“Oh my God,” I cried, pulling away from Logan as much as I could with his arms still around me. “That’s just amazing news. You’re a total lifesaver, Jarrod. In fact, I’m going to get you a whole box of them so that every time you eat one, you remember how awesome you are. A lifesaver.” Then, looking at my parents, I asked, “Isn’t he fabulous? He’s a—”
“Lifesaver,” Logan said dryly. “Yeah, we got that, baby.”
Rubbing my lips together, I looked at Mom for help, whose shoulders were shaking enough to move Dad. Then again, a quick look at him showed that was probably because he was laughing, too.
And out of the corner of my eye, I could see that pretty much everyone was doing the same thing.
Fuck’s sake, Bexley.
Changing my expression to plead with her to save me, I stared Mom down. Did she help me? Did she hell. The woman just mouthed, smoothly done.
So, clearing my throat, I focused back on Jarrod, managing to only have a brain fart for ten seconds this time. That didn’t mean I was home clear, though. No, my brain kicked in and told me to make arrangements for the vehicle to be fixed. It told me to ask questions about it and do adult shit like that. But then I started second-guessing all of it.
When you’re in an accident, and a hot guy says he’ll fix it, do you shake his hand as you make arrangements?
Was it bad form to shake his hand?
If the answer to the previous question was yes—was I supposed to hug him?
Would I survive making contact with him?
Did he have deliciously rough hands from his job?
How would they compare to his brothers’ hands?
What—
A small cough interrupted my panicked brain interrogation. “Is it safe to drive to Ren’s?” Logan asked, sounding a mixture of amused and pissed.
How could anyone be two polar opposite emotions?
“Yeah, it’s just the bumper, grille, and light that are damaged. I can call Cole and get him to bring out the tow truck, though, if it’s easier?”
I didn’t trust myself not to say something that didn’t come from either my stupid or my hussy sides, so I stayed mute and looked up at Logan.
“I think I’d be happier with that,” he nodded.
“And Mrs. Heath, yours is the back bumper, light, and your trunk’s dented. That’ll be easy to fix, too.”
For all of the laughter and shit she’d given me only a minute ago, Mom’s cheeks turned red, and she giggled. My mom freaking giggled. Not a normal one, but with her head down and her hand over her mouth, like a teenager.
“That’s great news, Jarrod. If you could do my bumper—” her head snapped up at the same time she shut her mouth, quick enough for her teeth to make a noise when they hit each other as she realized what she’d just said. “I mean, my bumper is yours to—” she looked up at Dad, begging him to stop her from saying anything else.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he raised an eyebrow at her. “You were saying, Lorena?”
Glancing from Jarrod to Dad and back again, Mom open and closed her mouth as she thought through what she could say that didn’t sound even slightly perverse after that.
Finally, she just shook her head. “I can’t. No matter what I say, it sounds like I’m hitting on poor Jarrod.”
“Who’s hitting on Jarrod?” someone asked, and I swear my legs went a little bit weak at the realization it was one of his brothers.
Fortunately for me, I had Logan still holding me up. Unfortunately for Mom, she didn’t, so she swooned into Bill, knocking him into Hurst.
“That good, huh?” Dad asked, smirking at her.
Then she just made it all worse by reaching into her bag and pulling out an electric fan, turning it on, and aiming it at her face.
“We should get him to join us,” Carter mused to Logan. “Can you imagine getting a call out to a woman who didn’t want to comply? We’d just send him in, and it’d be done and dusted in seconds.”