Page 89 of Really Truly Yours
Yes, it’s the top of the line trim package, but it isn’t as if I built it myself or something. “I hear you’re a mechanic? That’s cool. I can barely change my own oil.” Truth.
“If I could afford this baby, I’d be paying someone to do it for me.” He shakes his untamed hair, blonder than his sister’s. With a longing sigh, he takes one more look at the car and glances toward the house. “Where’s Syd?”
“Getting dressed.”
Sam snaps around. “Dressed?”
Eh, could have chosen a better word. “Yeah. I dropped by to see if she wanted to visit Donny. I’m waiting out here while she gets ready.”
“I see.”
I swear he’s disappointed. And I’m annoyed. Brothers are supposed to look out for sisters. There’s a lot of riffraff out there.
Don’t ask how I know.
He humphs. “Well, I kinda wish I’d missed you guys. Now, I gotta go in there and tell her that, not only is her car not ready, the repair is going to cost even more than I told her last week.
“How much more?” Yes, I’m tromping my dirty feet where they don’t belong.
My forwardness blows right past her kid brother. “About five-hundred. I thought I was finished, but when I test drove it, something wasn’t right. I have to order another part, plus, this time, I’m going to have to charge her labor. I’m burning a ton of time on that junkheap of hers when I got paying customers to worry about. I gotta eat too, right?”
Considerably more than he does, by the look of it. Sydnee is even thinner. Worrisomely so on the few times I’ve caught her without that swamping sweater that lends a false impression of size. Not that I find a single, solitary thing lacking in her physique.
At all, any part.
Cough-cough. Doesn’t take much lately to derail my thoughts when it comes to the lady in question.
The kid doesn’t seem like a bad guy, immature, maybe, but that’s twice now I’ve had to deduct points off his brother-rating. So work a few nights if you have to. Not sure where I’m getting this, but I suspect if anyone owes anybody anything it’s Sam to his sister.
By this point, I’ve raised my seat fully. “Do you need the money upfront?”
Sam props his elbow on top of my car. I spy a hole in the armpit of the navy work shirt. “’Fraid so.”
The kid peppers his speech liberally with four-letter words. I have this mental image of Sydnee correcting him. She’s too classy for blue language.
While fighting a grin, I dig my wallet from my hip pocket. “Tell you what...” I steal a glimpse at the diminutive house. I count out five crisp bills. Folding them in half and slipping them between two fingers, I offer them out the window. “Will this take care of it?”
Sam’s eyes grow. “Sure will.” He tucks the money into his shirt pocket, likewise shooting a look toward the warped little house.
“Can you keep this between the two of us, Sam?” I make and hold eye contact.
He bites his lip. “Neenee wouldn’t like it.”
If thirty bucks sent her over the edge? Probably, he’s on the money. I extract another hundred and press it into his hand. “Neenee doesn’t need to know.”
He frowns at it and at me for half a second, then joins the bill with the others in his pocket. I don’t think he was angling for the extra, and it seemed the right thing for his trouble.
Even from this distance, the scraping sound Sydnee’s front door makes when it grinds against the threshold is easy to hear. She’s a picture in well-fit jeans and a long-sleeved, sky-blue pullover that’s going to work magic on her already spellbinding sapphire eyes. A look of surprise at her brother and me talking gives way to a cautious smile as she walks over.
“Hey, Sam. What are you doing here? Is my car ready?”
Yep, those eyes are the color of deep waters. Hopeful, too.
“Um, no. Sorry.” He squints my direction.
She looks from him to me and back again.
Has the guy never heard of subtlety? I may have miscalculated. Don’t know if this kid can handle covert.