groaned when he saw his bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror, then turned on the faucet and slapped cold water in his face.
You idiot, chided a voice inside his head. You had a willing woman in your bed last night and you sent her home because of a kiss you shared with Sheila. A kiss. Nothing more. And with Sheila! What's the problem here? Can't your ego take a rejection? Do you want Sheila simply because she said no and you aren't accustomed to being refused?
Just as Caleb reached out to turn on the shower, the telephone rang. He really didn't want to talk to anyone, but on the off chance it was Tallie checking up on him, he thought he'd better answer, otherwise his baby sister was liable to have the local sheriff out to check on him.
He picked up the receiver. "Yeah?"
"Caleb, this is Mike Hanley. I've found you a 1968 Firebird convertible. It needs a lot of work, but the body's sound. She used to be a beauty and if you're willing to put enough money into her, she can be a showstopper. Are you interested?"
Was he interested? Maybe. The only thing that had ever interested him much, besides baseball and women, was cars, and he'd never forget how much he'd loved his GTO.
At least overseeing the restoration of a car would give him something to occupy his mind until he decided what he was going to do with the next thirty or forty years of his life.
"I'm interested. How soon can you make the deal?"
"The car's here right now, at the garage," Mike said. "All you have to do is come in with your checkbook and you could take possession today."
"Yeah, sure. I'll run by in a while," Caleb said. "How long do you think it'll take to restore her?"
"That depends on how long you want to take." Mike chuckled. "If you're looking to kill some time, we could make the job last for months."
"I haven't tinkered around on a car in a long time, but I think it might do me good to get some grease under my fingernails while I'm killing time."
Sheila pretended not to notice Caleb when he arrived. He was the last person on earth she wanted to see—especially the morning after his big night with Gwyn Baker. She should have known that Gwyn would make a beeline straight to Caleb and that he, being the man he was, would take her up on what she was offering. It wasn't that Sheila disliked Gwyn. Despite the fact that their sons were good friends, she really didn't know Devin's mother all that well. Except by reputation, of course. Everyone in Crooked Oak knew that most men found the pretty, young divorcee irresistible and that people in general considered her irresponsible. Devin spent more time with his aunt than he did his mother. Yeah, Gwyn was just the type of woman Caleb needed—a fun-loving girl who wasn't looking for more than a good time.
"Hey," Caleb called when he entered the garage. "Where's Mike? He's supposed to have an old Firebird waiting here for me."
"Mike took the tow truck out," Sheila said, lifting her gaze from the order form on the desk in front of her. "There was a two-car wreck out on Willow Lane. He'll probably be busy for a couple of hours."
"Anybody hurt?" Caleb asked.
"Nothing serious."
How could one man be so gorgeous? Sheila mused. It just wasn't fair that Caleb was so beautiful and yet at the same time so very masculine. And it certainly wasn't fair that a plain girl like her had fallen head over heels in love with the handsomest man on earth twelve years ago.
"So, should I hang around and wait on Mike, or should I come back later?" Caleb asked, peering over the top of her computer.
"Suit yourself," she replied. "The Firebird is parked out back, so if you'd like to take a look, go right ahead. But if you'd prefer to come back when Mike's here, then you can probably catch Gwyn on her lunch break over at Amber's Beauty Bar."
"Amber's Beauty Bar. Hmm. Yeah, I think she mentioned she'd be free around noon." Caleb noted the slight flush on Sheila's cheeks and wondered if he had mistaken the sharp edge to her voice
You idiot, chided a voice inside his head. You had a willing woman in your bed last night and you sent her home because of a kiss you shared with Sheila. A kiss. Nothing more. And with Sheila! What's the problem here? Can't your ego take a rejection? Do you want Sheila simply because she said no and you aren't accustomed to being refused?
Just as Caleb reached out to turn on the shower, the telephone rang. He really didn't want to talk to anyone, but on the off chance it was Tallie checking up on him, he thought he'd better answer, otherwise his baby sister was liable to have the local sheriff out to check on him.
He picked up the receiver. "Yeah?"
"Caleb, this is Mike Hanley. I've found you a 1968 Firebird convertible. It needs a lot of work, but the body's sound. She used to be a beauty and if you're willing to put enough money into her, she can be a showstopper. Are you interested?"
Was he interested? Maybe. The only thing that had ever interested him much, besides baseball and women, was cars, and he'd never forget how much he'd loved his GTO.
At least overseeing the restoration of a car would give him something to occupy his mind until he decided what he was going to do with the next thirty or forty years of his life.
"I'm interested. How soon can you make the deal?"
"The car's here right now, at the garage," Mike said. "All you have to do is come in with your checkbook and you could take possession today."
"Yeah, sure. I'll run by in a while," Caleb said. "How long do you think it'll take to restore her?"
"That depends on how long you want to take." Mike chuckled. "If you're looking to kill some time, we could make the job last for months."
"I haven't tinkered around on a car in a long time, but I think it might do me good to get some grease under my fingernails while I'm killing time."
Sheila pretended not to notice Caleb when he arrived. He was the last person on earth she wanted to see—especially the morning after his big night with Gwyn Baker. She should have known that Gwyn would make a beeline straight to Caleb and that he, being the man he was, would take her up on what she was offering. It wasn't that Sheila disliked Gwyn. Despite the fact that their sons were good friends, she really didn't know Devin's mother all that well. Except by reputation, of course. Everyone in Crooked Oak knew that most men found the pretty, young divorcee irresistible and that people in general considered her irresponsible. Devin spent more time with his aunt than he did his mother. Yeah, Gwyn was just the type of woman Caleb needed—a fun-loving girl who wasn't looking for more than a good time.
"Hey," Caleb called when he entered the garage. "Where's Mike? He's supposed to have an old Firebird waiting here for me."
"Mike took the tow truck out," Sheila said, lifting her gaze from the order form on the desk in front of her. "There was a two-car wreck out on Willow Lane. He'll probably be busy for a couple of hours."
"Anybody hurt?" Caleb asked.
"Nothing serious."
How could one man be so gorgeous? Sheila mused. It just wasn't fair that Caleb was so beautiful and yet at the same time so very masculine. And it certainly wasn't fair that a plain girl like her had fallen head over heels in love with the handsomest man on earth twelve years ago.
"So, should I hang around and wait on Mike, or should I come back later?" Caleb asked, peering over the top of her computer.
"Suit yourself," she replied. "The Firebird is parked out back, so if you'd like to take a look, go right ahead. But if you'd prefer to come back when Mike's here, then you can probably catch Gwyn on her lunch break over at Amber's Beauty Bar."
"Amber's Beauty Bar. Hmm. Yeah, I think she mentioned she'd be free around noon." Caleb noted the slight flush on Sheila's cheeks and wondered if he had mistaken the sharp edge to her voice
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