Need You Tonight (5 page)

His comment had come out of nowhere. Okay, so not completely out of nowhere. I had started to give a little bit more information than he needed, but it was like I couldn’t help defending myself. I felt like he was attacking me
and Braden
.

Honestly, Parker confuses me. One minute, he’s decent, apologizing and making conversation, and the next, he’s rude as anything. He makes my head spin, and I don’t have time for that. I don’t have time for Parker or any other man for that matter.

I pull into the parking lot of Callahan’s and park in the back, away from the customers. Flipping my visor down, I check my reflection in the mirror. My hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, showing off the small pearl earrings and necklace Braden bought me to wear on our wedding day.

I touch one and then the other. “Wish me luck.”

Grabbing my purse and lunch tote, I get out of my SUV and head to the shop. It’s already bustling with activity. A few of the guys stop and stare. One starts to whistle, but another smacks him on the back of the head.

“Dude. Manners.” He picks up a wrench. “Rowan will have your ass if she catches you doing that to customers.”

The whistler flashes me an apologetic look. “Sorry, ma’am.”

I nod, and then hurry inside, my heels clicking on the tiled floor. Inside, it looks like a store from the 1950s with retro furniture, lots of chrome, and old pictures of a man and woman working on cars displayed on the walls.

My eyes widen as a gorgeous woman with long, blonde hair and big, blue eyes walks up to me. She’s wearing a shirt with the Callahan’s logo, dark jeans, and silver Vans.

“Hi. What can I help you with? Oil change, tire rotation or something more serious?” she asks.

“None of the above.”

Her brow creases, then smoothes out. “You’re Brooklyn, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and you must be Rowan.” I hold out my hand, and she gives me a long look before taking it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Do you always dress so prissy?” she asks as she finishes our handshake and lets go.

A little taken aback, I can’t help but reply, “Is that a problem?”

She laughs. “Not at all. We need some class in this place, now that Miss Myrtle can’t come in every day.”

As if to illustrate her point, a guy comes rushing in, oil dripping from his entire body. “If you don’t tell Stryker to keep his fucking dog at home, I’m going to quit. Every time I turn around, I’m practically tripping over him.”

Rowan rounds on him. “First, watch your mouth. Second, Stryker’s dog is a service dog, so he stays. Third, Boyd, say hello to our new assistant manager, Brooklyn Reeves.”

A slow grin covers Boyd’s oily face, his white teeth a sharp contrast. “S’up, girl.”

Rowan mutters something under her breath, while I bite down hard on my inner cheek to keep from laughing. She snatches a handful of napkins from beside the coffee dispenser and throws them at him, smacking him in the chest. The paper sticks to his shirt. “It’s
Ms. Reeves
to you and everyone else. Now, go clean up and spread the word to the other guys.”

“Will do, Little Boss.” He grabs the paper towels and wipes his face off. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Reeves.”

With a hidden smile, I glance at Rowan, who crosses her arms over her chest and gives him a pointed look. She reminds me of Soon Lin, someone who can bust balls and get things done.

“Nice to meet you, too, Boyd.”

He laughs. Shaking her head, Rowan motions for me to follow her. We head to the back of the shop, going down a narrow hallway and then inside her office.

“Have a seat,” she says, perching on the edge of her desk. The light is better in here, and for the first time, I realize that Rowan is my age.

I dig in my purse and pull out a copy of my resume. “I brought this just in case.”

Taking it, she lifts a brow. “Did you bring your cup?”

Flushing, I shake my head.

“You’re from Jacksonville?”

“Sort of. I’m from Columbia—it’s a town near the Outer Banks—but I moved away to attend Coastal Community after high school. After, I got,” I swallow. “
married
, we bought a house in Jacksonville close to the Marine base. Then I moved here, recently.”
Stop. Just stop, Brooklyn. She didn’t ask for your life story.

She gives me a hard look. “Legally, as an employer, I can’t ask you this, but as a woman… are you safe? Your ex isn’t going to try to cause you problems, is he? It’s not a deal breaker for me, and I won’t fire you on your first day over it, but I want to know up front what we’re dealing with.”

“No,” I say, my voice growing hoarse. “My husband won’t be… I’m a widow. He’s dead—the war.”

Her face pales as she hops off the desk, getting on eye level with me. “Crap. I’m so sorry, Brooklyn.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “I really stuck my foot in it.”

I shrug, trying not to cry in front of someone I don’t even know. As I try not to be stupid and weak after two years of barely living with myself. “It’s okay,” I say quickly. I don’t understand it, really, this ache that never goes away. Time is supposed to heal all wounds, but the hole in my heart just keeps getting wider. “He was a Marine. So…” I smile brightly. “Could you tell me more about the job?”

“The job,” she echoes, confusion written all over her face.

“Yeah.” I nod, my head bobbing like a broken doll. “I want to know about the job, the hours, the pay, and the dress code.”

Seemingly relieved, she stands up and goes over everything with me, ending with, “We’re only open to employees on Saturdays—so you’ll have off on the weekends.”

I blink. “The entire weekend?”

“The guys who work here are gearheads, so instead of them stealing the parts they need and heading back to jail when they eventually get caught, I let them order the parts at cost and deduct it from their pay. They also have use of all the tools here, too.”

Some of the guys have criminal histories.
I can practically hear Parker saying the words.

“And you should be aware that most of my employees have spent time in jail. They’re not couth, they don’t give a damn what your last name is, and more than likely, they’ll screw up again. But I completely believe in second chances, which is why I started Jailbirds to Jobs.” Rowan tips up her chin and crosses her arms over her chest. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

I don’t say anything for a moment because I don’t want to answer her with a flippant ‘yes’ or a fake ‘of course not.’ The thought of working around former criminals
does
bother me. I can’t help that, but I’m not going to hold it against any of them. And as Rowan said, everyone deserves a second chance. “My husband didn’t have the squeakiest of records, before the Marines gave him a second chance, and he still got in trouble every now and then. Sometimes, I contributed to his…um, backsliding. Is that a problem for
you
?” I counter.

Her stern expression eases, and she grins. “You’ve got some lady balls, Reeves. I like that.”

The rest of the day flies by as I take notes, learn names and codes, employee and delivery schedules… there’s so much to take in, but luckily, Rowan is patient with me.

“Don’t worry about nailing everything down today, or even this week,” she says, blowing her bangs out of her face. “I’ve been doing this for years, and I still forget crap. Which is where you, my shiny, new assistant manager, will come in.”

Snorting, I tilt my head and look at her. “Shiny?”

“Shiny or prissy. Take your pick.”

With a little laugh, I say, “I vote shiny.”

“Okay, then.” She nods at the clock above the door. “Time to knock off.”

After turning off the computer, I gather my things and look around my office. It’s located in the corner of the building and has twin corner windows. The view’s not bad—it’s a row of flowering trees bordering the parking lot.

“See you tomorrow.”

She pauses by the door. “Yep. So, um… about the dress code around here.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. My mother always told me to overdress for an occasion as opposed to underdress. My blue pencil skirt and white blouse are certainly overdressed for this occasion. “I’ll wear jeans tomorrow.”

“No, I don’t want you to wear jeans.” She holds up her hands and takes a breath. “You can wear jeans, if you want. But I wanted to say that you look very nice and professional. The pearls are extra nice.”

I touch my necklace. “My husband gave them to me to wear on our wedding day.”

She nods. “I thought so. Girls around here don’t wear stuff like that, unless they’re getting married or have a stick up their tail.”

I pretend to examine my butt. “No stick.”

“Good to know.” Rowan laughs. “Anyway, think about coming out with my friends and me Saturday night.”

“
This
Saturday night?”

“Is there another Saturday night during the week?”

“Ah, no. I mean yes… no,” Stammering, I stand up. It’s been so long since I’ve gone out with anyone that I don’t quite know what to say. “No, there isn’t another Saturday night, and yes, I would love to go out with you and your friends. I mean, I’ll check my schedule to be sure.” Is it even proper to go out with my boss for a girls’ night out? Should my boss invite me in the first place? Not that I expect a mechanic shop that gives second chances to felons to be rigid in employee/employer fraternization.

“Just don’t dress so prissy, okay? Not even Piper wears pearls on a girls’ night out.” She winks to let me know she’s joking, even with her very serious tone.

“Piper?”

“My best friend. She’s like you, all prim and proper. You know, basically your Exhibit A southern belle. The two of you will
love
each other.”

“I won’t take your friend away from you. I have friends.” And this is why I should have stopped with
yes, thanks. I’d love to go
.

“Bring them, too.”

My shoulders droop. “I can’t. They’re back in Jacksonville.” Or what’s left of them. Only Soon Lin and a few other ladies who’d experienced what I had had stuck around, but like me, they began to move away. One or two of them had remarried, but I can’t imagine a serious relationship with a guy, much less marriage.

“Maybe next time.” Rowan turns the lights off and on a couple of times, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I’ll lock up.”

“Thanks,” I say to her retreating form.

I shuffle down the hallway, and then out to my SUV, my thoughts on all the women I used to hang out with. All the things I used to do back when I had a life. All the couple dates Braden and I used to go out on to the bowling alley, the Japanese restaurant, to concerts, and on beach trips. Our last trip had been when he’d come home for R&R.

Rolling to his side, he throws an arm over his face and groans. “Can’t sleep, babe. Besides, you’re too damn sore.”

He’s right on both accounts. Last night he’d barely let me up for air, and I’d enjoyed every minute of it.

Suddenly, he turns back to me, fixing my bikini top before he hauls us out of bed. He throws me over his shoulder, smacking my butt before he opens the sliding glass doors.

The surf pounds against the shore as he runs to the water. I push against his back and lift myself up, laughing as we go.

“Ready?” he shouts, jumping over a sandcastle.

“Ready,” I squeal, closing my eyes tight. I know what’s coming—the plunge, the cold water… the sharp intake of breath before the water goes over my head.

“Don’t be afraid, B. I won’t let you drown.” He leaps into the water, letting me fall off his shoulder while grabbing my arms and pulling me to him. The water surrounds us, waves crash on our heads, and we finally bob to the surface.

I sputter, blinking my eyes and looking at him through spiky lashes. He grins at me. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

His smile turns tender. “You’re the best fucking thing to ever happen to me, Brooklyn. Fucking best.”

“So are you,” I say, searching his face. I want to memorize him. I want to hide him somewhere so he doesn’t have to go back for another five months.

“Maybe you’ll think about the baby thing,” he says, his brown eyes pleading.

Ever since he came home three days ago, that’s all he’s talked about. Soon Lin had warned me about this, about a man or woman’s burning need for creation and normalcy during a war.

She wanted to prepare me, so I wouldn’t be shocked and inadvertently hurt Braden’s feelings. Only, I want to have babies with him. I want him home for good. I want everything…

“Yes,” I say, joy filling me at the possibility of a life created from our love. “But can we wait until you come home? That way, if I need you, you won’t be thousands of miles away.”

He pumps a fist into the air, and then kisses me. Hard. “Hell, yes. Whatever you want. Just be prepared for me to be the most loving.” He kisses me. “The most helpful.” He kisses me again. A wave sends us up and then back down again. My feet touch the sandy bottom. “Husband of a pregnant woman ever. And after the baby’s born… I’ll teach him—or her—to be a wicked good Yankees fan.”

Laughing, I say, “I call dibs on college football and basketball.”

He cups my face, his body braced against the tide. In this moment, he’s strong, handsome, and so full of life that I lose my breath just looking at him. “Beautiful girl, you won’t ever regret taking a chance on this Marine.”