Page 36 of A Real Goode Time

I patted his arm. “You sound almost defensive about doing something nice for him. I was just pointing out that you made it sound easier than it was.”

“Well, I did sorta go negative on that job, helping him. And you can’t really run a business on acts of generosity. I know that. But what I lost in labor costs, I’ve gained back and then some, in the amount of food and beer he’s comped me since then.”

“You shouldn’t feel defensive about being a good person.”

He laughed. “I know. And thanks. Not everybody understands, though.”

“Yeah, well, altruism seems to be as much of a dying art as driving a manual, huh?”

He eyed me. “You think I’m altruistic?”

“Sure. You go out of your way to help people, no matter what it costs you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled up to the curb behind his Jeep. “I gained a friend, and a friend who gives me free beer and fuckin’ great burgers. So I’ve gained as much as it cost me to comp the labor.”

“And everything you’ve done to help me? Where’s the benefit for you?” I had my hand on the latch, ready to get out.

He paused over his response. “I’ve done nothing. I picked you up. Spent, what, a few bucks in gas? Food I already had, some hot water? You helped me finish the Nova in half the usual time, and I got a great dinner companion.”

I felt a heat in my belly, warmth on my cheeks, something powerful swirling between my thighs. “Should we get going?” I asked.

He nodded, dug his keys out of his pocket. “Third gear sticks a little, gotta put some oomph into it when you shift into and out of it.”

“Got it.” I took the keys, and hesitated, meeting his eyes.

It felt like there was more to say, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Just…something, unsaid, something percolating under the surface.

I knew what was unsaid for me, but it wasn’t something I was ready to tell him just yet.

Telling a guy you’re a virgin tends to have…deleterious effects on the relationship. And I liked Rhys. Best to keep that little nugget to myself for now.

No point, right? It wasn’t going to go there. Besides, I’d promised myself.

Plus, once he found out, it may not go there anyway. Guys were weird like that.

I got behind the wheel of his big old red Jeep, and started it up. I followed him back to his place and wondered if it felt a little too much like going home.

6

Rhys

Torie driving my Jeep gave me a hell of a hard-on. Now, granted, there wasn’t much about the girl that didn’t, but a sexy girl driving a lifted Jeep, yanking the shifter through the gears? Almost as hot as when she’d done the burnout. God, I think my cock had nearly exploded. And the ache hadn’t lessened in the intervening time. And the more time I spent around her, the harder—sorry, moredifficult—it became to control the damn thing. And when she made jokes about how big my cock was? Gaaaah.

How the hell was a guy supposed to keep his shit contained under such circumstances?

Especially when I’d seen her tits bare, and she’d seen me jerking my turkey to thoughts ofher.

I growled. I’d have to find a few minutes alone at some point, or Iwouldhave a mess on my hands. Or rather, in my pants.

Probably at an inopportune moment.

For now, I just had to keep things under some kind of control, keep my eyes, hands, and overactive imagination to myself. Get Marty’s car fixed. Get it back to him. Get some sleep. Figure out why the in the blue fuck I’d offered to go on a road trip with a girl I wanted like hell, but with whom I knew nothing could happen, because she’d said she couldn’t.

I wasn’t one to play games or push. If she said she couldn’t start nothin’, I wasn’t going to force it. If she wanted to change her mind, I’d be there waiting to see what we could get into.

We got Marty’s car into my garage and up on the lift, and I pulled the tire off the suspect side—I’d heard the noise myself and knew exactly what the issue was. And, yep, as suspected, his front suspension was no good. Fortunately for Marty, I’d salvaged a ’68 Galaxie that had been rear-ended and then vandalized—the back end was toast, smashed glass, it was missing both back wheels, and the interior was rotten through, but the whole front end was basically perfect. And the Galaxie was essentially the same car, with the same suspension as the Fairlane.

It took a couple hours to get the Galaxie where I could get at it, lift the front end, and get the suspension free, and another hour or so to put it onto Marty’s car. Torie was essential, able to get into places and do things I couldn’t or at least not easily, willing to learn, eager to help. We got it done together in less than half the time it’d have taken me alone, and we had the Fairlane back to Marty in record time.