As Hot as It Gets
Page 51
Stifling a sigh, Jackson got out and rounded the vehicle. The other three filed out too, loitering near the trunk as Cash opened the compartment that housed the SUV’s spare tire.
Which meant they were all around to hear the very loud, very angry expletive that roared out of Cash’s mouth.
“What’s up?” Frowning, Seth drifted closer and peered into the trunk. “Aw, shit. Are you f**king kidding me, McCoy?”
As everyone crowded around to sneak a peek, Jackson finally released that sigh. The spare tire was flat.
Fuckin’ hell.
“Dude, you’re a United States Navy SEAL,” Seth burst out. “How could you leave the house without checking your spare?”
“I checked it a few days ago,” Cash retorted. “And it was just fine.”
“Clearly not, idiot.”
Mia’s brother raked his hands through his dark hair, looking upset. “Should we call roadside assistance?”
Every man wrinkled his brow.
“What for?” Cash asked in bewilderment.
“Um, to get a tow to a garage so we can fix the tire?”
Cash shrugged. “We passed a bodyshop a while back.”
Now Danny was the confused one. “But that was like six miles ago.”
“Kid, you’re with four guys who can run a four-minute mile. We can get there and back in less than an hour, change the flat, and be at the Irvine field long before kickoff.”
“We?” Seth echoed. “Dream on, bro. Your car, your fault. Later, McCoy.”
Cash’s hopeful blue eyes shifted to Dylan. “Wade, wanna come along?”
“Yeah, right. See ya, Cash.”
“Texas?”
“Heck no.”
Cash’s broad shoulders sagged in defeat. Sighing, he shrugged out of his long-sleeve shirt and tossed it to Dylan. “Here, put this in the car. I don’t want it to get all sweaty.”
“Holy crap, you’re ripped,” Danny said in awe, his green eyes fixed on Cash’s chest.
“And stalling,” Seth added. “Move your ass, McCoy.”
“Fuck. Fine.”
The four of them watched as Cash took off in the direction they’d come from, his scuffed-up Timberlands kicking up dust and gravel as he sprinted away.
“Is he really going to run twelve miles?” Danny exclaimed.
Jackson laughed. “Naah, probably just the six. I’m sure he’ll be able to catch a ride back with someone at the shop.”
They wandered to the side of the vehicle that wasn’t facing the road. As Jackson and Dylan leaned against the SUV, Seth reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Camels.
Danny eyed the black-haired man in disapproval. “You smoke cigarettes?”
“No, I just hold them in my hand to look cool,” Seth cracked as he lit up a smoke and blew a cloud into the early evening air.
The sun hadn’t fully set yet, but it was dipping closer and closer to the horizon, giving the sky a pinkish-yellow glow and reflecting off the orange grove that dominated the landscape about a hundred yards from their car.
They waited around in silence for a few minutes—Seth smoking, Dylan checking his phone, Jackson worrying. Because if he didn’t get Danny to the game on time, Mia would be furious at him. Heck, he’d be furious at himself. He genuinely liked the kid, and he wanted nothing more than for Danny to have a long and successful football career.
But apparently he was more invested in the kid’s athletic future than the kid himself, because Danny didn’t seem to have football on the brain as he approached the three SEALs, his body language conveying nervous reluctance.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
Here we go again.
Jackson suppressed a groan. He’d been dancing this same dance with the boy for days, so he knew all the moves by now.
“Of course,” he said aloud, all the while praying that Danny would finally spit out whatever was on his mind.
Danny’s gaze fixed on the gravel. “It’s kinda personal.”
“Do you want us to leave?” Dylan offered, already starting to move away.
“Naah, it’s cool if you guys stay.” The teen shifted his feet. “Uh, anyway…”
They waited.
He didn’t continue.
Jackson let out the groan he’d been holding back. “Seriously, kid, you’ve gotta stop doin’ that. Just say it alrea—”
“Angie and I are going to have sex this weekend!”
The outburst was followed by crashing silence.
Tread very, very lightly, the voice in Jackson’s head warned.
Shit. He should’ve known this had something to do with sex. Danny was a sixteen-year-old kid with no father figure, and as much as the boy loved his sister, Jackson knew he wouldn’t feel comfortable discussing such an awkward topic with her.
“Okay. Well.” Jackson cleared his throat. “Have you ever slept together before?”
Danny shook his head.
“Have you ever done it at all?”
Another quick shake.
“Okay.” Discomfort climbed up his spine. “Uh…shit, Danny. I can’t give you advice about sex. Your sister would strangle me.”
This time Dylan cleared his throat. Very loudly. “Texas?”
“Yeah?”
“Sidebar.”
Jackson found himself being dragged away by Dylan and Seth, who didn’t speak until they were well out of Danny’s earshot.
Which meant they were all around to hear the very loud, very angry expletive that roared out of Cash’s mouth.
“What’s up?” Frowning, Seth drifted closer and peered into the trunk. “Aw, shit. Are you f**king kidding me, McCoy?”
As everyone crowded around to sneak a peek, Jackson finally released that sigh. The spare tire was flat.
Fuckin’ hell.
“Dude, you’re a United States Navy SEAL,” Seth burst out. “How could you leave the house without checking your spare?”
“I checked it a few days ago,” Cash retorted. “And it was just fine.”
“Clearly not, idiot.”
Mia’s brother raked his hands through his dark hair, looking upset. “Should we call roadside assistance?”
Every man wrinkled his brow.
“What for?” Cash asked in bewilderment.
“Um, to get a tow to a garage so we can fix the tire?”
Cash shrugged. “We passed a bodyshop a while back.”
Now Danny was the confused one. “But that was like six miles ago.”
“Kid, you’re with four guys who can run a four-minute mile. We can get there and back in less than an hour, change the flat, and be at the Irvine field long before kickoff.”
“We?” Seth echoed. “Dream on, bro. Your car, your fault. Later, McCoy.”
Cash’s hopeful blue eyes shifted to Dylan. “Wade, wanna come along?”
“Yeah, right. See ya, Cash.”
“Texas?”
“Heck no.”
Cash’s broad shoulders sagged in defeat. Sighing, he shrugged out of his long-sleeve shirt and tossed it to Dylan. “Here, put this in the car. I don’t want it to get all sweaty.”
“Holy crap, you’re ripped,” Danny said in awe, his green eyes fixed on Cash’s chest.
“And stalling,” Seth added. “Move your ass, McCoy.”
“Fuck. Fine.”
The four of them watched as Cash took off in the direction they’d come from, his scuffed-up Timberlands kicking up dust and gravel as he sprinted away.
“Is he really going to run twelve miles?” Danny exclaimed.
Jackson laughed. “Naah, probably just the six. I’m sure he’ll be able to catch a ride back with someone at the shop.”
They wandered to the side of the vehicle that wasn’t facing the road. As Jackson and Dylan leaned against the SUV, Seth reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Camels.
Danny eyed the black-haired man in disapproval. “You smoke cigarettes?”
“No, I just hold them in my hand to look cool,” Seth cracked as he lit up a smoke and blew a cloud into the early evening air.
The sun hadn’t fully set yet, but it was dipping closer and closer to the horizon, giving the sky a pinkish-yellow glow and reflecting off the orange grove that dominated the landscape about a hundred yards from their car.
They waited around in silence for a few minutes—Seth smoking, Dylan checking his phone, Jackson worrying. Because if he didn’t get Danny to the game on time, Mia would be furious at him. Heck, he’d be furious at himself. He genuinely liked the kid, and he wanted nothing more than for Danny to have a long and successful football career.
But apparently he was more invested in the kid’s athletic future than the kid himself, because Danny didn’t seem to have football on the brain as he approached the three SEALs, his body language conveying nervous reluctance.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
Here we go again.
Jackson suppressed a groan. He’d been dancing this same dance with the boy for days, so he knew all the moves by now.
“Of course,” he said aloud, all the while praying that Danny would finally spit out whatever was on his mind.
Danny’s gaze fixed on the gravel. “It’s kinda personal.”
“Do you want us to leave?” Dylan offered, already starting to move away.
“Naah, it’s cool if you guys stay.” The teen shifted his feet. “Uh, anyway…”
They waited.
He didn’t continue.
Jackson let out the groan he’d been holding back. “Seriously, kid, you’ve gotta stop doin’ that. Just say it alrea—”
“Angie and I are going to have sex this weekend!”
The outburst was followed by crashing silence.
Tread very, very lightly, the voice in Jackson’s head warned.
Shit. He should’ve known this had something to do with sex. Danny was a sixteen-year-old kid with no father figure, and as much as the boy loved his sister, Jackson knew he wouldn’t feel comfortable discussing such an awkward topic with her.
“Okay. Well.” Jackson cleared his throat. “Have you ever slept together before?”
Danny shook his head.
“Have you ever done it at all?”
Another quick shake.
“Okay.” Discomfort climbed up his spine. “Uh…shit, Danny. I can’t give you advice about sex. Your sister would strangle me.”
This time Dylan cleared his throat. Very loudly. “Texas?”
“Yeah?”
“Sidebar.”
Jackson found himself being dragged away by Dylan and Seth, who didn’t speak until they were well out of Danny’s earshot.
