The Chance (Thunder Point #4)(48)

Genevieve giggled and pulled the throw from the back of the sectional and covered their legs. “Promise,” she said.

“Are you sure it’s me?” Laine asked. “Because I think this is a new side of you!”

“It’s you,” she insisted. “Now hurry up and tell me the good stuff before Pax gets home and distracts us.”

“Okay. All right. Well, he’s got the most amazing green eyes I’ve ever seen. And he’s strong because he works on cars, but not athletic—not into the same stuff I’m into. And he’s very interested in my self-defense maneuvers, challenging me all the time, because he’s just a guy, like Pax.... So I’ve had to throw him a couple of times. Which I think he secretly likes. And then there’s a whole bunch of other background stuff that makes us even more opposite....”

“But how does he make you feel?”

“Like the only woman in the world.”

“Oh.” Genevieve sighed. “I know that feeling!”

* * *

Pax walked into the house at midnight. He found his wife and sister snuggled under a throw on the couch, a couple of wineglasses on a tray on the floor. He bent over and picked up the wine bottle and tilted it. They’d almost killed it.

This was something he thought he’d never see—his sister cozied up to his wife, asleep. They didn’t actually dislike each other, but they’d never really taken to each other. Until tonight?

He noticed Genevieve looking at him through barely opened eyes. She was smiling. It was a sly, secret smile. He had known for a long time that his wife admired Laine and wanted to be closer. But Laine was a pill.

Apparently while he worked late at the hospital, some sort of magic had happened between his two most beloved women.

Eleven

Al got a big kick out of Eric. He always had. That Eric—he was at once serious and easygoing, a rare and welcome combination. That’s why when he was looking for work, looking for a change, he’d often find himself back at Eric’s garage. This time, this new town suited him fine.

While Eric’s girlfriend was back East visiting family she was texting Eric pictures of herself and her nieces making faces, painting their toenails blue, eating pizza or ice cream, dressed up in tutus—all of them, including Laine. Eric showed Al every one. Then she returned to Thunder Point and Eric seemed to go missing. He left the station early and gave Al the keys to the tow trucks.

Al was growing fond of the little town. He now had several acquaintances, folks he saw almost daily. He liked the diner for breakfast and got to know Gina and the owner, Stu. Mac, the deputy, was a regular presence all over town. Now and then he saw Hank Cooper and he spent a little time at the beach if he wasn’t at work, just to sit out on the deck at Cooper’s to check out the morning or watch the sunset. And there was Cliffhanger’s at the marina for a fancier meal. He figured out right off the bat that Ray Anne was a regular both there and at the diner so he began to watch for her, which wasn’t hard—now that she knew Al’s work hours Eric had confirmed that she seemed to need a lot more gas than she had in the past. She was a consummate flirt and Al never got tired of attention from a pretty woman. He could guess she was as old as he was, possibly held together with duct tape and bailing wire just under those tight clothes, but she sure looked good for a woman of a few years. He liked looking at the girls, but he couldn’t quite get interested in women who could be younger than his daughter, if he had one. Ray Anne had a mature sense of humor and it was clear she’d been around the block. This was good for him, since he’d probably been around a few more blocks than she had.

“What does a man like you do on days off?” she asked him when they were sitting in the diner one day.

“You’re looking at it¸” he said. “Nothing too exciting. Sometimes, if I have a project, like a salvaged car to work on, Eric welcomes me to use his shop. Then he expects first bid on a restored vehicle. And he’s got a kid working for him—Justin Russell. He has me training him.”

“How’s that working out?”

He shrugged and said, “It’s going okay. He’s seventeen.”

In fact, it was working out great. Al was getting attached to the kid. There was a time—a very long time ago—when he was a young man that he’d expected to inherit his father’s farm in Iowa, settle down and have a bunch of kids. While his father had been pretty harsh, Al was a patient man. Even though he had only a sister, he and his young wife thought a big farm family would suit them. Then the marriage didn’t work and that idea limped into an uneasy death. But that was a long time ago and it didn’t mean he had stopped appreciating the humor and challenge of kids even though he obviously wasn’t meant to have any.

The more responsibility Al gave Justin, the more Justin warmed up to him. Al not only showed Justin how to service the cars and trucks, but also had him filling out the paperwork for invoices. “This brake job is four hundred, one fifty is parts, the rest labor,” he’d informed the teenager. “Then figure the tax and I’ll show you how to run the credit card because no one has cash anymore. We do a few of these together and you’ll be president of the company.”

“What company?” Justin asked with a laugh.

“Okay, you’ll never be president, but you’ll be irreplaceable. You’re brilliant. You hungry?”