10. Parker
10
PARKER
T he hazy feeling of panic, hurt, and sadness slowly fades the further away from Danny I get. The sound of my car’s engine and some space allows clarity to infiltrate the “ What did I do?” chant that’s been running on repeat in my head since Danny and I talked at the airport.
It’s been four days since he kissed me, told me he wanted me, and I somehow rejected him, and honestly, I still have no idea what the hell happened.
His lips on mine was the kind of kiss fantasies are made of. It was perfect. But then he was talking, and I wasn’t listening, and somehow now I’m living with a man who told me he wanted me, but who thinks I don’t want him, and I have no idea what to do.
Half of me has been practicing what I’ll say to him when I tell him he got it wrong, that I do want him; that I’ve always wanted him. But the other half keeps telling me that this is for the best. That having him as a safe but untouchable friend is better than risking everything on the world’s most unlikely relationship.
Except it already feels like our friendship is ruined. The ease and comfort between us has gone, and I have no idea if it’ll ever come back. After the first day stuck in my car together, I honestly considered abandoning my baby and all of my belongings and getting on a plane, because the idea of being forced to spend at least two or three more days with him in a confined space felt like more than I could handle.
As the days passed, it slowly got less awkward and more just…painful. I never in my wildest dreams thought that Danny would want me like that. So, I don’t understand why I didn’t jump for joy, why we’re not enjoying the sex-soaked honeymoon phase of what I’m sure would probably be a short-lived relationship.
I guess I just answered my own question. I didn’t immediately say yes, because I’m not interested in having a fling with Danny. I know I’m not his normal type. I’ve seen the pictures he’s tagged in, all different women, different hair colors, different ethnicities, but they all have one thing in common: they’re all athletic, slim cheerleader types.
I don’t want to be his experiment with chubby girls. I saw the way his eyes lit up when he talked about me being curvy, and he was clearly into it in the moment. But how long will he be into it? Opposites may attract, but do they last? Somehow, I doubt it, and I’m not willing to risk a great friendship on him wanting to watch my ass jiggle when he spanks it.
But god, I want to know how it feels for my ass to jiggle when he spanks it. I want to know how it feels to be his. Inhaling sharply, I blow out a slow, calming breath and banish the mental image of him slapping my ass while he fucks me doggy style.
No matter what any woman says, doggy style is an amazing way to get fucked. Bent over, sometimes held down, while your pussy is railed from behind, is easily one of my top three ways to take a dick. But throw in some dirty talk and a little spanking, and that jumps right to the number one spot, the trifecta of perfection.
After the other night when he came to my room, I know Danny has the kind of big dick energy that only comes with actually having a big dick to back it up. I bet after a rough quickie, I’d be feeling him all day.
A lusty whimper slips from my lips, and I have to physically shake off the need that’s building inside of me. Thinking about Danny fucking me isn’t going to fix anything. I basically said no to him—of course, I didn’t actually say no, I just didn’t really say anything, and he took that to mean no. But either way, his offer is officially off the table, and that’s a good thing.
Living with him now might be awkward for a few days, but by next week everything will go back to how it was before dildogate, and it’ll be like it never happened. Pulling my car into the lot behind the Barnett Auto Shop, I kill the engine, then take a moment to banish Danny and my personal problems from my head. Cars are my happy place, and this is my first day, so I need to make a good impression, not be distracted thinking about taking Danny’s cock.
It takes a little longer than expected for me to pull myself together, but by the time I climb out of my car, I’m cool, calm, and all about the engines I’m going to get to toy with today.
“Morning, Parker,” Penn calls the moment I duck under the half-opened roller shutter door and into the building.
“Hey,” I call back, watching Penn look at what I’m wearing.
Glancing down at my gym shorts and ratty tank, I flash him an awkward smile. “I have coveralls, I just run hot, so I prefer to just have these on underneath,” I assure him.
“If you let me know what size you wear, we’ll order you some of the coveralls with our logo on. We have a laundry service that comes to get them at the end of the week too, so you don’t have to block up your washer with the grease and dirt,” Penn says easily.
“Oh, yeah, okay, no worries.”
“I never showed you the offices and break room the other day, so I’ll give you the tour, and then we’ll see what we have on the schedule today. Now that you’re here, Bay and I plan to work half the week each, because neither of us wants to be here more than we want to be at home with our wives and kids. But if we get too busy, then we’ll double up, and it’ll be all hands on deck. Normally I’d try to ease you in, but I kind of need you to hit the ground running because we’ve gone from a four-man team down to a three.”
“I’m happy to jump in,” I say, excited to be treated like I’m competent and not a fucking leper for having a vagina.
Holding the door open for me, Penn motions for me to step past him and into a small office. A young guy is sitting behind the desk, a computer in front of him and piles of paperwork that he’s efficiently sorting into piles and stapling, surrounding him. “Henry, this is Parker, she’s starting today. I’m sure you guys will get along,” Penn says, smiling warmly down at the guy. “Parker, Henry handles all the paperwork and runs the office. If you have a question about anything that isn’t a car, then he’ll probably know the answer.”
Henry and I wave at each other before Penn steers me out of the office. “Henry is our temp, he’s only been with us for a few months, but he’s already made himself invaluable. If you could do your best to convince him to stay, that’d be amazing,” Penn says in a low, quiet voice as we head back out into the main shop.
“Have you offered him a job?” I question.
“Two days after he started. He’s fantastic. I don’t know what’s stopping him from accepting it, but I’m hoping he’ll change his mind.”
Nodding, I follow his lead over to the huge whiteboard and file pockets that are attached to the exposed brickwork.
“Okay, so these are today’s jobs,” he says, pointing to a column with a handful of cars listed in it. “The paperwork for each job is in these file pockets, it’ll have owners’ details and any information we’ve got about the problem, or details of the job if it’s not a breakdown. The paperwork is pretty simple; keep track of the hours you log for each job and a list of any parts or sundries that are chargeable. Once you’re done, cross it off the board and take the paperwork into Henry.”
“That seems pretty straightforward,” I say.
“It’s not rocket science, but the last couple of guys we had working here sure seemed to find it difficult,” Penn says with a wry smile. “If we’re short on work and we don’t have any walk-ins or breakdowns, we have a couple of ongoing restoration projects that I’m confident you’re going to want to get your hands on. Right now, we’re not allocating any real time to them, just jumping on stuff when we have a chance. No pressure, but I saw that sweet ride of yours out in the lot. Danny said you and your dad restored that, so if you wanted to put some hours into the projects after the shops shut, then that’ll be overtime. But that’s only if you want to, the owner is happy for it to take as long as it takes.”
“Okay, great.”
“Do you have any questions for me?” he asks.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty excited to get started,” I admit.
“Then let’s get to it.”
The day flies by so quickly it barely feels like I blink before Penn is pulling down the shutter and stripping out of his coveralls.
“So, how was your first day?” he asks, grabbing two sodas from the refrigerator and handing one to me.
“Not to sound like a brown noser…but it was the best day I’ve had in a really long time.” I grin.
“That’s music to my ears,” Penn says, grinning right back at me. “Danny said you had some issues at your last job?”
“Being a woman in this industry is hard,” I admit. “After my dad passed, I tried to keep his shop open, but the people who had been happy to let me work on their cars while my dad was alive, all suddenly decided that the auto shop on the other side of town and twice as expensive as me, was a better choice. Folks I’d known my entire life picked a male mechanic over me, simply because I was a girl. After I had to close the shop, I found a chain auto repair company with a no-discrimination policy and took a job with them, but the moment I walked through the door, they instantly hated me because I have a vagina. I lasted as long as I could, but being universally hated, simply because of what’s between my legs got old.”
“That won’t happen here. All I care about is your ability to fix cars, and if what I’ve seen today is any indication of how good you are, then those assholes’ loss is our gain. If anyone has a problem with you working on their car, then they can go and find a different shop to take it to. No exceptions,” Penn says, his voice hard and determined.
“No…I?—”
“We have enough customers to weed out the misogynistic assholes and tell them to take a hike,” Penn snarls, flashing me a look that’s so determined, I almost take a step back.
“Thank you.” My words come out as barely a whisper, but Penn hears them and dips his chin in acknowledgment.
“Hey,” a small voice says as I step into the break room to grab my bag and change out of my coveralls.
Spinning around, I find Henry crouched on the floor, pulling a ragged-looking fabric backpack from a locker.
“Oh, hi, Henry.”
“How was your first day?” he asks, straightening to his full height. He’s taller than me, but not tall, tall. The first word that springs to mind when I look at him is pretty. His features aren’t feminine, but he’s beautiful, kind of like how I’d expect a male fairy to look. His warm-brown-colored hair is a little too long to be short but not long enough to be classified as long. Dressed in slim-tailored pants, a button-down shirt, and a knit sweater, he kind of looks like a kid, although I’m guessing he must be older than he appears.
“It was great, thanks. My last job was awful, so I was more than a little nervous about today,” I admit.
“The Barnetts are good people,” he says, pulling his backpack straps over his shoulders.
“They seem like they are. My friend Danny has known them for a while, and he’s got nothing but good things to say about them.”
“I haven’t been here that long, but I like them. The other guys…” He snaps his mouth shut, his cheeks heating.
“I thought it was just Penn and Bay now?” I ask.
“It is. But when I started, Hugh and Lenny were still here. They weren’t…” His voice trails off.
“Weren’t what?” I ask.
“Ignore me. I shouldn’t have said anything. I need to get going, or I’ll miss my bus.”
“You don’t live in town?” I ask, closing my locker and following Henry out of the room.
“No, my apartment is in Bozeman.”
“Isn’t that nearly an hour away?” I ask.
“A little longer on the bus, but yeah.”
“Is that why you don’t want a permanent job here?”
“One of the reasons.”
“Is there another reason you wouldn’t want to permanently work here?” I ask, goose bumps prickling across my arms. “I won’t say a word, but I just moved my entire life here for this job, so I’d rather know now if there’s something that’s going to make me regret my decision.”
Henry’s eyes widen. “No. No. There’s nothing now. The Barnetts are great, honestly, they are, and…there’s nothing for you to regret, not about working here. I promise,” he says quickly.
“Nothing now,” I say slowly. “So, there was before.” I surmise. “Did the other guys who used to work here, Lenny, and what did you say his name was? Give you a hard time?”
“No. It’s. I.” He stumbles over his words. “I’m gay,” he whispers. “They didn’t like it.”
“Those fucking assholes,” I growl, angry for this person I just met but who already seems so freaking sweet. “Did Penn and Bay know?”
He shakes his head. “I’m a temp, temps shouldn’t rock the boat.”
“Fuck that, if someone is being a homophobic jerk, you tip the damn boat over.”
Henry’s lips curve into a soft smile, and I smile back.
“I’m glad you’re here, Parker.”
“I’m glad you’re here too, Henry. Is there a later bus you can catch? Do you want to get some dinner? I don’t really know anyone other than Danny in town, and I’m up for making a new friend if you are?”
“I’d like that,” he says softly.
Pulling my cell from my bag, I type out a quick message to Danny.
Me: Having dinner with a friend, didn’t want you to worry. Be back later. P x
“I spotted a diner in town, have you ever eaten there?” I ask as we step out of the shop and into the cool early evening air.
“Bay ordered lunch for everyone a few times from there, the food was really good.”
“Let’s go then.”
Granny Annie’s diner is bustling with people eating early dinner, but the waitress directs us to a small booth in the back before filling our water glasses and handing us menus.
“So, tell me a little about yourself, Henry,” I prompt.
“There’s not much to tell. I’m twenty-two. I graduated last year from Montana State with a degree in business administration, and I’ve been temping ever since.”
“No wonder Penn is so desperate to give you a job, aren’t you a little overqualified to be doing paperwork in a small-town auto shop?” I question.
“Overqualified, maybe. Underexperienced, absolutely. Until I started at the temp agency, the only job I’d ever had was as a paperboy. I moved about a lot as a kid, so I focused on studying. I applied for every single scholarship I even remotely fit the criteria for, and when I graduated from college, I thought I was set. But no one actually ever warns you that having a degree doesn’t guarantee you a job. I spent the first month after school ended applying for every single job I could find, anywhere in the continental US. But so did every other business administration graduate, and I needed to pay my rent.”
“I get it. I took a shitty job to pay my bills too,” I tell him. “I guess it makes sense that you don’t want to take the job at the garage if you’re still hoping for something better.”
“The stupid thing is that the only jobs I’m even remotely qualified for are entry-level, and the job Penn and Bay offered me pays almost twice that.”
“Are you still holding out hope for something in a big corporate company?” I ask.
“Honestly, if the garage were closer to Bozeman, I’d take the job in a hot minute. But spending over two hours a day on a bus is killing me, and as much as I wish I could, I can’t drive. I even looked at moving here, but the rent in this town is crazy high because of the tourists and how close it is to the ski resorts, and on my temp salary, I can barely make rent on the shoebox I live in now.”
“That sucks, Henry, I’m sorry.”
“It really sucks. Before, when those two jackasses worked there, I didn’t care because there’s no way I could have worked with them full time anyway. But now they’re gone and you’re here. I wish there was a way I could figure it out, but there isn’t. Now it’s only a matter of time before the Barnetts find someone full time, and I go back to shitty two-day gigs delivering the mail and shredding old paperwork.”
“Have you told Penn or Bay any of this? Maybe they could help you work something out?” I suggest.
“It’s not their problem, it’s mine.”
“Penn asked me to try to convince you to take the job. If you tell him your issues, I’d bet he’d do what he could to try and solve them for you.”
Henry’s eyes widen, then his expression turns pensive. “Is that why you asked me to have dinner?” he asks, resigned sadness glimmering in his expressive green eyes.
“No, absolutely not. I asked you to have dinner with me because the only person I know in town is my friend Danny. He and I are in the middle of a really tricky situationship right now, and I could use a friend that isn’t him.”
“A situationship?” he questions with an arch of his eyebrows.
“It’s a long, pathetic story,” I admit.
“The last bus is at ten p.m. I have time.”