a hot guy? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it a million times before. They’d go out, eat, talk, and get to know one another a little, maybe a little touchy feely action, and that would be it. She’d have a nice evening out, and full stomach and she would move on with her life. As her father would tell her, she was making a mountain out of a molehill.
She glanced at the clock. She had almost seven hours to kill before he showed up. Determined not to make a big deal out of it, Patti pulled herself from the chair and made her way calmly to her bedroom to change into her grease-stained shorts and tank top.
***
“Dag nabbit!” Patti shouted. She slid out from under the car, using her feet to guide her, and treaded back into the garage. The wrench fell back into the toolbox with a loud, metallic clang. Pinching her injured finger, she held up her hand to inspect the damage.
It wasn’t as horrible as she thought it’d be. There was no bone showing or blood gushing, but there was a faint, feathered line marring the pink of her nail bed where it had bent back. “Damn, that’s gonna suck,” she muttered to herself. But not as bad as when Kyle showed up at her door earlier that afternoon.
Shortly after hanging up with Jon, there was a knock at the door. She’d opened it to find a very annoyed Kyle. He’d shoved past her, heading directly for the bedroom where he’d stored the majority of his belongings, but she’d already beaten him to it.
Retrieving a black canvass duffle bag from the hall closet, she dropped it on the floor in front of the open door and called out to him. The memory still tickled her pink. “Hey, looking for this?”
“You already packed my stuff?” Kyle asked, gearing up for one of his hissy fits. “Great, what’d you do, cut holes in all my shirts? Dump a gallon of bleach on everything?”
“I wish,” Patti had told him candidly, “but I didn’t feel like expending that much energy on worthless bullshit. I think I’ve done enough of that over the past eight months.” She looked him up and down meaningfully. Then, as he walked back toward her to retrieve the bag, Patti pulled her leg back and sent it sailing clear off the porch. “I suggest you follow suit before the same thing happens to your ass,” she told him, then smiled and waved as he stomped out the door, cursing up a storm.
Asshole .
Besides a pretty face and a hot body, what had she ever seen in him?
It was all water under the bridge now, though, and Patti had far more important and interesting things to occupy herself.
With her hands on her hips, Patti turned to assess her once pristine car. She’d ordered the parts and a few tools to help her repair the damage from the accident. They wouldn’t be delivered until sometime tomorrow, so she’d decided to keep herself busy by cleaning the spark plugs, changing out the filters, and giving her baby an oil change. A happy car meant a happy driver. Still, neither of them would be truly happy until she’d restored it to perfect condition, and that was going to take some time.
She could have just handed it over to a n auto body repair tech and let them take care of it, but she liked working with her hands. Plus, she couldn’t shake the memory of her father telling her to never let another person fiddle around under the hood. That went double for the body. Come to think of it, he’d probably meant that in more ways than one.
Still, Patti held fast to the idea that she and her father, having built most of the car with their bare hands, were the only two people in the world who really knew how it worked. Now that he was gone, the responsibility was hers alone, and she refused to tarnish his memory by letting someone else tinker around with it. If anyone were going to screw it up, it would be her.
After her date tonight, she decided that the week ahead would be designated to restoring the car. She’d already decided to opt out of any gathering her friends
She glanced at the clock. She had almost seven hours to kill before he showed up. Determined not to make a big deal out of it, Patti pulled herself from the chair and made her way calmly to her bedroom to change into her grease-stained shorts and tank top.
***
“Dag nabbit!” Patti shouted. She slid out from under the car, using her feet to guide her, and treaded back into the garage. The wrench fell back into the toolbox with a loud, metallic clang. Pinching her injured finger, she held up her hand to inspect the damage.
It wasn’t as horrible as she thought it’d be. There was no bone showing or blood gushing, but there was a faint, feathered line marring the pink of her nail bed where it had bent back. “Damn, that’s gonna suck,” she muttered to herself. But not as bad as when Kyle showed up at her door earlier that afternoon.
Shortly after hanging up with Jon, there was a knock at the door. She’d opened it to find a very annoyed Kyle. He’d shoved past her, heading directly for the bedroom where he’d stored the majority of his belongings, but she’d already beaten him to it.
Retrieving a black canvass duffle bag from the hall closet, she dropped it on the floor in front of the open door and called out to him. The memory still tickled her pink. “Hey, looking for this?”
“You already packed my stuff?” Kyle asked, gearing up for one of his hissy fits. “Great, what’d you do, cut holes in all my shirts? Dump a gallon of bleach on everything?”
“I wish,” Patti had told him candidly, “but I didn’t feel like expending that much energy on worthless bullshit. I think I’ve done enough of that over the past eight months.” She looked him up and down meaningfully. Then, as he walked back toward her to retrieve the bag, Patti pulled her leg back and sent it sailing clear off the porch. “I suggest you follow suit before the same thing happens to your ass,” she told him, then smiled and waved as he stomped out the door, cursing up a storm.
Asshole .
Besides a pretty face and a hot body, what had she ever seen in him?
It was all water under the bridge now, though, and Patti had far more important and interesting things to occupy herself.
With her hands on her hips, Patti turned to assess her once pristine car. She’d ordered the parts and a few tools to help her repair the damage from the accident. They wouldn’t be delivered until sometime tomorrow, so she’d decided to keep herself busy by cleaning the spark plugs, changing out the filters, and giving her baby an oil change. A happy car meant a happy driver. Still, neither of them would be truly happy until she’d restored it to perfect condition, and that was going to take some time.
She could have just handed it over to a n auto body repair tech and let them take care of it, but she liked working with her hands. Plus, she couldn’t shake the memory of her father telling her to never let another person fiddle around under the hood. That went double for the body. Come to think of it, he’d probably meant that in more ways than one.
Still, Patti held fast to the idea that she and her father, having built most of the car with their bare hands, were the only two people in the world who really knew how it worked. Now that he was gone, the responsibility was hers alone, and she refused to tarnish his memory by letting someone else tinker around with it. If anyone were going to screw it up, it would be her.
After her date tonight, she decided that the week ahead would be designated to restoring the car. She’d already decided to opt out of any gathering her friends
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