Chapter 32: The First Turn of the Key
The engine bay gleamed beneath the barn's dim light, every bolt torqued, every line seated clean. I wiped a smear of grease from my cheek with the back of my wrist and let out a slow breath, my eyes tracing the rebuilt steel and rubber that had once been a rusted mess of neglect. "I think she's ready to try."
Allan's eyes widened as he stepped back from the fender, wiping his hands on a rag. The grin that split his face was boyish and bright. "You sure? Because if she blows up, I'm blaming you."
I snorted, reaching for the key in my pocket. "Noted. I'll take full responsibility, Deputy."
I closed the hood with a soft thunk and climbed into the cab, the worn bench seat sighing beneath me. My fingers hovered over the ignition key, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Okay," I muttered to myself. "Okay."
I turned the key.
The engine coughed once, a dry sputter that made my stomach drop, and then it caught. A low, throaty rumble filled the barn, steady and sure, vibrating up through the floorboards and into my bones. The sound was beautiful. I sat there for a moment, listening to it idle, feeling the pulse of it through my palms on the steering wheel.
I killed the engine and hopped out, my boots hitting the dirt floor. Allan was already grinning, arms crossed over his chest, that boyish light in his eyes. I didn't think. I just moved, crossing the space between us in three quick strides and leaping into his arms as he caught me with a surprised laugh.
My legs wrapped around his waist, the rough denim of his jeans scraping against my bare thighs where my shorts had ridden up. One hand tangled in his hair, the other pressed flat against his back, the thin cotton of his tank top warm beneath my palm. His grease-stained hands found my thighs, fingers curling just beneath the hem of my shorts, and I pulled him into a kiss that was hungry and desperate and full of all the months of work we'd poured into that truck.
He kissed me back like it was the only thing he knew how to do, his mouth moving against mine with a certainty that made my toes curl. The barn smelled like oil and hay and him, and I didn't care about any of it. I just wanted to stay right there, wrapped around him, the engine's rumble still echoing in my ears.
We didn't hear the footsteps.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
The voice cut through the haze like a splash of cold water. I pulled back, breathless, and found Dana standing just inside the barn door, her hands on her hips and a wicked grin on her face. She was wearing the green sweater we'd picked out, her auburn hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, makeup flawless.
"Guess I should've called ahead," she said, her tone light and teasing. "Didn't realize I'd be interrupting a private... engine celebration."
Allan's face flushed a deep red, but he laughed, gently setting me down on my feet. His hands lingered on my waist for a moment before dropping away. "I'll, uh, go get cleaned up," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Give you two a minute."
He slipped past Dana with a sheepish nod, and she watched him go with an amused shake of her head before turning back to me. She stepped forward, arms opening for a hug, but I held up a grease-covered hand.
"Don't," I said, gesturing at my clothes. "I'll ruin that sweater. It's too nice."
She laughed and let her arms drop, but the smile on her face was radiant. "Fine, fine. But you owe me a hug later." She hopped up onto the edge of a workbench, her legs swinging, and I leaned against the truck's fender, crossing my arms.
"So?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"So," she repeated, her grin threatening to split her face. "It went amazing. We talked for two hours. Two hours, Sabrina. I didn't even finish my latte before it was cold, because we were just talking and talking and I didn't want it to end."
"That's fantastic," I said, meaning it. "And he asked you out again?"
She nodded, her cheeks flushing pink. "Saturday. He asked if I wanted to have dinner with him. Dinner. Like, actual dinner, not coffee."
I felt a burst of warmth in my chest, a happiness that surprised me with its intensity. Dana had been so nervous, so convinced she'd mess it up, and here she was practically glowing. "Then we should celebrate properly," I said. "You and Ellis, me and Allan. Double date. Saturday dinner at my place. We can get together in the afternoon and make a day of it."
Her eyes went wide. "Really? You'd do that?"
"I'd love to," I said. "I'll make something good. You can help me pick out the menu."
She laughed, covering her face with her hands for a moment before peeking through her fingers. "I'm so glad I stopped by. I almost didn't, I figured you and Allan might be busy." She glanced toward the barn door, a knowing look on her face. "Clearly I was right."
I felt my own cheeks heat. "We finished the truck," I said, gesturing at the engine bay. "First time it's turned over since before I moved here."
"That's amazing," she said, hopping off the workbench. "You rebuilt that thing from a pile of rust. You should be proud." She paused, tilting her head. "Saturday, then? I'll text you the details after I hear back from Ellis about a time."
"Perfect," I said.
She gave me a final grin and headed for the door, pausing at the threshold to look back. "And Sabrina? Next time you're in the barn with Allan, maybe lock the door."
I laughed, shaking my head as she disappeared into the evening light. The barn felt quieter without her, the scent of oil and hay settling back in. I ran a hand over the truck's fender, feeling the smooth metal beneath my fingers, and smiled.
Saturday. I had a plan.