wouldn’t be in this ridiculous, confusing mess.
He set her back on the ground, and they had a stare down.
Shane blinked first and took a step closer. “Okay?”
“Okay, fine! But this whole carrying me around routine has gotten very—”
He scooped her up and cradled her in his arms. She got the crazy feeling that he might just carry her off to bed. Her breathing hitched, and she ran hot all over.
“Very what?” he prompted.
“Old,” she breathed.
He chuckled and carried her out the door. “I agree. I can’t wait until you start carrying me around instead.”
She giggled.
I’m taking an elevator downstairs. That’s all. A warm, muscled elevator.
He set her down inside his shop and grinned. “Want another sundae?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He nodded once and went back to work.
She worked her way through the crowd of people in his shop, thinking again of the future for Book It, her baby, her passion project. She’d have to set firm boundaries with Shane. That was all. Business would be business, friendship after hours, and nothing more than that. It could work. It really could. It had to work.
She smiled to herself and stepped back out into the sunshine.
~ ~ ~
Shane drove to his dad’s house in Fieldridge after work. Usually he stopped by on Sundays, but he didn’t think his dad would mind the midweek visit. Shane was the only one of his brothers willing to spend time with their dad. It had been a year since Jack O’Hare had first contacted Shane about getting to know each other again. Before that, the last time Shane had seen his dad was when he was thirteen. Jack had walked out on him and his brothers shortly after their mom died. Jack had explained how his alcoholism combined with grief over the loss of his wife had proved too much for him to handle back then. He’d asked Shane for forgiveness and let him know he’d been sober for three and a half years.
Shane wasn’t one to turn his back on family. He’d already lost his mom, so if his dad wanted back in his life, he’d been willing to give him that chance.
They’d started spending time together every Sunday, working on a ’67 Shelby Mustang GT 500 his dad had inherited from his dad. Shane knew cars and tools, thanks to his dad, so working on the car was a natural fit. Before his mom had died, his dad had kept his drinking to nights so the boys knew if they caught him in the afternoon on a weekend, he’d play catch with them. But, unlike his brothers, Shane had been terrible at sports and had stayed away. He never got much attention from his dad until he was nine and asked for an E-Z Bake Oven for Christmas.
He got a toolbox instead with real tools. Jack dedicated himself to making sure Shane knew tools, cars, and how to fix stuff around the house. Everything Jack thought a man should know. Somehow working with his hands came easier to Shane than catching a ball. Maybe because he wasn’t afraid of something hurtling through the air at him.
Shane had ended up at culinary school despite his dad’s efforts. Still, it was good to know how to fix stuff too.
He rang the bell of the modest ranch home his dad rented. The door swung open, and Shane was struck once again at how much Ryan looked like their dad. His dad smiled, and wrinkles formed around his eyes with the gesture. “Shane! What a nice surprise. Come in.”
Shane stepped inside. The place was neat and sparsely decorated with old furniture his dad had picked up at Goodwill. “You feel like going for a ride?”
“Absolutely. Let me grab the keys.” His dad went to the kitchen to fetch the Shelby’s keys from their hiding spot behind the spice rack. Now that the Shelby was running, they’d been going for rides for the past couple of months.
They walked to the detached garage, and his dad punched in the code. The Shelby was valuable and highly collectible, since there weren’t many around like this beauty from ’67 signed on the dash by Carroll Shelby himself.