Page 9 of Love in Overdrive

His father answered in short, single-syllable words. The muscles in his dad’s forearm flexed as he gripped the pen with enough force to break it.

His dad hung up the phone and turned to his computer. Cade waited.

Eric ran a hand through his dark blond hair. The silver streaks near his temples stood straight out at the sides. He never looked at Cade, just handed him the work orders from a pile on his desk.

Yup, Dad’s in a fine mood this morning. Cade pushed off the chair, left the fresh coffee for his father, and took the work orders.

He had one foot out the door when his father said, “Thanks.”

Cade nodded.

“Have you checked into any business classes yet?”

He bit back his frustration. “No. Not since you mentioned it at Sunday dinner.”

Of all people, his father should understand Cade’s desire to work on cars. The smell of the exhaust, grease under his nails, and oil on his clothes. That was the life he wanted. He loved bringing an old relic, a piece of automotive history, back to its former glory, like his father did. Sure, the shop did repairs as well, but most of its income came from his father’s reputation of being one of the best at restoring show quality cars.

This drive for him to go to college from his father wasn’t new. It started when Cade was in high school. His father pushed and just kept pushing until Cade finally joined the military. At the time, he hadn’t planned on staying in, but he grew to love it. The different assignments. The travel. The way his squad became a second family.

But automotive was always in his blood.

Eric looked up, the lines on his face cut deep. His brows furrowed. “We decided that it would be best if you continued your education, something in the business field.”

When would that have been? It wasn’t the one time he visited Cade in the correctional facility.

A dull ache strummed behind his right eye, and it wasn’t from last night’s beer.

“Can we talk about this later, Dad? I’m going to get started on the brake job.”

At his father’s nod, Cade walked out of the office. He might as well save his breath. His father would never listen.

He stood at his toolbox, rolled his shoulders, and exhaled. He picked up the ratchet and turned it over in his hand. This was what he was supposed to do. He knew it. Standing here, holding the tool, he could feel his heart rate calm.

If he could only get his father to see it.

“Did you get her number?” Nash asked as he slid out from under a 1971 Mustang.

“Is the Pope Catholic?” All night, Cade’s thoughts warred over texting Laney. His track record wasn’t the best over the years. For some reason, he attracted the wrong type of women or those with overbearing exes.

Something in his gut told him Laney wasn’t like that.

The talking could be coming from a little lower. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman. Maybe he needed to get laid.

Visions of long blonde hair and bowed lips filled his head. He didn’t know her yet, but something in his gut said she wasn’t a wham-bam kind of girl.

Yes, she kissed him first, but that could have been the alcohol.

“Have you called her yet?”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

Nash rolled the creeper out from under the car. “Bullshit. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her all evening.”

“How would you know? You were checking out every girl in the bar, including her brunette friend.”

Nash ignored his question. “Call her.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow.” He didn’t want to seem too desperate.

Cade turned his back on his friend and checked his phone. He scrolled through his contacts. Laney’s name and number appeared. Relief relaxed his shoulders and a tiny grin tugged at his lips. Yes. He had her number.

But should he call her? Now that she wasn’t in his arms, the doubts crept in. Would Laney be the one to break his bad luck streak with women?

He needed to decide, and soon.