“Connor Christian Casey, did you tell Mrs. Holloway that her car would be ready by end of day today?” Peggy called over the country music blasting through the auto shop.

Shit. Connor hoped the pit he was in beneath the 1995 Honda Civic would hide him if he kept quiet. He froze with his hand on the end of the wrench. The garage had been owned by the Marshall family since the fifties. Unfortunately, the Marshall family was better at making children than money, and updates to the shop tended to be sporadic and piecemeal. They still had an old pneumatic lift stationed over a pit. Since the lift had a tendency to fail whenever someone used the air gun, Connor felt safer in the pit with the car on solid ground than standing below two tons of questionably-supported automobile.

Besides, working in the pit made him feel like a real old-school mechanic, before everything had been computerized and you needed a freaking computer-science degree to adjust the fuel mixture. Oddly enough, a high school diploma with a solid B average and years as an 0311 in the Marines shooting rifles didn’t qualify you for many civilian jobs. You’d think being a Staff Sergeant would translate to some kind of management. You’d think wrong, especially in a small town like Hidden Creek.

Maybe Peggy would get distracted by something and forget she had been looking for him. It had happened before.

No such luck. Her grease-stained pink work boots came into view first, and then her knees as she bent down to look under the car. “Did you?”

Connor hated it when she used her disappointed mom voice. Though if anybody was entitled to do it, it was Peggy. He’d started working for her when he was almost sixteen and almost legal to hire. She’d taught him everything he knew about cars. When he’d moved back home, she offered him a job the second he’d appeared in her doorway. He owed her everything, and he hated being the one to put that frustrated tone in her voice. He’d better answer Peggy before she dragged him out by his hair.

“Connor, I know you’re under there. Get your scrawny ass up here.”

“Yes ma’am, and my ass is not scrawny,” Connor objected, hauling himself out of the pit, collecting more grease stains on his blue coveralls.

Peggy backed up to let him get out. She ran her hand through her steel-gray hair, making it stand up in wild spikes even more than it usually did. At almost six feet tall, she could look Connor in the eye, and she often did.

Like now. “Was that yes ma’am, I’m coming up or yes ma’am, I was an idiot and told someone I could work a miracle?”

“Both?” Connor tried his best smile on her. Apparently, it wasn’t as effective at twenty-eight as it had been at sixteen.

She shook her head and rested her hands on her hips. “Why? You know we’re swamped here. And the dang AXOD tranny on that Taurus is going to take you two, three hours minimum.”

Yeah, he knew. And he had to pick up Sean from weight training and Fiona from the friend’s house she went to after school. Micah and Benji were in the after-school program, and the teachers really hated it when people were late picking up their kids.

He absently rubbed the wrench with a clean rag as he tried to work out the logistics of the rest of his day. He had ten hours of work to fit into a four-hour timespan. Maybe he could bring one of the cars home and get some work done on it there. He could supervise the kids’ homework at the same time. Maybe even teach Sean something about cars. He’d be driving soon, God willing, and given the cars they’d be able to afford, he’d better get good at fixing at least the basics.

“Connor,” Peggy said, waving her hand in front of his face. “Are you in there?”

He blinked. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Just trying to figure out timing.”

She shook her head. “Did you even eat anything today?”

He tried to remember. He’d grabbed a McMuffin on his way in after dropping Micah and Benji at their school. But since that? All he could remember was a parade of cups of the excellent coffee Peggy kept in the shop for the workers. “I had a McMuffin on the way. Does that count?”

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Um… one… thirty?” It had been about noon last time he’d checked.

“Close. It’s two forty-five, and I’ve got a sub with your name on it in the office.” She brushed dirt off his shoulders as if it would make a difference in his appearance.

“Crap. Really? I’m going to be late picking up the kids.” He needed a clone.

Peggy stopped him as he started stripping off his coveralls. “Why don’t you call Beau?”

“What? Why?”

“He lives at your house, right? He’s headed there anyway. For all you know, he’s there right now.”

She was right. “Yeah, but still. I can’t ask him to do that. They’re not his responsibility.”

“Even you can’t be in two places at once. You’ve been talking about maybe paying someone to do some of the after-school pickup and stay with the kids until you get home anyway. Why not Beau?”

“Because he’s not a babysitter or my personal assistant. He’s just helping me with the repairs. Besides he’s probably got practice or a game or something. He’s really busy.” The guy never did seem to rest.

“I’m sure he is. I’m not telling you to turn him into a nanny, just you’re in a bind today, why not at least text him? The worst he can say is no.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And from all you’ve said about him over the last week, he seems like a great guy. I doubt he’d mind.”

“What ‘all I’ve said’? I barely talked about him.” He didn’t like the way Peggy’s eyebrows lifted. “What? I haven’t.” Damn it, he knew she respected him, but she still had a way of making him feel like a teenager.

“Let’s see,” She leaned against the big tool chest separating the two bays. “So far we know he is stronger than he looks, which is saying something, and can lift all the heavy things at once.” Her eyes got wide and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

He rolled his eyes at her. “Shut up.”

“And that he is scary smart and seems to know a little bit about everything.”

Well, that part was true. And he was strong. “It’s crazy,” Connor said. “Anything the kids bring up, he knows something about. I’ve had better talks with him about the war while we were caulking a tub than I’ve had with guys who were over there with me.”

“Uh-huh. Text him.”

“Fine.” Connor pulled out his phone. Hey, are you busy? “Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Want a sandwich? It’s from the Matco guy trying to get me to buy some more expensive tools I don’t need. As if I would touch his stuff with a ten-foot pole. But free food is free food, even if his cheap ass only did spring for Subway.”

“Sure.” His phone buzzed as he followed Peggy to the office. He read and responded as he walk, avoiding falling in the pit or tripping over car parts by habit born of long years of practice. He was a little rusty, but it was amazing how quickly his body had remembered what to do at the shop.

Not too busy, what’s up? Beau had responded.

If it’s not too much trouble, could you pick up a kid or two for me? I lost track of time. He sat in the old leather rolling chair Peggy kept near her desk, and she handed him a paper-wrapped sandwich.

They went into the small front office. “Chips or a cookie?” she asked.

“Both?” She tossed a bag of chips and an over-sized chocolate chip cookie at him.

Beau: Yeah, no problem. I’m at the house anyway. Where and when?

Connor: I’ll call.

Beau: K

“You were right,” Connor admitted. “He was at the house, and he said no problem.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Peggy grinned around the straw in her mouth.

“No. And shut up.” Man, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. The sandwich disappeared in four bites. He should probably add tuna to the grocery list. Fiona had been asking for their mom’s tuna casserole for months.

He’d tried to remember how she had made it for him when he was little, but the one time he tried it, he must have forgotten something because his tasted like trash.

He would give the recipe he found on the Internet a try. It promised delicious results. The comments said that if you made it without the canned soup, it tasted better. He wasn’t sure about that, as he distinctly remembered the plop of condensed soup hitting the Pyrex dish when his mom had made casserole, but he’d give it a try. They’d lived on pizza and meals from the church ladies long enough.

Peggy waved a hand in front of his face. “You there?”

Connor shook his head. “Sorry, thinking about what to make for dinner. I gotta call Beau.”

She waved a hand at him. Go on.

Beau picked up on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So what’s up? Which of the rugrats am I picking up? Tell me it’s not Sean. He’d probably die of embarrassment or something.”

Connor laughed. This was the first time they had spoken on the phone, and the warmth in Beau’s voice felt surprisingly intimate. “All of them, actually. Sorry to have to ask you, but I kind of double-booked myself.”

“I don’t know how you manage it all. I was going to ask if I could help out somehow, but I didn’t want to overstep.”

“Step away. I wasn’t sure if you were at practice or what. I feel like we keep passing like ships in the night.”

“If only we were meeting in the night.” Beau’s voice dropped, and Connor hoped Peggy hadn’t overheard. He swiveled his chair away from Peggy, trying to make it look natural. “You’d think it would be easier to score with a hot guy when he lives twenty-five feet away.”

You’d think. They hadn’t had any real time alone together the entire week. Half the time, their schedules had them working on the house alone. And the kids were always around. Always.

He’d tried sneaking out to the trailer at night, but the stress of listening for someone to wake up was a real mood-killer. Besides, Sean never seemed to go to sleep. The kid had made it his life’s mission to never leave Connor and Beau alone.

Connor had been tempted to ask Peggy for the day off, but it felt rude to leave her short-handed so he could get laid.

“If only,” Connor said in place of what he really wanted to say. He wanted to talk Beau off over the phone, just to hear him come. “We should try to coordinate our schedules a little bit.”

“Not a bad idea,” Beau agreed. “We can figure out rides and stuff.”

“No, that’s okay. I just need help today.”

Peggy scoffed at the same time Beau did.

“Dude, I've watched you running yourself ragged all week. Let me help. What else do I have to do? Hanging with you and the kids is the most fun I’ve had since I hit Texas. I feel like I should be paying you.”

Connor smiled. Having Beau around had made this his best week since coming back to Texas, as well. “Great. Let me give you the details, and I’ll call the school at let them know you’re coming. Bring an ID.”

“You got it.”

Connor gave him a quick rundown of the time frame, promised to text him addresses, and then had a quick discussion about what they should do for dinner. Beau was lobbying for meatloaf, but the kids had requested hamburgers.

“It’s practically the same thing,” Beau argued.

“Then put on your big-boy panties and eat burgers without complaining.” He shook his head and grinned. It was like having a fifth kid sometimes. “You can pick dessert.”

“Yes!”

Connor could picture Beau’s fist pump. It was the same one he did when they finished a repair. Even a successful trip to Home Depot required a high five. “You’re a child,” he said.

“Come to my trailer tonight, and I’ll show you I’m all man, baby.”

Connor groaned. “I’m going to kill you.”

Beau laughed loudly. “Well, wait until after I pick up the kids.”

“Deal.”

Connor ended the call, and then texted Beau the info. When he looked up, Peggy was staring at him with a huge grin on her face.

“What?”

“That was adorable. You two are adorable.”

Connor sputtered, trying to find some way to refute her statement. Two “shut ups” in one day was probably enough.

“Are you sleeping with him yet?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why not? He’s hot and single, you’re hot and single. What’s the problem?”

Connor sighed and slumped down into the worn leather chair that was easily twice as old as he was. It would be kind of nice to have someone to talk to about Beau. He’d been gone so long, he didn’t really have any friends left in town; not like he’d had a lot to start with. The kids he’d hung out with in high school weren’t friends so much as accomplices.

“The problem is not lack of wanting to,” he admitted. “It’s having four kids around all the time and not one second of privacy.”

“Get a sitter? Val and I would watch them, you know that.”

“And then what? Go to a hotel?”

Peggy shrugged. “There are worse ideas. How do you think parents do it?”

“I don’t want to think about parents doing it.” Connor finished his soda with a loud slurp, then balled up the sandwich wrapper and tossed in the small garbage pail on the other side of the room. “Two points,” he called when it dropped in neatly. “Can we talk about something other than my lack of a love life now?”

Peggy tossed her wrapper into the pail just as neatly. “Sure. Let’s talk about what were you thinking when you told Mrs. Halloway we could give her this turnaround?”

Connor spread his hands wide. “I don’t know. I felt bad. The poor woman had to put up with me in her seventh-grade class. Remember me at thirteen? I gotta make it up to her somehow.”

He had been a terror then. Hormonal, angry, scared, and just beginning to realize he might be one of those family-destroying gay boys. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay late and get it fixed up.” No need to rush home now that Beau was there.

“No, you won’t,” Peggy said. “You’ll go home and hang out with your family and eat burgers and dessert with your man and feel all the delicious, unsatisfied sexual tension. I’ll call Mrs. Holloway and give her a realistic estimate and if she doesn’t like it, she can take her car somewhere else.”

“He’s not my man.” Connor hadn’t had a steady thing since the last guy he thought he might have a shot with dropped him when Connor got promoted above him. Not like it was ever easy dating in the military.

“Your friend with benefits then. Whatever. Go be with him.”

“Mrs. Holloway is going to think I’m either a liar or an idiot.” He hated letting people down.

“Don’t worry,” Peggy repeated. “I’ll make it about me. After all, isn’t everything?”

The bell above the door tinkled as a middle-aged woman with a deep tan and big hair pushed her way inside. “Howdy. Got a problem with my truck. I was hopin’ you could take a look at it?”

“No problem,” Peggy said, standing up. “Con, go help this woman with her truck while I make a phone call.”

“You got it, Peggy. And thanks.”

She waved him away.