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“So that’s how it’s gonna be,” Clinton said with a leer.

“It is, and if you don’t keep your mouth shut and get on with your work, you’ll get a belting too, just not on your butt,” Brock snapped.

“Damn…”

At that, everyone shut up and turned back to their work, which was just what I needed. Find the source of the engine whine, not sit around whining myself, I grabbed a wrench and approached the engine bay, but as I leaned over? I had a hot reminder of what was to come once knock off time came around.

Chapter 13

Brock

A snarky, bantery kind of relationship? How the hell was I supposed to do that? People always said I never used two words when one would do, and now she wanted to what, play fight?

I only ever played to win.

I stared at the bathroom mirror, taking in my fresh flannel shirt and clean jeans. I’d squirted on a little cologne the girl at the fragrance counter told me women liked, and my hair was wet and combed back. I was never going to get any more ready than I was, so I pushed away from the sink and walked out into the garage.

“Pretty sure it’s beer o’clock,” I announced. It was nearly 4 P.M. and we always left early for drinks on payday. I heard tools drop and feet scramble as the mechanics appeared from everywhere.

“Last one ready pays for the first shout!” Clinton said, tearing his overalls off to reveal jeans and a blue work shirt underneath. The others started doing the same. I think I even saw a button go clattering across the workshop floor in response, but Jamie emerged triumphant, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Whoop!” She smirked when Gary’s boot got caught on his overalls, forcing the man to hop around cursing wildly before finally freeing his foot. “Gazza’s first shout! I’ll have a rum and Coke?—”

“But you’re not ready,” I told her.

“What?” She looked down as if to check if she still had her overalls on and then frowned as she looked at me. “I am too. I was second?—”

“You’re not ready.” As her chest puffed up, I cocked an eyebrow, but instantly regretted it. She had a baggy, old long-sleeve t-shirt on under her overalls, but Clinton at least was noticing the body underneath it.

And so was I.

“We’re going out for dinner afterwards.”

“I’m not dressed for going out to dinner,” she said, as if she didn’t look like the sexiest little thing when her hand went to her hip. “I guess we’ll just have to have a counter meal like usual.”

Huh, if this was banter, I could get behind that. I shrugged.

“While I definitely will take you to a restaurant as you are.” I let my eyes slide slowly over the ragged pair of jeans and t-shirt like it was a fancy dress or something, just treasuring the opportunity to stare at her openly. “I know you, Jamie.” I caught her gaze then and held it. “I’ll pay for everyone’s drinks tonight if you don’t have a bag of clothes in your car to change into.”

“Oh, shit just got interesting,” Clinton muttered. For a moment I feared I’d mis-stepped. Jamie had everyone’s attention again, but this time her eyes narrowed rather than going wide. “So where’s your car, Mouse? We can take a look in the front seat and?—”

“Fine.”

She strode out of the workshop, only to return with a plastic bag full of clothes. Inside, I mentally pumped a fist, that she’d remembered our date and prepared for it.

“So does this mean Mouse is buying tonight?” Ken asked with a chuckle, but when she opened her mouth to reply, I shook my head.

“Jamie’s my date tonight. I was always going to fit the bill, now, babe…” I watched her jaw clench. “If you could go and make yourself even more beautiful so we can get going, that’d be great. Pretty sure everyone here has a beer with their name on it waiting for them at the pub.”

She turned on her heel and marched off into the bathroom without a word.

“You’re a brave man.” Ken shook his head.

“Nah, Brock’s got it right,” Gary replied. “My missus, you pay her a compliment or do something nice and she’s looking around, wondering what you did wrong. Ruffle her feathers, though.” He shot the lot of us a smug smile. “She comes on hot.”

“Gross,” Clinton announced. “Less talk about old people sex, thanks.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m keen to find Miss Right, or Miss Right Now, at the pub tonight.”

“As if any woman with half a brain would take a second look at you,” Ken grumped.