I thought of Sam’s truck. “Messing around, mostly.”

“All right. Let’s do a trial run. Ten dollars an hour. You can start with this oil change,” he said, pointing to the car.

I nodded, and stepped further into my new life. An oil change was easy, something basic I’d read in the many books Gabby brought home and something I’d done already on Gabby’s car. I found the drain pan he used off to the side, set it under the car, and started the oil draining. I went to the oil shelf he had in back and grabbed five quarts of the winter grade. Dale watched everything I did. It was a test I passed within twenty minutes.

“Good,” he said with a nod. “I’ve got a few more for you to do.”

The oil changes were fine. While I did those in the right bay, he pulled another car into the left. This one he didn’t hoist up with the lift. Instead, he wheeled over a cherry picker. I continued with my task and watched him struggle for a few minutes. He made the engine look heavy, but I knew from Sam’s truck it wasn’t too much for me to lift on my own.

“Come give me a hand,” he said after a few minutes.

He explained that the engine was slightly wedged and how we’d need to finesse it free so, once we had everything clear, the cherry picker could hoist it.

“Let me get an extra strap,” he said, moving around me.

With his back turned, I quickly lifted the engine, tilting it and pulling it forward. Cleared, I started hoisting it with the cherry picker before Dale turned back to me.

“Nice,” he said when he saw I already had it free. He glanced at me again, assessing me.

I shrugged and moved back to my current oil change.

Three hours later, he sent me home with an extra forty dollars in my pocket because of my initiative, and he also asked me to return around noon the next day.

As I made my way back to the house, I started planning what I’d do with the money. Gabby had some cash hidden in a box in her drawer. I’d seen her take from it a few times. I planned on putting a few bills there; hopefully, nothing noticeable. Since she’d just gone shopping, I figured I’d keep the rest in my wallet until she wanted something, like more of her favorite orange juice.

Once home, I showered and washed my clothes—except for the shoes. Rachel’s car pulled into the driveway just after I put everything in the dryer. I quickly shifted, fear making my heart race as I sprinted up the stairs.

She stepped into the house, petted my head, and held the door for me to go outside. She didn’t seem to notice the noise in the basement, so I went. She didn’t watch me from the door, but instead went to her room. A few minutes later, she was back and let me in. She’d changed.

I watched as she scribbled a note and dropped it on the table. She seemed in a hurry as she patted me on the head and left. I waited until she pulled out of the driveway to read the note. She was going to dinner with Peter and would be home late. She’d been doing that a lot lately, staying out until long after Gabby went to bed.

An idea formed, and I grinned. I had clothes, a job, and money. Gabby was interested in me as a man. It was time to start showing her what I could be for her.

The baked potatoes were done, so I turned the oven down to keep them warm. The chicken breasts were still sizzling in the pan, and the corn steamed in the pot beside it. I looked at everything, trying to figure out if I’d missed anything.

Outside, a car pulled into the driveway. My pulse leapt. I looked down at my shirt to make sure it was still clean. Yep. White and tight. Just like it’d been from the dryer.

As Gabby walked through door, I slid the two chicken breasts onto their plates.

“Wow,” she said. “I didn’t know you cooked. It smells great.” She closed the door, set her bag on the nearest chair, and moved to stand just behind me. Her scent wrapped around me. Then she inhaled deeply, robbing me of thought for a minute. Had she just scented me?

No, idiot. The food. I’m making dinner. For her. Stay focused.

I bent, pulled the baked potatoes from the oven, and added those to the plates along with a healthy portion of corn. Gabby moved away from me and grabbed us both a fork and knife from the silverware drawer before sitting at the table.

“So, other than cooking, how did you keep yourself busy today?”

Not ready to tell her about the job, I set the plates down and nodded at the last batch of books she’d brought me, which happened to be on the table. I’d finished the last one last night and had them there, ready for her to return.

“You read them all, already?”

I nodded.

“That’s a lot to read in just five days. Are you skipping chapters?”

Her amusement confused me, and I looked up to see why that would be funny. She blushed slightly and cleared her throat.

“So, about the beard...are your teeth ready to play nice?”

I laughed. My teeth were ready to play. Nice or not didn’t matter.

“Does that mean we can trim your beard?” Excitement filled her gaze.

I shook my head, wondering why she wanted the beard trimmed. This was the second time she’d mentioned it.

Her face fell, and she quickly looked down at her plate. I lifted my nose and tested the air. I’d disappointed her. I leaned back in my chair and studied her. Her interest made me happy; if a trimmed beard meant that much to her, I’d do it. But, I needed to understand why. My gut told me there was something more behind the request than her obsession with my grooming habits.

She glanced up, gave me a weak smile, and lifted another bite.

“This tastes great. Thank you for cooking. Do you have a favorite food? I can put it on the next shopping list.”

Why was she changing the subject now? She pushed a few bites around on her plate, her discomfort growing. I picked my fork back up, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

“Actually, let’s keep a shopping list on my dresser. When you think of something, you can add to it so I know what to get without guessing.”

We ate the rest of the meal in silence. When she was done, she brought her plate to the sink, then returned to the table and started reading from one of her textbooks.

“If you want, when you’re done, we can watch a movie,” she said as I took my last bite.

I wanted nothing more. I hurried to clean up. When she moved to help, I waved her back to her seat. If she did her work while I cleaned, I’d have more of her undivided attention later.

While I finished washing the stove, Gabby packed up and then hovered in the doorway, waiting for me. Behind my beard, I grinned triumphantly. She wanted me. Sure, it was just my presence she wanted, but I knew there would soon be more.

We moved to the living room, and I picked out a suspense movie. It worked well for snuggling the last time.

“If I scream again when Rachel comes home, no laughing,” she said as she curled up on the couch.

I started the movie and sat next to her. As she watched it, I concentrated on her. She immediately relaxed, just slightly leaning against me. Her pulse jumped several times within the first few minutes of the movie. And although I knew it had nothing to do with me, my pulse always leapt in response.

I frowned and actually focused on the movie when I felt her shiver beside me. It wasn’t that scary. A few minutes later, just as the girl was about to enter the house, Gabby popped up from the couch and went to her room. Tilting my head, I listened to her pull something from her closet.

Gabby returned, wearing a hoodie. She’d been cold. Damn it. I could have put my arm around her.

I spent the rest of the movie mentally beating myself.

When the movie ended, Gabby sprang from the couch, surprising me.

“Hey, Clay. Do you like cookies?” she asked as she left the room.

I stood and followed behind her, wondering what had brought on that unusual question. She opened a cupboard and started moving stuff around, looking for something. I stepped closer, barely an inch behind her, wondering what she was after. There wasn’t much in the cupboard.