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Rats. Perhaps she had pushed too hard. "Sure. I'll order an oil filter and an air filter tonight and see what else it needs in the morning. I also want to look at the plans in more detail before I weld."
"Thanks."
Erin smiled. "You're welcome. Thank you. You're doing me a huge favor. Anything else you need done on the van or anything else, you let me know." She picked up the plans from the printer, then walked out, locking the doors behind her again. Rustling through the pages, she strolled back to her house. A good, basic campervan. Perfect for one person, and when everything was folded away, there was still plenty of room for cargo. When Erin entered her house, the dishes were drying in the rack, the TV was on, and Ryan was sleeping on the couch. Like he belonged there. Eight years younger. Employee. Same story, different day. She closed the door quietly, so she wouldn’t wake him. He’d probably be upset, since he thought he was guarding her place, but she wasn’t worried. She was sure he’d wake if someone broke glass or forced a door.
Erin grabbed her laptop, ordered the filters, and examined the plans. All of it was pretty simple, mostly spot welds. She might need help to weld the shelf brackets. Ryan would probably be happy to assist tomorrow afternoon, but she wasn't sure Wiz would allow him in the van. Guess she'd ask tomorrow morning.
Sprawled on the couch, relaxed in sleep, Ryan looked even younger, although still very much a man. Erin couldn't believe Ryan called her and Smoky "hot" together. Or that Michael's team believed the same, back in the day. She wasn't anything special. She hardly ever wore makeup or dresses and was taller than ninety percent of men; she didn't draw positive male attention. Especially if she was out with Sam and Deb—they were both prettier. He was probably trying to make her feel better.
Erin clicked on an email from Sam. The Custs were still slow-rolling her on the Barracuda, but the Adams' lawyer said they'd drop the lawsuit soon. He didn't give a specific reason other than Mr. Adams had made that statement after reading the logger's affidavit. Maybe he finally realized Kaylee grew up a spoiled brat rather than a nice young woman. Erin snorted. Not likely. He probably decided he couldn't win.
Ryan stretched, then sat up and looked around. When he met her gaze, he grimaced. "Sorry about that."
"Why? I don't mind if you take a nap." Never pass up an opportunity; that was her motto.
He huffed. "I’m not much of a guard dog if I sleep through you opening the door.” He shook his head. “Did you find out what Wiz wants?"
"Yeah. Come look at these plans. Pretty cool. I'll probably need your help, or hers, if she doesn't want you in the van, but it shouldn't be difficult."
He came over next to her, taking the paper plans out of her hand. Ryan took his time looking through them, then grinned. "This is great. Not only is it an awesome design, but this means Wiz is looking at leaving the Fortress of Solitude for more than one trip. This is real progress."
She hoped so. "I wonder where she's going first?"
"Probably not tourist destinations." Ryan snort-laughed.
Erin sputtered. "No, probably not. The van isn't four-wheel drive, but it's got good clearance, so maybe she's planning on doing some remote camping or something?"
"Wiz liked to camp and hike back in the day. She used to come out with us all the time." His fond smile twisted. "More than her loser husband did, that's for sure."
"He was really that bad?" So many bright women ended up with terrible spouses because they hadn’t gotten the support they needed growing up.
"Yeah." Ryan glared at the floor.
She might not have the skills to help Wiz, but maybe she could help Ryan. "Offer still stands, you know."
"Offer?" He glanced at her, then looked at the plans.
"To talk about it. Or not. Your decision." Wiz, you, one of you—talk to me about what's bugging you.
"Thanks. Anyway, I'll be happy to help with the van. Any news on where to stick the 'Cuda? I know where I'd like to stick it," Ryan snarled.
Erin laughed. "No. Sam says they're still slow-rolling her. We’d both like to drop the thing on their lawn, but they have too much money and influence. They’d probably sue for mental distress. But she had some good news—the Adams may drop their suit."
Ryan raised both brows. "That is good news."
"Yeah." It had cost her more than she could afford, but dropping it now would avoid sending good money after bad. Erin really wanted to know what happened to Ryan downrange, but he had to bring it up. If he wouldn't talk about his experiences, she'd change the subject. "Do you have all your gear for the trip next weekend? Or do you need some help?"
Ryan jumped, eyes wide. "Shoot, that is soon, isn't it? I've got some stuff, but most of my old gear is gone. My sister and brother cleaned out my mom's attic, and they got rid of my stuff too."
"Really? They didn't ask you first?"
"I'm sure it was probably toast, or they would have." Ryan shrugged. "Anyway, I need boots, backpack, and a sleeping bag."
"This might sound a little weird, but I still have Michael's old bag and pack." Erin looked at his build, trying to compare the two of them. "You're not as broad as he was, but you're about the same height. It's torso length, not height, that counts on a pack, but you could try it on."
"That would be great. Good gear is expensive." He rubbed his fingers together.
"Come on, the pack is in the garage. I keep meaning to give it away but haven't gotten around to it." Which was true. First, Erin couldn't bear to give it away. Then she forgot and ignored it, so it collected dust.
