Just Kidding (SWAT Generation 2.0 #1)(21)

After getting a few more details for lunch straightened out, I got out of the car and waved.

Dad didn’t blow me a kiss like my mom would have, but he did wink at me, which was almost the same thing for my tough-as-nails father.

Grinning at his antics, I turned around and surveyed the large shop that my dad had taken my car to.

Free Custom Motorcycles and Mechanic Shop read on the sign out front.

It’d taken longer than I thought it should have to get my car fixed for only a small wheel, but when I walked into the open garage bay, I saw the reason why.

They were slam packed with cars.

When I’d asked my father why he’d brought it to Free, he’d explained that they were the best in town.

I mean, yeah, we’d always brought our vehicles here for everything.

But I’d never really understood why.

Until I walked in and saw all the shiny bikes, high end cars, and then there was my little Mazda.

“Can I help you?”

I blinked, startled to find myself under the scrutiny of a scarred man that looked a lot like the man I couldn’t stop thinking about.

Dax.

“I’m here to get my car,” I pointed at the red coupe next to the big blue lift thing that had a car about ten feet in the air. “That’s mine.”

The man turned to look at it, then nodded.

“Hey, Lenny!” he shouted.

A man appeared from the office with grease all over his hands and clothes, and a red rag in his hand.

“Yeah, Max?” Lenny asked.

“Can you get the ticket for Luke Roberts?”

Lenny gave a ’10-4’ from the office, and Max turned to survey me.

“You’ve grown up since I last saw you…” he hesitated.

“And lost some hair,” I finished for him.

Max grinned and pulled me into a tight hug.

He let me go a few seconds later, and I marveled at how big he was.

Just like his son.

“What happened to your hair?” he wondered.

I told him what happened, and when he started to scowl, I couldn’t help it anymore.

“You look exactly like your son right now,” I told him. “When I saw him at the police station that first day, he was scowling just like that.”

Max shrugged.

“Raised him to treat a girl right,” he admitted. “The thought of that happening to a woman should be abhorrent.”

“How much do I owe you?” I asked.

Max was already shaking his head. “Not a thing.”

“But…” I started.

“Your dad already paid me in beer,” he told me.

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

“But…”

That was when a bright red truck pulled into the lot and parked right in front of the open bay doors that we were standing in.

I knew who it was before he’d even gotten out of the vehicle.

I held my breath as Dax got out, one strong leg at a time.

My belly clenched.

“What are you doing in the truck today?” Max asked, bewildered. “It’s a beautiful day out.”

Dax grimaced.

“I had to pick up some stuff for Mom.” Dax’s eyes came to me where I was standing next to his father. “And I agree, it’s a beautiful day to ride.”

I felt his words in the pit of my stomach and shivered.

“Rowen,” he said, sounding calm and in control.

I waved.

“You’re here to get your car?” he guessed.

That was when Lenny came out of the office with a set of keys in one hand and a white sheet of paper in the other.

He handed them to Max who then handed the paper to me.

“Let me back you out of there so you don’t end up hitting my garage,” he said.

I gasped. “What the heck? Does my dad tell everyone that I can’t drive?”

Max chuckled and tossed me a look over his shoulder.

“I was there when you backed into a tree when you were eighteen. Remember?” he told me just as he maneuvered his large bulk into the front seat of my car.

I turned to see the man chuckling beside me. The witness of my embarrassment.

“You didn’t remember him being there for that?” Dax wondered.

I scrunched up my nose.

“I remembered,” I admitted. “I just hoped that he didn’t.”

Dax burst out laughing at that.

“That’s funny,” he said when he calmed down.

Seconds later he was crowding me over to the side so that his father could get past us. His hand was warm and solid on my elbow as he moved me. When I was out of the way, he still didn’t let go.

I didn’t remind him that he was holding my hand, either.

Mostly because it felt really good where it was at, and I knew that the moment I brought attention to it, he’d let me go.

He held me like that for long moments before finally allowing my arm to slip from his grasp, and the moment his hand left my skin, I felt like my soul did, too.

I ran my hands up and down the length of my arms as I tried to make myself warm again.

“Cold?” he asked.

I shrugged and said, “I should’ve brought a jacket.”

It wasn’t cold, per se, but it definitely wasn’t summer anymore.