Dirty Thoughts (12 page)

Chapter Seventeen

C
AL PARKED HIS
truck behind the garage on Monday morning and turned to look at Ash. The kid was staring out of the window at the Payton and Sons building.

“Kid.”

Asher turned to him, biting his lip.

“My dad’s name is Jack. And he’s . . . a little scary, okay? He’s pretty much a miserable bastard, but he means well. Kind of.”

Asher looked even more uncertain now. Cal sighed. “Just do what I say and don’t expect any warm fuzzies from the guy, all right? He barely tolerates us, and we’re his kids.” Cal opened up the door of the truck.

“Is he gonna hate me?” Asher’s voice was weak.

Cal froze on his way out of the truck. “What?”

“Is he gonna”—Asher fidgeted with his hands in his lap—“resent me or something?”

Cal blew out a breath. “Nah, kid, he’s not going to hate you or resent you. But you’re going to remind him of his ex-wife, and that’s not going to go well. It’s not about you, though. You just gotta remember that, okay? Don’t take it personal.”

Asher looked a little more confident at that. “Okay.”

“All right, then. Let’s head in.”

Cal walked ahead of Asher. The shop hadn’t opened for business yet, but Brent and Jack were inside, getting the place set up.

Last night, Brent had called Jack to give him a heads-up. Cal had figured that was the best way to handle the situation. Of course, Jack had only grunted into the phone at the news and hung up on Brent. So . . . there was that. But at least they weren’t springing this Max-like kid on their father.

Cal joked about his dad dying, but he didn’t actually want it to happen.

He looked over his shoulder. Asher walked slowly, his head down, eyes on his bright green Converses. The kid hadn’t packed many clothes, but he still looked put together as hell, with his hair doing that flip thing. His father might flip more at the kid’s clothes than his genes.

Brent greeted them at the door and ruffled Asher’s hair. The kid looked a little miffed but seemed to appreciate the supportive gesture for what it was.

Cal heard his father’s boots first and looked up. Jack rounded a car and stood in front of Asher, taking him in.

To Asher’s credit, the kid didn’t back down. He stood firm and waited silently.

Finally, Cal’s dad stuck out his big, callused hand. “I’m Jack.”

Asher shook it. “Asher.”

Jack grunted, squinting his eyes. There was silence for a full thirty seconds before he talked again. “Don’t get in the way around here. I don’t want you getting hurt, because then my insurance rates will go up.” And then he turned around and walked away.

Brent placed his hands on his hips and pulled down his lips, tilting his head. “Huh. That was actually decent for Jack.”

“Agreed,” Cal said.

Asher looked at them like they were crazy.

Cal barked a laugh and clapped him in the back. “Let me show you around.”

After the short tour, they walked out to the garage to get back to work when Gabe’s voice boomed from the parking lot. “How ya doin’, guys?”

Gabe Acosta was all of five foot six, Puerto Rican, and loud as hell. Cal liked him because although he could be a little shit sometimes, he did his job and was generally fun to be around. He had a kid trailing behind him as he stepped into the garage. Well, a teenager, Cal would guess, probably around Asher’s age.

“This is my brother, Julian. He goes to Tory High School.”

Gabe and Brent talked about the new construction to the high school, but Cal was focused on the two teenagers. Julian and Asher had locked gazes, and neither was looking away. Like a game of chicken, but Cal thought there was something going on that was more than a simple teenage game. He clapped Asher on the back, who stumbled a little. “This is Asher. Long story, but he’s our half-brother. He’s in high school too. He’ll be helping us out here for a little while.”

“Cool!” Gabe said, paging through the schedule, completely oblivious to his brother’s huge blue eyes locked on Asher. “I was gonna have Julian hang around a little because he was interested in learning more about the shop.”

Asher made a small sound in his throat.

Cal wasn’t sure if this was a good idea to have these two teenagers in close proximity or a completely horrible one.

Asher stepped forward and held out his hand to the other teenager. “Hey.”

Julian’s eyes got even bigger. “Hi.”

Asher motioned to the back room. “You wanna soda or something?”

Cal shoved him a little. “Yeah, that’s a great idea. You two go get something to drink. And maybe clean up back there too. Sweep or something.”

The kids walked back together, leaving more distance than necessary between them. When Cal took his eyes off their retreating backs, he met Brent’s gaze.

Brent raised his eyebrows. Then he waggled them.

Cal snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Gabe asked.

“Your mom,” Brent retorted.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.” He turned to Cal. “Hey, uh, you got a minute?”

Cal glanced around. Their father was in the far bay, bent over the hood of an SUV, and Brent had gone into the office. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Well, I just bought a ’95 Harley from a friend of mine. I need to get it checked out. I think it’s all right, but it doesn’t ride real smooth. Anyway, you got time?”

Cal wished he had time to work on it right now. “Can you give me a week or two? Asher’s with me now, so that’s keeping me kind of busy. Are you in a hurry?”

Gabe waved his hand. “Nah, man, that’s cool. Whenever. Just let me know, and I’ll bring it over.”

“Wish I could work on it here in the shop, but . . . ” He gestured toward Jack.

Gabe grimaced. “There’s no one in town that I trust other than you, so it sucks like hell that Jack won’t think about expanding.”

Cal shrugged. “I’m working on it. Anyway, I’ll let you know.”

Julian and Asher walked out of the back room, closer together this time, shoulders brushing.

Asher’s cell phone was in his hand, and he slipped it back into his pants.

“So it’s cool if I bring Julian around?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah, no problem,” Cal said. “We can always use some help.”

When Gabe and Julian left a half hour later, Cal caught Asher peering around the opening of the garage, watching their truck drive away.

Chapter Eighteen

J
ENNA GLANCED AT
the container on the passenger seat of her car and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

She’d put this off all week, but it was Saturday; no more excuses. She’d promised Asher granola bars, and so she must deliver granola bars. He’d called her earlier in the week to chat, and she said she’d swing by over the weekend.

How was it possible to both dread and crave something at the same time? She didn’t know, but it certainly was possible, because there was no other way to describe the churning of her gut, sweaty palms, and lightheadedness at the thought of seeing Cal again.

During the workday this past week, she’d been okay because her brain was busy. But once she got home, all bets were off. She wondered what Cal and Asher were eating for dinner; she wondered how they were getting along. This was territory Cal had been avoiding; it was the reason they didn’t have a future. Yet he’d taken the kid in despite his vow of solitude.

When Jenna lay alone in bed, she remembered the heat of Cal’s body, the rasp of his callused palms on her skin, the sound of his whispered
Sunshine
in her ear. It’d been one freaking night, and he’d ruined her. Oh hell, who was she kidding? He’d ruined her long ago. She’d never been fixed.

She pulled into Cal’s driveway, and with one look at what was going on in said driveway, she almost turned back around.

Cal must have heard her car coming, because he stood with one arm braced on the side of his parked truck, the other on his hip. He wore a pair of jeans and boots, and that was it. That was
freaking
it. Sweat glistened on his bare chest, his jaw covered in a five-o’clock shadow, his posture relaxed. Jenna was about two seconds away from throwing her car in reverse and peeling rubber to get as far away from the six feet of male temptation as she could.

Cal had never been vain. He wore his hair short so he didn’t have to mess with it. If he had stubble, it was because he didn’t feel like shaving. And his muscles were from labor. He wore it all with an unassuming confidence that was ridiculously sexy.

The damn man.

If the single ladies in town knew he was out here in the middle of nowhere, working on his truck, shirtless, he’d be able to sell the real estate around his house for millions.

He watched her with those light eyes as she parked behind his truck and stepped out of her car. She shut the door and leaned against it, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a simple cotton sundress and sandals, and as his gaze dipped down her body and back up, she wished she’d worn more clothes. Like a parka. Anything to prevent seeing that spark of heat that was now in his eyes.

He didn’t talk, so finally she straightened and took a step toward him. She gestured toward her car, where the container of granola sat on the passenger seat. “I brought some granola bars for Asher, like I promised.”

His gaze flicked to her car and then back to her. “Appreciate that.”

She cocked her head. “Is he here?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, so the muscles in his biceps and forearms flexed. “Nah, he’s with a friend.”

“A friend? Here? Wow, he moved fast.”

Cal chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “You know the kid I mentioned? Who works for us?”

“Yeah.”

“His name is Gabe, and he’s got a younger brother, Julian. He and Asher met at the garage and seemed to . . . uh . . . hit it off, I guess.”

“Well, that’s really great. Asher doing okay, then?”

“He’s getting settled. He said he likes it here, that it’s quiet. He and Brent get along real well. I guess because Brent’s still basically a fifteen-year-old kid.”

Jenna smiled. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

Cal looked away, squinting into the sun. Jenna stared down at her painted toenails. Her car’s engine dinged. A bird chirped. How much more awkward could this be?
Just give him the damn granola and leave, Jenna,
she told herself. But instead, she stood there, unable to get her feet to move. Cal didn’t seem eager to do it either. She wondered how long they could stand five feet from each other without making eye contact.

She glanced up, noting the hood of his truck was up. “Something wrong with it?”

“Huh?” He finally met her gaze, brows drawn in.

She gestured to his truck’s hood, and he glanced behind his shoulder before turning back to her. “Ah, no, nothing’s wrong. I don’t drive it much in the summer. Usually ride my bike. But with Asher . . . I wanted to make sure everything was okay with it, now that I know he’ll be in it with me.”

Did he even listen to himself speak? He was spending his Saturday off from his job of fixing vehicles
to fix his own vehicle
to ensure Asher rode in something safe. Her throat tightened and her eyes stung. God, if only Cal could see that he had so much to give. If only he wanted to. If only he was willing to see how much he was getting back.

But he didn’t, and the sooner she got that through her thick skull, the better they’d all be.

She turned around. “I’ll just get the granola . . . ”

A truck turned down Cal’s driveway, rumbling on the stones. Three people sat inside, a man and two teenagers. The driver waved at Cal through the windshield, and then the passenger door opened. Asher hopped down, leaned back inside to say something, and then shut the door behind him.

The truck made a sloppy three-point turn and then headed back the way it came. Asher walked toward Jenna, his smile bright. He wore a pair of red Converse, shorts, and a T-shirt. “Hey, Jenna!”

“Hey, buddy, I finally got around to bringing you the granola bars.”

“Sweet! Thanks!”

Jenna reached inside her car and handed the container to Asher, who looked at them eagerly. “Check it out, Cal.”

She turned to look at Cal, but his eyes weren’t on her or the granola; they were zeroed in on Asher, and he didn’t look happy. “What’s that on your neck?”

Asher’s head shot up, his color draining, and he clapped his hand around his throat. “What?”

Cal took a step forward, his posture stiff, head tilted. “What’s that on your neck?”

Asher’s eyes darted to Jenna, but she was confused. “Cal, what—”

“Is that a hickey?”

Asher’s mouth dropped open. “Cal—”

“You said you were going over there to play soccer with Julian and his friends.” Cal’s voice was getting louder. “So how the hell did you get a hickey?”

Jenna began to sweat. So apparently this day could get more awkward. Really, the possibilities were endless with Cal around. “Cal, how about you guys go inside—”

He turned to her. “Do you not see that on his neck?”

She squared her shoulders. “Actually, no, I didn’t notice, but I think confronting him in the driveway might be a little much.”

The front door to the house slammed, and Jenna and Cal both turned to look at it. While they’d been arguing with each other, Asher had taken the granola and run into the house.

Jenna sighed. “Cal, for God’s sake . . . ”

He speared his fingers in his hair and then ran his hands down his face. “Shit.”

“Are you sure it’s a hickey? If he was playing soccer, then maybe—”

“Asher’s gay, Jenna.”

She clamped her jaw shut and blinked. She turned around, eyeing the dust that was still settling from the truck that had just left. Then she turned back to Cal. “Okay, I think I’m missing something.”

Cal pointed in the direction that the truck had left. “I’m pretty sure Julian is too. He and Asher . . . I don’t know, there’s something there. And that’s fine; they’re friends. Whatever. But he’s known him for a week, and he comes home with a hickey?”

“I get that you’re concerned, but they’re teenage boys. I mean, think about what we did when we were teenagers.”

Cal’s face turned white. “Oh, shit.”

Jenna just barely grabbed his arm and prevented him from stomping into the house. “Cal, calm down.” He tugged in her grip but not as hard as he could. She held on, and while the tension remained in his body, he at least wasn’t currently banging and yelling on Asher’s door. “Stop. Please talk to me.”

He looked at her, eyes full of concern. “They can’t get pregnant, so I guess that’s a good thing. But there’s . . . other stuff, right? He needs to be safe. And I’ve only known Julian for a week. I don’t know what kind of kid he is or if he’ll hurt Asher, and—”

“Cal—”

“Isn’t there a PFLAP thing I can join? I need to Google that.”

“Pretty sure you mean PFLAG—”

“And if he breathes one word about River’s Edge, I’m going to lose my fucking mind—”

“Cal,
shut up
!”

He shut up, and Jenna blew out a breath, tired of bracing herself to keep Cal from running into the house. She didn’t know anything more about this than Cal did. Hell, when they were teenagers, they couldn’t wait to get alone. And they’d been so in love, so quickly, it hadn’t taken long before Cal was buying the value pack of condoms to keep in his truck.

God, those were the days.

Jenna shook her head. “Can I talk to him? Please?”

Cal looked at her, biting his lip.

“Do you trust me?” she asked softly.

Cal nodded. When she let go of his arm, he stayed standing.

“Why don’t you smoke a cigarette and calm down?” she said over her shoulder.

“I quit,” he grumbled.

She stumbled and held her arms out for balance. Slowly, she turned around. “What did you say?”

He pointed to a flesh-colored patch on his arm she hadn’t noticed earlier. “I’m doing this to help me quit. Got ’em at the grocery store the other day.”

He quit.
Quit.
He’d smoked since he was sixteen. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Why did you quit now?”

He shrugged and kicked a stone with the toe of his boot. “Felt like it was time.”

She didn’t know what else to say. She settled on, “Well, I’m glad,” and then continued walking into the house to talk to Asher.

S
O MAYBE HE’D
overreacted.

Just a little.

As Cal stood in his driveway, wishing he had a damn cigarette, he tried to parcel it out in his head. He hadn’t been that uptight with his brothers. Was it because Asher was gay?

But that didn’t seem right either. It had nothing to do with Asher’s being a guy or being gay or anything, really. It had to do with Cal now realizing how much that first love mattered. How much it could hurt when it all went downhill.

And maybe he wanted to save Asher the heartache. He wanted to keep him in this house where nothing could make him feel unsafe or unloved.

Jenna had been inside for fifteen minutes. Cal had finished with his truck, and so he figured it was time to venture into the house. He took a deep breath and walked inside, swiping his T-shirt from the bed of his truck and pulling it over his head. Best not to face whatever was inside half-naked.

When he opened the front door, voices drifted in from the kitchen. He made his way toward it and then stopped in the doorway, eyes on Jenna and Asher. They sat at the kitchen table, eating bowls of cereal. Both looked up when he walked in. Jenna looked calm, comfortable, while Asher was clearly anxious, watching Cal.

Cal licked his lips. “Hey, kid.”

Asher blinked. “Hi.”

Cal clenched his jaw and then figured he should get this out of the way. “Sorry, uh, about that. For how I reacted.”

Asher’s smile was tentative. “It’s okay.”

“Nah, it’s really not. I acted like an asshole, and I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t an asshole—”

“I yelled—”

“At least you care.”

That shut Cal up. Fast. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. And why were his eyes hot all of a sudden? He rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger. He had to remember who had raised Asher, what the kid was used to. He took a deep breath and glanced at Jenna. Her head was bent, swirling her spoon in the milk left in her bowl. Cal turned to Asher. “I do care.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to talk about the . . . ” Cal gestured toward his own neck, all the while thinking to himself,
Please say no, please say no
.

Asher ducked his head. “I mean, if you want, but I talked to Jenna about it.”

Thank fuck for Jenna. Thank fuck. “So . . . ”

“So I’m okay . . . um . . . not talking about it again. Right now.”

The awkwardness. Cal needed a shower. “Okay, that’s fine. But I’m here if you change your mind.”

Asher smiled. “Thanks a lot.” His phone rang, the corresponding vibration rattling the table. His cheeks colored when he glanced at the display. “I . . . um . . . this is Julian.”

Cal waved him on, and Asher hopped up, answering the phone with an excited hello as he raced up the stairs.

Cal picked up Asher’s bowl and placed it in the dishwasher. When he turned around, Jenna was watching him.

He leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles. “Thanks for talking to him.”

“I didn’t mind. He’s just lonely. He left his friends when his parents moved, and then he came here. And he found a cute guy who’s into him. I think . . . a hickey isn’t such a big deal. And that’s all it was, Cal.”

He kept his eyes on his boots. “I know. I started thinking about all it leads to. More worried about his heart than his body, I guess.”

A chair scraped. Footsteps. Jenna’s shadow fell in front of him. “What do you mean?”

He couldn’t look at her, not while he said this. “I worry about him getting attached too soon and too . . . ” He scrambled for the word, wishing he’d just kept his mouth shut. “Permanently.”

She stepped closer now, enough that he could smell the sun on her skin. “Like us?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Like us.”

She didn’t speak for a long time, so long that he thought she might have left. But then her voice came softly. “You think we’re attached permanently?”

He raised his head then, even though it took monumental effort. “If we aren’t, then it shouldn’t be this hard to be around you, knowing I can’t have you.”

Her lips parted, and a small sound escaped. “That was your decision not to have me, Cal. I was willing to give this a shot. To try.”