Drawn Deep (Afternoon Delight 2)

She sounded entirely too blasé. He wished he could be that relaxed but after her second disappearing act that morning, adding this to the mix was too much. “It shouldn’t happen. If you bring in a car for service, afterward it needs to run better than it did before it broke down. That’s how you keep customers.”

Brad poked his head out from under the hood. “You do realize she’s not going anywhere else to get serviced, right?”

Yet again his cheeks heated. Christ. Somehow he needed to get that under control. “That’s not the point. Every customer deserves special treatment.”

Kim lifted a brow. “Way to brownnose the boss.”

“That’s not why—I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, and it’s about to pay off. Well, in exceptional roast beef if nothing else.” Brad grinned and exchanged his wrench for a smaller one. “What do you say about coming over for dinner? Sara would love to have you. You know I’ve been threatening to have you over for a while,” he added over Michael’s halfhearted protests. “Tonight’s as good a night as any.”

“No, it absolutely is not. Tonight you’re going to tell me about…” She glanced at Michael and pursed her lips before returning her gaze to her brother. “You know, the thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear about for days. If you make me wait any longer, I may kill you.”

Brad laughed and reached for his own rag. Michael had long ago shoved his back in his waistband and tucked his hands in his back pockets instead. At least that way he couldn’t fist and unfist his hands while he tried to play it cool in front of Kim.

Lost cause all the way around.

“No one said you had to wait any longer. Michael can hear our news. You know shop family is family.”

“Listen, I appreciate the invitation—”

“No, real family comes first when you’re about to upend my world and act like it’s all going to be roses for me like it is for you.” The instant the words were out, she shut her eyes and shook her head. “No. That came out wrong. God, I’m sorry.” She huffed out a breath and flicked a glance at Michael. “If he wants you at dinner, come to dinner.”

“That easy, huh?” Michael asked quietly.

“That easy.” She tore her gaze from his and focused on her brother. “You know I’m happy for you, whatever it is. I adore you both, you know that.”

“I do.” Brad grinned and ruffled Kim’s hair as if she were the kid sibling rather than the other way around. “You’re just pulling a Kim. Same thing since childhood, Kiminator. Always had to try to steal my thunder and make it your show.”

Michael watched her stagger under the blow, though she didn’t react visibly. How still she became said it all. Even her breathing slowed.

“Yeah. That’s me. Thunder stealer.”

It didn’t matter that Michael didn’t know what they were talking about. All he knew was that he had to staunch the bleeding.

He took a step forward and she shot him a sharp, incredulous look. “Michael,” she said in an undertone, some kind of warning he didn’t understand and didn’t care to obey. She wasn’t involved with him, fine, but that didn’t mean he’d stand idly by and let anyone hurt her—even her brother.

Brad, however, appeared oblivious to the undercurrents in the room. “So it’s settled. Michael will stop over for dinner and take a look at your car if you’ll give him another shot under your hood.”

“Sure.” Michael wasn’t touching that one with an eight-inch pole. She’d made her opinion on that score brutally clear that morning when she’d walked out of his place without a goodbye.

“Sure? Just sure, all sweet and natural.” She shook her head. “Fine. Look under my car hood,” she enunciated so distinctly that Michael couldn’t hold back a grin. “And that’s all,” she mouthed as she passed him, brushing against him in a manner similar to that first night after Rand’s class.

Only a handful of nights ago. How did lives change in so few hours when so many weeks and months went by with no change at all?

That same question played on a continuous loop in his head throughout the afternoon. It echoed in his thoughts while he dressed in casual trousers and a shirt and tie then ventured out to the local liquor store to buy yet another bottle of wine. He deliberately bought the one he’d purchased yesterday, hoping she’d recognize the flavor. If that triggered any other memories, even better.

He grimaced, reliving that morning yet again. Preferably she’d get so wrapped up in the good stuff—the very good stuff—she’d forget his lies.

Sometimes all a guy had was hope.

He rang the bell and stepped back to study the wide front porch covered in a fresh layer of new snow. It was a cozy place, so much different than Roch’s. He still didn’t fully think of it as his own, though Roch had been gone a while. He’d tried to make it as homey as possible, bringing in another shelter cat to join Roch’s Moose, and adding mementoes and other things that reminded him of his family, but there was only so mu

ch he could do. Museum-sized houses were hard to make homes.

And then there was the fact he lived alone. He’d grown up sardine-crammed into an apartment that would’ve fit four comfortably. Eleven and then ten living there after his dad died made the place almost uninhabitable yet somehow they’d made do. Going from there to Roch’s had been a wonderful respite—at first. Then the noises of the house settling had started to get to him. He’d had the fire running all the time back then, even in summer, just to have some sound. Roch’s collection of classic music had helped too. He’d learned to appreciate Elvis and Sammy Davis Jr. and Frank.

He shifted on the mat as footsteps approached on the other side of the door. Yeah, Frank would always hold a special spot in his heart.