fucking brand for under glow than that one.”
My head tilts in a silent request for more information.
“Easy to install. Comes with a remote as well as an app. And most importantly… ” he dramatically leans a little closer, “it is actually water resistance unlike its competitors that claim to be yet malfunction the second they go through a basic bitch carwash.”
“Maybe that’s their punishment for being willing to spend their money on accessories but cuttin’ the wheel when it comes to the real cost of upkeeping a beauty.”
“Is it wrong I think the same shit?”
Once more, I can’t resist the urge to laugh.
Huh.
Guess over the past couple of months I’ve forgotten how much fun it is to talk car shit with someone other than Nolan.
First it was that long call with Butler about why the vehicle he was working on really needed high performance brake fluid.
Then it was talking interior designs with Boat while stripping down Big Bessie.
And now this.
Proper care which doesn’t get discussed enough in my daily life.
Especially not with my fiancés.
“It’s like come on, man, if you’re gonna shell out the cash for the top of the line high-flow catalytic converters, performance headers, and an aftermarket exhaust system, don’t cheap out on the sauce. Give your girl what she deserves.” His grin matches my own. “Wine her-”
“ Top level detailing.”
“Dine her-”
“Best fuel for optimal performance.”
“And 69 her.”
“Top her out. Not bottom.”
“ Exactly. ” Another round of snickers is shared prior to him asking. “So, mind if I ask if this shopping trip is for business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure.” Adjusting my frame to better face his occurs next. “Though I do car shit for work too.”
“Performance installer?”
“In my off hours,” I warmly retort.
“And in your on?”
“Gearhead with his own garage.”
“Here in Crystal Waters?”
“Death Canyon.”
“I was gonna say…” more light laughs escapes, “I was pretty sure I knew all the non-chain garage owners in the city.”
“What about you?” I casually shove my hands into my jean pockets. “What do you do?”
“Lead in house mechanic for Loreville Children’s Medical Hospital and their parent network Wilhelm Medical Foundation, which just means they ship my ass all over the country to work under whatever hood they want me to.”
An unexpected, impressed hum escapes. “That’s like Rolls Royce shit.”
“Prestigious? Pretentious?”
“Not exactly something you hear about as often as others.”
“Depends on where you do your laps.”
The racing reference receives an amused nod. “ True. ”
“Like you, I come here for pleasure .” Mark steals an undeniably slow lick of his lips. “No doubt.”
Oh.
Ohhhhhhh.
He’s into me.
Fuck, he’s into me?!
I mean I’m not into him but him into me is kinda surprising.
I’m used to car talk.
Not car flirt.
I don’t know anyone other than Nolan who has ever car flirted with me.
I actually don’t know any other gearheads that have been interested in working a wrench outside of the shop.
Not saying that they don’t exist.
Just saying I’ve never met one.
Until now.
“You preppin’ for a project to keep you busy during the winter storm that’s coming next week?
” Mark nonchalantly investigates. “They’re saying it’ll be pretty impossible to get around town for at least a couple of days, especially between cities.
” His eyes stay focused on mine. “I’ve got a buddy that works for the county and salts roads for this type of shit and even he says between the ice that’s supposed to hit and an understaffed department to deal with the problem that he thinks people won’t be able to travel safely for at least four or five days. Longer on the outskirts.”
“Not too worried.” My dark shirt covered shoulders bounce. “But thanks for the update. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Mark steals another lick of his lips post drinking in my full frame. “Any chance you wanna go grab a beer?” Our eyes lock a second time. “Talk shop outside of this shop?”
My mouth moves to politely decline when a voice I’ll never get enough of grumps, “You’re not gettin’ a Fiat, Rabbit.”
“But that’s what I want.”
“That not what you want. You’re just pretendin’ to want it because I don’t want you to have it.” She poorly hides her grin prompting him to sigh upon their arrival, “Kid, tell her she can’t have a fuckin’ Fiat.”
“You can’t have a Fiat,” leaves me without hesitation.
“ Excuse you. ”
“Maintenance is shitty, baby. More often than most and more expensive.”
“Baby?” the male who was hitting on me less than quietly questions.
“ Bunny ,” she sassily announces at the same time she flashes her left hand, “ the fiancée. ”
“Ah,” Mark does his best not to let his grin fade, “I didn’t realize he was engaged.” He kicks his chin towards Nolan before I can speak. “And you must be his dad?”
“ That never gets old, ” mirthfully murmurs our girl.
“No,” Nolan huffs, “I’m the one that put that ring on her finger and his .”
“I didn’t see a ring,” informs the guy who should probably be exiting.
On that line, Nolan shifts his glare along with his attention to me. “You not wearin’ your ring?”
“I uh…” giving the back of my neck an uncomfortable scratch is absentmindedly executed, “I took it off for work. Forgot to put it back on.”
“ You forgot to put it back on?! ” growls one of the only people I’ve ever met that can be both sexy and angry simultaneously.
Fuck, I love when he gets like this.
I just prefer him to be mad at bills.
Or the computer.
Or the microwave.
Not me.
Never me.
“I’m…gonna…go,” Mark poorly points off in the distance behind him. “It was uh…nice to meet you, Kipp.”
The small wave I deliver acts as his exit and Nolan’s excuse to angle himself to block the fleeing gearhead from view. “ How could you forget to put it back on? ”
“We were already running late, and I didn’t wanna run any later, and all I was thinking about was rushing to get to you before you got a call to be somewhere else, and it just slipped my mind in the process.”
“Why the fuck was it off to begin with, Kid?”
“It’s not ideal when doin’ electrical shit, and somethin’ tells me that’s not what they were singin’ about in that old movie with the ’49 Mercury.”
Bunny shakes her head in obvious amusement. “Can’t remember the name of the movie is Grease but easily remembers the fucking car.”
“He’s a gearhead, Rabbit.” Our fiancé casually balls up the edge of my shirt and yanks me towards them. “Of course that’s what he remembers.”
I do my best not to blush at his proud tone.
Possessive grip.
“And from now on, this gearhead better always remember his fuckin’ ring ,” his dark glare holds my crystal one hostage. “ We clear? ”
“ Yes, Sir ,” I practically pant.
“Good,” he hums in response, our mouths brushing together. “Now, let’s go get lunch before I turn you two into it instead.”