Unsteady (The Torqued Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

As I pull up to the shop, I take in the surroundings. It’s early, maybe around seven, but the sun is peeking over the metal roof glistening like diamonds from the rain that peppered the ground. It’s a large gray building with red and white trim, two oversized doors and then two smaller ones beside it. To the right of the shop appears to be an office with windows facing the parking lot and a covered walkway around the side.

In front is a stone sign that reads Walker Automotive in stainless steel letters. Immediately I can tell whoever owns this place takes pride in keeping it looking nice.

I spot Tyler sitting on the tailgate of his Ford truck drinking coffee. I haven’t seen him since I was what, like fourteen? The gravel shifts under my feet as I make my way toward him, nerves rising inside me.

By the look on his face, I’m a sight he wants to see. “Damn girl….” He slides off the tailgate with ease, standing toe to toe with my five-foot-nine frame. “You’ve grown up.”

I shrug, burying my hands in the pocket of my jeans shorts, my eyes on my worn-out Converse sneakers. “It happens.”

Stepping closer, he touches my cheek gently. “Care to tell me what that’s about?”

Instinctively, I shy away from his touch. “Dropped a wrench when I was doing an oil change.”

He nods, waiting for me to make eye contact with him. “Uh-huh.”

He’s waiting for an explanation, and the only reason I give him one is because he got me a job. “Listen, I got into some deep shit back in Oklahoma with Ben, and I couldn’t stay there any longer.”

Eyeing me carefully, he waits. When I don’t give him anymore, he says, “Okay, so what do you need?”

“I just need a job. I don’t want anything from you but a job. Not special treatment. Just a way to make some money.”

“You got it. Like I said, I got you the job. He said it’s yours.” And then he pauses, still staring at the bruise, unwilling to let it go. “Did this Ben guy do this?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Tyler nods, dropping his head forward as he rubs the back of his neck. “You know, it’s been my experience, and those around me, a guy who is willing to leave a mark on a girl doesn’t take lightly to her leaving.”

“No, probably not.” I know what he’s implying.

“Is this going to follow you?”

“It could.”

Unfortunately, I know it’s going to follow me. As much as I would love Ben to just give up and let me go, it’s not in his nature.

“Okay, well, we’ll deal with that later. Red will be here shortly. Let’s go inside for now.”

With a deep breath, I follow him inside hoping I’m not making a mistake.

There’s a smirk on his face as he looks back over his shoulder before we enter the shop, scratching the side of his face. “You don’t have any jeans you can wear?”

“None that are clean,” I tell him.

“Well.” He chuckles lightly. “You’re going into the lion’s den here. Just be prepared for them to stare at your legs.”

I’m suddenly regretting not grabbing different clothes in my rush.

Watching a child sleep fascinates me, though watching Nova sleep is sometimes scary. The fact that she’s still alive and hasn’t dislocated anything with how violently she sleeps is one of life’s mysteries. And sleeping next to her is like sleeping next to a fucking boxing kangaroo. I can’t count how many times I’ve been drop kicked right in the junk. It’ll be a miracle if I can still father children.

“It’s time to get up,” I say, opening her blinds and letting the early morning sun in. It’s the middle of June, and the sun rises around six in the morning, which makes it nice for getting Nova up. If it’s still dark, it’s a risk going in her room because it’s like waking a bear from hibernation.

Nova groans at the sound of my voice and the light streaming inside. “But I got up yesterday.” She rolls to the right bringing her pillow over her head. “Why do I have to do it today?”

“Because you need to go to daycare.” Sitting down on the edge of her bed that’s home to about a dozen stuffed animals, I take her favorite pink teddy from her and hold it to my chest. “Daddy has to work today.” When she doesn’t say anything, I remove the pillow from her head and turn her over.

She frowns. “I
hate
daycare. Why can’t I hang out with you all day?”

“Because I can’t have you corrupted by the guys.”

She rolls her eyes and rips the bear from my hands. “Can I have a donut for breakfast?”

I scratch the short layer of hair on my chin as if I’m thinking. Nova will do just about anything for a chocolate donut. “If you get out of bed.”

Her face is cute, even with her stubborn scowl. I can see her considering her options, donut or no donut, before she lets out a sigh. The breath blows the curls that fell in her face out. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m corrupted by you.”

Very true.

“Which is why you need daycare.” A smirk plays on my lips; I love mornings like this where we’re teasing each other. “Cleanse you of all the bad.”

After five minutes of arguing, I manage to get her in the bathtub, cleaned up from the shop last night, and I’m brushing her hair, trying to make sense of the madness.

With a smirk on her face, she looks at me in the mirror. “Daddy, did you get laid last night?”

I nearly choke on my coffee I’ve just taken a drink of and set the cup on the counter as I reach for a hair tie.

I’m stalling. I honestly don’t know how to answer her question. I can’t for the life of me figure out why the hell she would ask me that.

It’s only when Nova looks up at me and asks, “What? Didn’t you have a good laid last night?” that I remember our conversation from last night.

I smile, despite my attempt to keep a straight face. “Uh, yeah. Slept great.”

I MANAGE TO get Nova ready, and her hair and teeth brushed before we stop by the coffee shop down the road. The girls at the coffee shop adore Nova and give her basically anything she wants.

“Hey, Red,” Jessie greets me as I roll down my window to order my second coffee of the morning and Nova’s donut. This Jessie girl is another one who’s always giving me openings to ask her out. Only she’s a kid too. Graduating high school this year I think. I honestly don’t know what’s with these girls. They are all around eighteen and nineteen years old and have a thing for older men. Sure they’re legal, but I’m twenty-seven for Christ’s sakes. In my mind, there is way too much wrong with that scenario.

“Mornin’ hon.” I wink at her, knowing damn well that’s probably a bad idea. The early morning rain finally stopped but still drips inside the car off the door frame and onto my arm. Her eyes immediately go to my forearm and the tattoos on it. All women stare at my tattoos. Probably trying to decipher what they are and their meaning. “Can I get an Americano and a chocolate donut for the little one?” I gesture in the backseat with a nod to Nova, who’s fully engrossed in my cell phone and the game she’s playing.

Jessie leans out the window. “Hey, Nova.”

Nova gives a nod, but doesn’t even say hi, or look up from my phone. Little shit. Laying my right hand over the back of the seat, I nudge her foot. “Don’t be a brat. At least say hi.”

Nova raises her eyes to Jessie. “Hi.” And then drops her stare back to the phone.

Jessie laughs it off, but I still feel bad. Nova has a tendency to be standoffish with women. I don’t know if this is because for the most part, the only ones she’s around are my mom and Raven. Or because she has a good bullshit detector and can tell a lot of the women she meets are trying to get to her daddy.

When I turn back to Jessie to hand her money, she’s still hanging out the window with my coffee and Nova’s donut reaching out to me; her breasts pushed up to the point her cleavage is all I see. Can’t look anywhere else at that point.

I’m not sure what to say, or do, but it’s pretty fucking obvious she did that on purpose to get me to look, and it worked.

I grab my coffee and donut and hold the twenty up. Her fingers brush mine as she takes it. “Thanks… I’ll be right back with your change,” she says, and winks back at me.

When she returns with my money, I eye her chest once more and then look out the windshield after tipping her.

I know I’m a good-looking man, and it seems being a single dad just adds to the appeal. Which I guess is the reason I have half the girls under twenty-five in Lebanon chasing me around. The thing is, I’m not overly nice or flirty to any of them. Why is it they take that as an invitation to show me their breasts?

“Daddy?”

“Yes, darlin’?” My eyes raise to the rearview mirror to Nova seated in the backseat, only she doesn’t look up.

“Do you like that girl?”

She asks me this a lot. “No, why would you ask that?”

Nova shrugs. “She seems to like you.”

“Who doesn’t like me?” I tease.

My kid doesn’t think I’m funny. “I don’t like you sometimes.”

“Like when?”

“Like when you make me go to daycare.”

And we’re back to that. Every day it’s a struggle to get Nova to daycare. She wants to spend the day at the shop with my mom and sister, and while I allow it on Fridays, we can’t do it every day because it’s a place of business and needs to stay that way. If I start letting Nova come to work with me every day, I’d never get anything done. She has a tendency to come out of the office and watch us work, which isn’t watching. It’s playing with our tools and hiding them in places that takes us days to find.

“DON’T HIT OR punch anyone today,” I tell Nova when we’re in the car outside Elle’s house. My eyes are on the house when I turn off the ignition and look at Nova standing up in the backseat as she grabs her backpack she insists on taking with her.

Her lips part in surprise as she hands me back my cell phone, her hands placed belligerently on her tiny hips. “You’re putting too much pressure on me. What if he hits me first?”

“Well then deck the little jerk.”

I probably shouldn’t be provoking her because I know what’s gonna happen. She’s going to pretend he threw the first punch. She’s sneaky like that.

Knowing it’s nearing eight, I need to get to the shop, but I also need to talk to Elle about yesterday and what the heck is going on with Nova and Kale.

Once we’re in the house, Nova jets in the direction of the Littlest Pet Shop toys she always plays with as I approach Elle, who is attempting to clean strawberry jam off a toddler’s face. “Hey, Red,” she says, standing from her kneeling position to greet me.