Shane thought of Bellamy’s fiery green eyes and the way her hips looked in those expensive designer jeans for a long second before answering. “Probably not.”
“Right. So what-say we go grab some beers at the Double Shot? Come on, buddy. I’m buying.”
Shane’s brows popped. “That’s your mission? Are you honestly that hard up for someone to drink with?”
“Matter of fact, I am. Word is Samantha Kane just broke up with Jimmy Bowman.”
“Jesus, is that the girl you’ve had the crush on since sixth grade?” Shane laughed. How anyone could have a thing like that for someone else was beyond him. Casual sex, he understood. Dating, he understood, even though he didn’t really do it. Not a whole ton of options in a town as small as Pine Mountain. But unrequited love? The kind where you withered away for one person and one person only? Where you walked around looking like that ridiculous emoji that had hearts instead of eyes?
Not happening to Shane in a million years.
“If you want to get technical, since December of the fifth grade,” Jackson said. “But anyway, she’s bound to be out tonight, and I’m not going to impress her if I show up alone. I need a wingman, and you, my friend, have special charm. Even if you never use it. What do you say?” Jackson arched a brow toward his blond crew cut and grinned, but something flickered in his stare.
Shane tilted his head at Jackson. “Did Grady put you up to this?”
Shane had called Grady right after Bellamy left the garage to let him know the job had come in, although he’d deliberately fudged the truth about when he planned to pull the transmission out of her car so the old man wouldn’t come back in to work. The shadows under Grady’s eyes lately suggested that being in the garage was wearing on him, and Shane didn’t mind picking up the slack.
Just so long as Grady didn’t know he was picking up the slack.
“Not exactly,” Jackson said to his scuffed work boots.
Shane arched a brow. “You suck at bending the truth.”
“Well, the Samantha Kane thing is true,” Jackson started, and Shane saw the honesty in his expression. “But yeah. I saw Grady in town a little while ago and he said something about you bein’ here an awful lot, so I figured I’d see if you wanted to go grab a beer or two. It’s not like it’ll hurt anything. This time tomorrow, you’ll have that tranny out, and for what? A three day wait on parts? Come on.” Jackson tipped his head toward the door. “This fancy bucket of bolts will be here tomorrow, no worse for wear.”
Well, shit. As much as Shane hated to admit it, Jackson had a point. Plus, the last thing Shane needed was Grady thinking he spent too much time in the garage. Shane worked his ass off, yeah, but he did it because he loved it. It had been that way ever since the minute Grady had hired him.
Hell if that wasn’t a thread Shane didn’t feel like pulling.
He grumbled, mostly to cover up his smile. “I’ll only go on one condition.”
Jackson lifted his brows at Shane in question. “And that is?”
“Your ass is coming back in here tomorrow to help me muscle this tranny out.”
Jackson shook his head like he should’ve known better. “Let me guess. Damn thing seized? You know those things are a pain no pill can reach, right?”
Thinking of how the car had come to be here in the first place, Shane had to laugh. “You think that’s bad, you should see its owner. Come to think of it, a couple of beers might not be the worst way to end this day after all.”
Bellamy eyed the faded sign over the side of the worn wooden building and laughed.
“The Double Shot? Now that’s what I’m talking about.” After the day she’d had, she could use a good drink. Preferably one strong enough to take the paint off her car.
The very car that was currently sitting in some back roads garage, waiting for parts that cost more than a Caribbean beach getaway.
Okay. Maybe she needed more than one drink.
“Yes,” Jenna said. “We plugged ‘hot men, local bar’ into the GPS and this is what popped up. Go figure.”
“Bellamy’s here to forget men,” Holly reminded her, slamming the passenger door on Jenna’s BMW.
Huh. In the wake of all the crappy events raining down on her today, Bellamy hadn’t even thought twice about Derek. He seemed like small potatoes compared to her French-fried transmission and its sky-high price tag, not to mention the fact that she still had to deal with calling the boss from hell to try and weasel a whole week’s worth of days away from the grind.
“I’m here to forget one man,” she corrected. “And to be honest, I don’t really think it’s worth my energy to be pissed at Derek.”
Jenna tipped her head as they hustled through the busy parking lot. “You’re not mad at Mr. Fantastic anymore?”
“He wasn’t that fantastic, obviously,” Bellamy griped.
“How great can a guy who colors his hair really be?” Holly asked. “I swear, he used more product than all three of us combined.”
Bellamy laughed, the bone-chilling cold taking her excitement for the evening down a notch. “I’m not talking about his looks.” Oh, thank God. They had finally reached the door. “What I mean is, now that I think about it, the whole relationship was kind of just…meh.”
If her relationship with Derek was as exciting as dry wheat toast, then she’d found its polar opposite in the bar she’d just entered. The place was packed with people, all in various states of drunk and disorderly, and between the low lighting and the loud, freely flowing music and equally free-flowing alcohol, Bellamy knew they’d discovered the perfect place for her to drown her sorrows.
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but Derek wasn’t exactly riveting. Although he sure thought so,” Holly half-shouted over the din as they made their way toward the crowded bar.
“Please. I can say this now that he’s a thing of the past. The guy was an asshat,” Jenna said.
Bellamy stopped short a few steps from the glossy wood of the bar that ran the entire length of the room. “Did you always think so?”
Jenna chewed her lip for a second. “Yeah, kind of.”
Shock hit her square in the chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I wasn’t the one dating him.” Jenna shrugged. “You seemed to like him well enough, and even though he was kind of a weasel, he wasn’t going around kicking puppies.”
Holly nodded in agreement. Of course, they weren’t wrong. Derek wasn’t necessarily horrible. Their relationship wouldn’t have lasted the handful of months that it had if he’d been that bad. But he sure wasn’t as great as he thought he was.
In more ways than one.
The unexpected pang at the memory of her lackluster sex life with Derek made Bellamy’s cheeks flush, and she took a long draw from her beer. It wasn’t like a through-the-roof sex life would’ve saved the relationship in the end.
But it wouldn’t have hurt anything, either.
“I’ve got bigger fish to fry than Derek,” Bellamy said, shoving the thought—and the pang that had worked its way farther south—aside. “How am I going to get home on Monday without a car? Bosszilla is probably already losing her mind at the fact that my Wi-Fi is spotty at best up here.”