This installment is about my current project, LEAVE THE NIGHT ON, which I'm super excited about! How could I not be since it involves awesome cars and hot men?? I'm using my husband quite a bit for research purposes. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*
For the cars, people! Get your mind out of the gutter! He's a car buff and we have two project cars in our garage at the moment. Twice in the last few years, he's commandeered our kitchen table to rebuild an engine.
Jackson grabbed his arm and forced him around. “You like her.”
“Everyone likes her. She’s nice,” Wyatt said.
“I mean, you like like her.”
Twin powers were very annoying. “I maybe, sort of like her. What’s wrong with that? She’s single; I’m single.”
“She’s been single for less than a week. She’s using you.”
“Maybe I’m using her. You ever think about that? It’s been awhile since I hooked up.” Wyatt had to look away from his brother’s gaze once more which prompted a muttered curse from Jackson.
“Do not fall for this woman, Wyatt. Whether she means to or not, she’s going to rip your heart into little pieces and feed it to the gators before she goes back to her old life.”
“We’re not getting serious. She wants to have some fun, get a little crazy, and I’m more than qualified for the job.”
“As long as you don’t delude yourself into thinking it’s anything more than that. She’ll be back with Tarwater or someone like him by Christmas.”
Because the worry had already burrowed into his chest, Wyatt’s reaction was knee-jerk and defensive. “Someone like him?”
“You know, sophisticated. Worldly. Rich. Well-connected. Well-groomed.”
“Fuck you,” Wyatt shot back, but there was little heat to it. Jackson was right. “I’ve been told I clean up real nice.”
A rare smile bloomed over Jackson’s face changing his entire vibe. “Doesn’t count if it’s from a female relative over the age of sixty.”
“Sutton and I are hanging out and having fun. That’s it. No need to worry yourself over me.” They finished tidying the pit and took up posts on opposite sides of the open bay door. The sun trekked toward the horizon and threw orange and purple across the sky like a three-year-old finger painting.
“I don’t suppose you have a tuxedo I could borrow?” Wyatt finally asked.
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