Chapter Eight
Jax
My phone vibrated in my pocket just as I was getting out of my car and heading into work. I hadn’t heard from Marty all day yesterday after lunch, and I figured I should leave her be. It sounded like she had a bridal emergency on her hands, and I was swamped with excess work at the shop anyway.
Pick me up at 8 tonight. I’ll shoot you the address around 5.
Oh, so Marty was going to fuse a little bit of mystery into the evening. I could get behind that.
Not going to tell me where you want to eat?
Talk to you soon, was all she wrote back.
My mind was occupied with what she could have planned when I walked into the garage. The guys were already there working on some special projects that had come in the day before, and that left all the basic maintenance and oil changes of the day to me. It was going to be a long day, and Marty would be a sight for sore eyes after it was all said and done.
“Hey there, Magic Mike!” Chip scoffed.
Jake joined in on the ragging, “Well, look who decided to show up.”
I smirked. “You bastards know I do my best work at night.”
“Funny, your girls don’t say that.”
I laughed. “Well, Mitch, at least I’m not alone jerking it every night into an old sock.”
I walked into the back room and hung up my coat before I stuffed my duffle bag into my locker. If I was going to meet up with Marty that night, that meant I had to get washed up and changed there. That wouldn’t have been too hard, since there was a small shower in the back room in case we got doused in erosive or harsh chemicals, but that also meant scrubbing my hands down with a grease remover to see if I could get them looking a little better than they did. On dance nights, I could get away with just a quick scrub; after all, those women and men in the audience weren’t looking anywhere near my hands.
But I wanted to get closer to Marty tonight. Watching her at lunch brought back all sorts of memories. Memories of the talking we did under the tree behind the football field—and of all the not-talking we did in my basement whenever she’d come home with me instead of going back to her parents’ place. I remembered exactly how soft her skin was and how sweet her tongue tasted against mine, and part of me was hoping she’d let me find out if those things were still true.
If she was still just as soft and sweet as I remembered her being.
“Hey guys, check it out: Jax is over there daydreaming about the piece of ass he’s been hanging around with.”
“Whatever, Chip.”
“Hey, man, you were the one staring at the shower when I walked in. Is she that hot? Thinking about getting in there and tugging one out?”
“Dude. Don’t yank it at work,” Mitch mumbled. “Take that shit home.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you guys have work to do?”
“Not when you’re beating your meat in the back room, we don’t,” Jake shouted. “I’m outta here; I’m not down for a sausage party.”
“Then why don’t you get your mom to beat it for me?” I sneered.
And the guys fell apart in laughter as Jake threw his wrench across the garage.
We all rode Jake hard, but that’s because he did the same. Jake was a joker through and through, and never once did he go for someone his age. Every time we saw him with a new piece of ass, he had some married, lonely cougar on his arm. Her tits would be hiked up to her chin and her skin would be pulled taut, rockin’ a suntan she’d gotten from a bed downtown, and we’d all just shake our heads before introducing ourselves as politely as we could.
We all knew Jake had mommy issues, and he had no problems flaunting the fact that he did. That was the thing about Jake: he knew his flaws, he owned up to them, and then worked them to his advantage. He’s a good-looking guy, as far as mechanics go. I tried talking him into dancing at one point; I told him many dance clubs around the area had ‘cougar nights’ where he could make some serious bank.
He doesn’t really talk about what happened with his actual mom, though. All we know is he’s been living on his own since he was fifteen. No brothers, no sisters, no grandparents or aunts or anything. Just him and whatever he could do to fend for himself. He’s a tough sonofabitch, and he always knows he has a place here.
I grabbed the rag hanging out of my locker, threw it over my shoulder and headed to my bay. I’d worn a long-sleeved black shirt to work that day, knowing full well I’d sweat myself into a coma before the day was done. But cleaning up sweat in a shower was a hell of a lot easier than grease and oil, and it was the only way I knew to keep my body clean so I wouldn’t have to do so much scrubbing.
After all, if I wanted to touch her, maybe she’d want to touch me, too.
The day went on like you would expect: the special projects got completed and were out the door, and the basic maintenance I’d fallen behind on soon started pumping out at a regular pace. Discounts were given to ornery and angry customers, but even with that dip in money coming in, we still turned a hell of a profit. We all went home with a nice chunk of change in our pockets. I was happy that I’d break even on all my bills that month, and I figured out I was only four months away from completely paying this place off.
We were going to have a massive fucking party when I finally got this damn garage paid off.
By the time I got the guys out of here and pretended to lock it, it was already 7:15. Marty had yet to send me the address, so I shot her a quick message trying to figure out what was up before I hopped into the shower. I proceeded to scrub myself down and took a scrub brush to the pads of my fingers. I’d been working with my hands since I was fourteen-years-old; they’d developed some serious callouses on them over the years from both the shop and playing guitar, and it was hard getting oil out of the crevices without one of these brushes and some citrus cleaner.
When I finally turned the shower off, it was a little past 7:30, and my phone started vibrating in my bag.
I rushed over to it, ripping my cell from the bottom, and all that flashed up on the screen was the address I was supposed to pick her up at. I cursed under my breath because it was clear across town, and in order to get there by eight, I needed to be in the car five minutes ago.
I’ll be a little late, but I’m hopping in the car now.
I threw my t-shirt and jeans on and shoved my dirty work clothes into my bag before I locked everything up for the night. I called my mom to check on her and make sure she didn’t need anything, and when she finally picked up, I could tell I’d woken her. She assured me she was fine, and I told her to call if she needed absolutely anything.
And that’s when I remembered about the deposit I needed to make at the bank.
“Shit!” I cursed as I slammed into my office.
I unlocked my desk drawer and pulled out the safe, and when I finally had it open, I ripped out the fireproof box. If I was going to pick up Marty at a decent time, she’d have to come to the bank with me. It wouldn’t be a big deal, though: I just had to stick a deposit slip into a manila envelope with my money and pop it through a secure slot on the side of the building.
I yanked my car door open, pecked the address into my GPS, and put the lockbox in my lap. I weaved in and out of traffic and sped my ass through yellow lights in order to get through them, and by the time I pulled onto the street I was supposed to be on, I could smell the burning rubber of my tires wafting through the air conditioning vents of my car.
“Just fucking great,” I mumbled.
I looked for the numbers on the house, but when I rounded the corner, I realized I didn’t have to: Marty was standing out front, and she looked smokin’ hot. She was wearing a pale-yellow dress that hugged her curves in all the right places with a pair of black stiletto heels that flexed those long, sexy legs of hers that went on for miles.
The same legs that I remembered wrapping around my waist back in high school.
When I pulled up and reached over to open the passenger door, I smiled even wider when she got in; she wasn’t wearing any makeup, and I could see those incredible freckles that dotted her nose.
“Smells like rubber in here,” she said.
“That’s what happens when you forget to send me the address,” I teased.
“Sorry. Got carried away with a bunch of shit.”
“Wow, Marty’s cussing. Is that a new thing, or do you still only do that when you’re stressed?”
“Right now, it’s stress.”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Just…everything’s going wrong with this wedding. We’ve got the flowers figured out, but there’s no caterer in the area that can book her reception this late in the game.”
“What happened to her original one?” I asked as I slowly began to turn the car around.
“Booked her for the wrong fucking day, if you can believe it!”
“Wow. Two cuss words in the span of three minutes. Must’ve been a hell of a day,” I smirked.
“Watch it, pretty boy.”
And there it was. The nickname she had for me in high school. Every time she talked about me, that’s what she called me. Never her boyfriend, her love, or her sweetheart.
“Been awhile since I heard that one.”
“Sorry…” she trailed off.
“Don’t be. It still sounds nice falling from those lips of yours.”
“How romantic,” she rolled her eyes.
“You know you love it,” I smirked. “So, where are we headed?”
“Are you familiar with this park across town? It’s got the lake with the late-night pontoon boat rides and stuff?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s a restaurant right across from it called—”
“—The Love Shack?” I asked.
“So, you know of it? The girls told me they have amazing food.”
But all I could do was chuckle lowly to myself as we turned onto the main road. “They did, did they?”
“Yeah. What, does their food suck or something?” Marty asked.
“No. It’s just…well…you have those themed restaurants where you live, right?”
“Yeah, New York City’s full of them. Why?”
“Well, The Love Shack is a themed restaurant.”
“Okay, well, what’s the theme?”
“Oh, trust me. It’ll be so much fun if you just wait and see. I just have to make a stop first.”
“Alright,” she shrugged.
We rode through town with the windows down before I pulled onto a side road. I weaved through some back roads while the stars twinkled above us, and finally the trees gave way to a massive strip mall. I pulled us into the desolate parking lot and cut through to the back, and that’s when the bank finally came into view. There were a couple of cars parked with people making deposits into that slot, and when I parked, I grabbed the lock box off my lap and began to enter the combination.
“Money from today?” she asked.
I kept silent before I flipped the lid open. I took out a deposit slip and wrote down my account information by memory, and I slipped it into the crumbled manila envelope before I shoved my door open and stepped outside. I knew this would open me up to a flurry of questions, but this money needed to be in the bank for my mom before the weekend hit.
We’d be in trouble if it wasn’t.
I shoved it into the slot and waited for my transaction receipt to spit out. “Phew,” I breathed before I turned around towards the car.
And there stood Marty, leaning against the hood with her head craned up towards the stars. I stood there for a second and took in her beauty. Her hair was shining in the moonlight and the pale color of her dress highlighted the delicious curves of her profile. She looked absolutely stunning; in fact, I don’t believe I’d ever seen a woman who looked so goddamned perfect. So much so, it took all I had not to hike up that dress of hers and bury my cock deep inside her right there.
“Ready to go?” she called out without turning around.
I smirked, “Whenever you are.”
She turned around and her eyes connected with mine, and for a split second, I saw her eyes flutter over my body. Earlier, she’d been too flustered with her day to notice how I’d cleaned up for her that night, so I’m sure the nice slacks and tailored gray shirt threw her off.
“I don’t remember this look from high school,” she smiled.
“I didn’t have this look in high school.”
“I guess people do change,” she grinned.
“Maybe not as much as you think,” I smiled.
“Ready to go to this mystery restaurant?” she asked.
I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when we walked into that fine establishment.
“Oh, yeah. I’m definitely ready.”