His own sponsor responsibilities weren’t scheduled until right before Saturday’s round of the competition started.
“Fine. I’ll talk to you when I get to Carolina.” Whatever day that ended up being. At this point he was weighing the lesser of the two evils.
“Okay. Later.”
“Later.” Garret hung up and, after second thought, hit the power-off button for his phone before putting it back in his pocket. He’d had enough of phone calls and unwelcome news for one day.
He bent to pick up the next board and another screw from where he’d dropped it on the ground, and with the peace and quiet of the woods surrounding him, set to finishing this damn ladder.
Work progressed much quicker without his phone ringing. He didn’t hit any more knots and zipped right along, board by board, rung by rung.
By the time he reached the top and final board, he was about sixteen feet up in the tree. A plywood triangle would span the three trees. But before he could even think about screwing in the braces for the floor, he had to saw off some of the limbs in his way. And if his father had been here, the way he was supposed to be, he could have handed Garret the hand saw instead of him having to do everything himself.
Pissed off again at that thought, Garret made his way back down. His feet hit the ground and he turned to see his father walking toward him.
“Hey, boy.” His father glanced up, taking in the work already completed with eyes that were the exact same shade of green as Garret’s. “Looks good. You got a lot done alone.”
“Yup.” Garret bit back any further response and made his way to the crate holding the tools.
“Looks like you could get the flooring up today before sunset.”
He might have if he’d had some help. Garret avoided eye contact with his father and grabbed the saw. “Don’t know. I still have to clear some limbs, screw in the braces, get the exact measurement and then go back to the house and cut the plywood to size.”
“No rush. It’s supposed to be nice all week. We can finish it up together tomorrow.”
“Oh, no date tomorrow?” He turned his head and pretended to look up at the tree rather than let his father see the scowl he was sure was on his face.
“No, but actually…”
“Actually what?” Garret finally looked at his father and waited.
“Molly’s coming over for dinner tonight.” He brushed a dark brown curl from his forehead and Garret noticed that though they’d always had the same color hair, his father’s was now showing a few strands of silver at his temple.
“Molly?” Crap. Garret was happier when he hadn’t known her name. Now she seemed even more real. He smothered a sigh.
“Yeah. She’s the woman I went out with today.”
This conversation about the new woman in his father’s life wasn’t going to happen, and neither was a cozy family dinner between the three of them if Garret had any say in it. Nope. No how. No way. “Well, you two have fun. I have plans.”
A frown knit his father’s brow. “Oh? I didn’t know that. I was hoping you could meet her.”
Garret let out a laugh. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d want to.”
“You marrying her?” Garret’s heart pounded harder at the ridiculous and horrifying thought.
“No, of course not. I mean, it’s too soon to tell that. We’ve only been out on two dates.”
“Then I don’t need to meet her.” Garret shrugged and ignored the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“You’re right. You don’t.”
When Garret looked up again, it was to see his father walking away. Good. Now the man knew how he felt. This was good. So why did he feel worse than before?
He packed up his tools and supplies and called it a day. The rest would wait until tomorrow. Besides, he needed to get home, shower and make himself scarce. Since he’d lied to his father and said he had plans, he’d better go and find himself some and quick. Bouncing along the trail through the woods, Garret tested exactly how fast the all-terrain vehicle could go. The loud rumble of the engine as it strained to go faster somehow helped his mood.
Silver Jordan pulled up to her parents’ house and drew in a deep breath, bracing herself for the hell that surely lay within. Oh, nothing was wrong. It would be the same old stuff, but she wasn’t in the mood for it today.
But if she wanted to have clean clothes for work this week, she’d have to suck it up and smile through the pain…or go sit at a Laundromat for a few hours. Tough choice, that. Something she’d have to consider until the superintendant got the damn washer fixed in her building.
Pasting on a hopefully convincing smile, Silver grabbed her laundry bag out of the back seat of her car and headed for the side door of the house.
Wouldn’t it be nice if her parents were out somewhere? Then she could sneak in and out unscathed, leaving nothing but a note and the fresh smell of dryer sheets in her wake. As she slipped in the door that led through the garage so she could enter at the back of the house closer to the laundry room, Silver saw that was not to be. The big new Mercedes her parents had just bought was parked there. Oh well, it had been nice to dream for a few minutes anyway.
“Mom. Dad. I’m here.”
“Hello, Susan.”
She cringed at hearing her mother’s voice, hating her lackluster given name with every fiber of her being. She’d changed it so she could be an individual. So her name would stand out from the crowd as much as she wanted to. But she’d long ago given up trying to get her parents to call her by her chosen name instead.
Dumping the laundry bag on the floor by the machine, she planned on taking an extra-long time sorting her darks from her whites so she could hide out in the laundry room for a bit. She refused to feel any shame in avoiding direct contact with her parents. It was better for all involved really, because if they gave her that pursed, poor-Susan-who-has-no-boyfriend look one more time she’d be up for double homicide. Or patricide. Or whatever it was called.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Her mother was always trying to feed her. The woman was somehow convinced Silver was going to starve to death because she didn’t have a man to support her.
“I guess.” Then again, Silver’s fridge was pretty bare. Not for lack of money, but more because she hated grocery shopping about as much as she hated the name Susan. “What are you making?”
“Your favorite. Lasagna.”
Yum. That was her favorite. As long as she was going to stay, at least she’d enjoy the food.
“So your brother Aaron called.”
Silver shook her head. Apparently her mom was going to hold a full conversation with her even if they were two rooms apart and it had to be done by shouting. A repeat of her favorite show must be on and she was bored.
“And?”
“Nothing. He just wanted to say hello and see how we were.”
“Well, all righty then.”
If this was her mother in the prime of her life, she could only imagine how pointless the conversation would be when her parents got older and started to lose it.
“Your father wants to make sure you got the oil changed in your car.”
“Not yet.” She frowned. “Wait, where is Dad?”
“Right here next to me. He says you better do it. It’s long overdue.”
“I will. I promise.” She dumped detergent in and slammed the door shut. Might as well go inside since they could nag her from afar just as easily as face-to-face.
She found them in matching chairs in the living room. “Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad.”
“Susan, you know the oil is the lifeblood of a car.”
“I know, Dad.” She also knew her father would never hound her to make sure she took care of her motorcycle the way he did about her car. Apparently he was hoping she’d forget to change the oil in her bike so the engine would seize and she couldn’t ride it anymore.
Parents were so predictable. What they refused to accept is that she loved that bike as if it were her baby. When she took it out on weekends or after a long, hard day at work, it made her feel free. Made her feel like the person she really was deep down inside. The person she kept hidden all day at school. And when she had the spare time and money to get work done on one of her vehicles, given a choice between the two, the bike won every time. Except for this time. If she didn’t get the oil changed in her damn car, her father would never let her hear the end of it.
“How long before dinner?” Her father glanced at his watch and then at her mother and Silver began to fear what was coming next.
“At least another hour. I just put it in the oven a minute ago.”
Silver’s father hoisted himself out of the chair. “I can take your car in now. Jimmy’s open late. He’ll slip it in for me as a favor.”
“Dad, I’ll do it. I swear—”
“I’ll just get it done for you and then it’ll be finished.”
She took a step forward and laid a hand on his arm. “Seriously, I already have an appointment to get it done tomorrow during my lunch hour. I wouldn’t want to have to cancel this late.”
“Oh, okay. That’s good. Make sure they check the tire pressure too.”
“I will.” She let out a breath of relief.
Lying to her father had been necessary. If he’d gotten into her car and seen that not only was the oil change five-thousand miles overdue according to the recommendation on the sticker, but also that it needed to be inspected and that two of the tires were pretty much bald, he’d have flipped his lid. She’d have had to sit for an hour-long lecture about caring for her things better.
“And I certainly hope you’re taking better care of that deathtrap of a motorcycle you insisted on buying yourself, than you are of the car we gave you.”
Meaning the old car they’d driven for years and then given her when she’d turned sixteen and they’d gotten a new one. Silver sighed at her father’s parting jab but let it go. And yes, she did take better care of her bike. She
liked
her bike.
The fib about the car appointment carried them all the way through a fairly happy and uneventful dinner with no more car discussions. Silver left her parents’ house two and a half hours later with a bag full of clean clothes and a plastic container full of leftover lasagna. All in all, it had been a good night, even after a slightly rocky start. Her parents ate dinner insanely early, but that was perfect. It was still light out and she got to get out of there and head home to watch some television that people living in this century might actually enjoy.
In fact, Silver was in such a good mood she was even singing along with the radio as she sped down the highway between her childhood home and her apartment. That’s probably why she didn’t hear the rattle or the grinding at first. Not until the thick black smoke began to billow from beneath the hood anyway.
Aw, crap.
She couldn’t call her father. Or Aaron, for that matter. He’d just tell them. If her parents found out, she was never going to hear the end of this. Silver pulled out her cell. There was only one hope. Beckie, her best friend and cousin, would just have to come and follow her to the nearest service station.
Chapter Two
In his bedroom at the house, Garret pulled a clean shirt out of the closet. Meanwhile his father was in the kitchen making his romantic dinner for two.
Garret sighed. There’d better be someone out tonight for him to hang with. There had to be. And even if there wasn’t, hell, he’d just eat and drink alone. No problem. It had to be preferable to sitting here with his father and his new girlfriend, Molly.
Molly.
He couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like. Had his father picked a woman similar to Garret’s mother? He wasn’t sure if that would make him feel better or worse. He decided to simply not find out and get the hell out of there so he’d never know. Hopefully, he could avoid running into this Molly person before he hit the road for North Carolina. Then, with any luck, his father would have moved on by the time he was home next.
Moved on. Moved on to what? Another woman? That wouldn’t be any better. And how the hell was his father getting women when Garret had trouble himself? What Chase had said that afternoon on the phone was totally true. Even though Garret would never admit it to anyone—hell, he had trouble admitting it to himself—he did get shot down as often as he scored. But whatever. That was fine. The chase was half the fun. It was like hunting. What fun would it be if the deer just stood there and waited for the hunter to take aim? None at all.
The same was true with girls. Garret liked scoping out the bar or the audience at the arena. Picking out who he wanted to go for. Trying to get her attention. Winning her over even when she didn’t want anything to do with him—or at least pretended she didn’t. It wouldn’t be as exciting if they fell over in his bed with their legs spread.
No challenge. No fun.
It sounded like a good argument to him. He’d have to use it next time Chase was acting cocky because he had guaranteed sex with Leesa while Garret was bankrolling some girl’s drink tab trying to woo her into at least a kiss.
Garret ditched the towel he’d wrapped around his waist after getting out of the shower and pulled the fresh shirt on. That was another thing. With a female in the house, he’d have to start making sure he was decent all the time. That his door was closed when he was getting dressed. That the bathroom door was locked. That the toilet seat was down. That he wasn’t wandering around in nothing but his underwear. Things he didn’t do now because it was just him and his father in the house.
Shit. This was yet one more reason to hate his father for not only dating, but for bringing this woman home and subjecting Garret to her.
He lost no time pulling on the rest of his clothes and his boots. After grabbing his hat, he made sure his wallet and phone were in his pocket and then headed out of his room. He strode down the hallway and pulled open the front door…where there stood the woman who had to be Molly.
“Oh, hi. I was about to ring the bell.” The redhead, probably only about ten years older than himself, smiled. “You must be Garret.”
Perfect. His father had scored a younger woman and a redhead. That figured. Garret had always wanted to be with a redhead. Now that his father had gotten one first, that fantasy would be totally ruined for him forever. And she was probably as close to Garret in age as she was to his father. He shook that disturbing thought from his brain.