We walk back to my truck and lay our tools on the bed. My brother fishes around in the cooler until he retrieves a bottle of water. Popping it open, he takes a long, leisurely swig before wiping his mouth with his shirt.
“You just left a smear of black shit across your face,” I say, nodding towards the line going from one cheek to the other ear.
“Yeah, well, I gotta get a shower anyway.”
The sun barely streams over the tops of the trees lining the back of Nana’s property. Deep purples and pumpkin oranges streak the sky as a flock of birds fly into the evergreens. I’m not sure what’s written on my face, but when I turn to look at Machlan, he’s smiling.
“What?” I ask, unlatching the toolbox bolted into the top of the bed of my truck.
“What’s on your mind tonight, Walker?”
“Nothin’.”
“I’m gonna have to call you out on that bullshit.”
Resting my forearms on the bed, I look at him like he’s a dumbass. Of course there’s a lot of shit on my mind. Even if I could stop thinking about Sienna, my throbbing hand would remind me every time I go to move it. But I don’t want to talk to him about that. “Now how in the world do you know what’s on my mind?”
“Because I’m your brother. I know you almost as well as I know myself.”
“You don’t know shit,” I tell him, picking up the hammer and screwdrivers and tossing them into the toolbox. They clamor as they land on top of a variety of other tools.
“So I can assume everything Peck said is false?” he asks.
“Don’t we always assume everything he says is false?”
“Not everything,” he insists. “Sometimes he’s right.”
“Like when?” I snort.
“Like when he said I should dump Janette because she was a whore.”
“I fucking told you that too. Peck doesn’t get credit for that when the whole damn town knew it.”
“Easy there, tiger,” Machlan says, wagging a finger my way. “Let’s not start talking about our history of whores. I believe you have—”
“Enough.” Flashing him a warning glance, I slam the toolbox closed. In typical brotherly fashion, he laughs again. Louder this time. More pointed this time. “Machlan, I think it’s time to call it a night.”
“I think we’re just getting started.”
“See,” I say, swinging the truck door open as my jaw sets in place, “this is where you’re wrong. You never know when to shut the fuck up.”
“No, I think I always know when you want to avoid shit and I force you to think about it.”
“You don’t force me to do anything besides want to punch your face in.”
“Well, by the look of Tommy’s face the other night, your skills seem to be pretty sharp. You might even be able to hang with me for a second or two.” He opens the passenger side door and looks at me through the cab. “You really like her, don’t you?”
“Who?” I deadpan.
“Come on, Walk.”
“You want to say goodbye to Nana or just get out of here?” I ask, deflecting his stupid fucking question.
Climbing into the cab, I ignore my brother as he takes his seat and buckles his seatbelt. I usually give him a hard time about strapping in like a good little citizen, but I let it slide this time. I simply don’t have the energy to rile him up. I expended every ounce of energy I could muster today trying to seem like I wasn’t paying attention to Sienna.
If it wasn’t her ass in those shorts as she stood on a chair and washed the windows, it was the way she chewed on her bottom lip as she sorted invoices. If I got really lucky, her laugh would float into the garage bay and I’d fight a hard-on while changing someone’s oil.
Sienna is organized. My customers love her. She got Standski to get parts to us within an hour all week. I can’t find a reason to dislike her no matter how hard I try.
The logical, maybe even compassionate, side of me wants to tell her to call it even. That’s what I should do. That’s the smart option for both of us.
The stronger side of me, the one that’s laced with testosterone, wants me to give Peck the day off, lock the doors to Crank, and just strip her down on the office desk. I’d start at her sweet lips, kissing my way down to her—
“You still here?” Machlan asks, nudging me in the side. “I mean, I’m happy to sit here all night, but let me know so I can get comfortable.”
Rolling my eyes, I start up the truck and pull down Nana’s lane.
“Guess that settles that,” he mumbles as we pass her house. “So, Peck says Sienna is super hot, which I already knew, but he also said she—”