Chapter 10: Ribs.

Chapter 10: Ribs.

Paxton stood in front of the calendar he’d mounted in the office three weeks ago. He flipped a pen through his fingers as he read the notes on the invoices and took off old unnecessary messages from the corkboard next to it. After checking the dates, he jotted down when the parts would be in and when they were ordered. This system seemed to work the best for Cletus. Paxton hated when the man tossed open the office door and trashed the filing cabinets looking for when a part was supposed to be delivered to the garage. The old man had no sense of time.

Paxton liked the way Tennessee asked about the auto parts. The sexy mountain man would cook with him, and then over warm cozy dinners together, Tennessee would gaze lovingly into Paxton’s eyes before he stammered out the question of when a part was supposed to show up.

Just thinking about all the nights longing for Tennessee had Paxton sighing like a love-sick teen. He shook himself. He had to get over Tennessee, but every day the attraction seemed to be getting worse, not better.

Deciding that work would keep his mind off the sexy mechanic in the other room, Paxton finished his notes and then dusted off his neatly organized desk. After turning down the country music on the radio, he threw old papers in the trash. When that was done, he vacuumed and then sat at the computer.

Paxton had just finished an email to Cindy at Guy’s Auto Parts when the door to the office opened with a bang. For the first time in weeks, Paxton didn’t jump. He must be getting used to Cletus.

“Whoo-ee boy, this office is the cleanest place in the garage.” The old man threw himself into the second chair across from the desk. “We should get ya a nameplate on the door.”

“I don’t need a nameplate.” Paxton spun in his office chair and grinned. The office was neat as a pin, but a nameplate was the last thing the garage needed. “If you want to buy something for this place, let me order that new sign for the garage. That spray-painted one isn’t professional. Did you look at the quote I gave you?”

“Fine.” Cletus rolled his eyes and popped a piece of gum in his mouth. “But I’m takin’ it out of yer pay.”

“You can do that.” Paxton laughed. “But I hate to break it to you. You don’t pay me.”

“We should.” Cletus paused from throwing his gum wrapper on the floor. His eyes met Paxton’s before he leaned over and tossed the paper in the trash can.

“I wanna go home early.” Tennessee marched into the office and then tossed his big frame into the wooden chair in the corner of the room. His sigh was strong enough to knock the desk over and mess up the office that Paxton had painstakingly cleaned.

“You’re the boss.” Paxton grinned and then noted Tennessee’s sour expression. The man had been grumpy all day, but Paxton had no idea why. They had breakfast this morning like usual, and Paxton helped with the dishes. In fact, this morning, Paxton had told Tennessee how happy he was working here and how glad he was that Tennessee was his friend. He frowned. After they talked, they walked to work, and then Tennessee started on a Chevy right away. The man didn’t say much over lunch, even when Ginger brought a peach cobbler. Whatever was up with Tennessee, Paxton didn’t see anything that stood out today as being off. They were getting along well… at least that’s what Paxton thought.

“Yeah, I’m yer boss,” Tennessee grumbled. “And yer friend.”

Before Paxton could ask what that meant, Tennessee’s phone started to ring, and he yanked the cell out of his pocket. Frowning at the screen, Tennessee pressed the button to make the phone go silent and shoved it back in his pocket.

“You ready to go?” Tennessee snapped.

His sharp words even had Cletus standing and turning to look at him.

“Who licked the red off yer candy, boy?”

“Is something wrong?” Paxton asked.

“Nothin’ wrong.” Tennessee sank lower in his chair. “I’m tired.”

“Let me put this away, and then we can go home.” Paxton crossed the office and grabbed the neatly organized stack of papers off the desk. After he had the documents in the right cabinet drawers, he scratched off the names on his call list and cleaned the coffee maker.

“Yeah. Our home.” Tennessee’s eyes tracked him, and he seemed in a thunderstorm mood, but the man didn’t say anything more. Instead, his phone rang again, and he silenced it for the second time.

“Pax, before ya go, tell me when the parts from Nelson Auto gonna get here?” Cletus strode to the calendar. “I thought ya said it was this week?”

“Yes. It was supposed to be here yesterday. I checked, and it says shipped, but I think we’ll have to wait until Monday.” Paxton put his pens away in the holder next to his container of push pins. “If they don’t show up on Saturday, I’ll call and see what happened. It could be that the carrier is slow. In my experiences so far, Nelson Auto has always shipped on time.”

“Whoo-ee, boy.” Cletus grinned at him. “I don’t know how we got along without ya. Right, Tennessee?”

Paxton smiled at Cletus, but his smile fell when he looked at Tennessee. The man was sinking into his chair with an even darker scowl.

“What’s wrong with ya?” Cletus asked. “The chevy givin’ ya trouble? I told ya that the belt is cracked.”

“Nothin’ wrong. Can we get out of here?” Right as the words were out of Tennessee’s mouth, Paxton heard a reverberating yell from the front of the garage. Doors slammed, and a man called out for Tennessee. A second man yelled right after the first.

“Ain’t that dandy,” Tennessee groaned from his chair. “Just what I need right now.”

“Tennessee?” Someone called again right before two young men and a young woman appeared in the office.

“Lordy, Tennessee. You finally cleaned it up in here.” The first man who spoke was tall like Tennessee but with even bigger muscles. He wore colossal cowboy boots and a white button-down shirt so clean that Paxton thought he needed sunglasses to stare directly at it.

“Why aren’t ya answerin’ yer phone?” the young girl spoke next. The twenty-something woman tossed her heavy mane of brunette hair over her shoulder and leaned her hip against the wall.

“It broke or somethin’?” A second man marched past the first. This tall, lanky redhead set his ass on the desk. “Howdy, Cletus.” After his quick appraisal of Uncle Cletus, his eyes shot to Paxton. The man did a once over before tipping his head back at Tennessee.

“What’re y’all up to?” Cletus asked.

“We wanna go to the rib cook-off fer Tennessee’s birthday,” the woman said as she hooked her thumbs into the belt loops of her skimpy denim shorts. As she spoke, she studied Paxton as if it just now dawned on her that he was in the room.

At the word birthday, Tennessee sunk lower in his chair.

“I ain’t up fer it.” Tennessee sighed one of his big sighs again.

“It’s your birthday?” Paxton asked before he thought better of it. All the people in the room now looked at Paxton.

“It ain’t Tennessee’s birthday.” Cletus used a thumb to point at the calendar. “That’s at the end of the month.”

“We know that, but the rib cook-off is tonight,” the redhead explained. “It’s at the Red Owl Distillery. Supposed to be a big shindig, and Jim’s gonna be cookin’. I got me a hankerin’ fer good ribs.”

“Yeah, and everyone has things at the end of the month, so we had to do somethin’ now. We said we’d go.” The young woman gave a pointed look at Tennessee. “Come on, Tennessee. You said you’d go. We haven’t seen ya in a coon’s age.”

“Ya said you’d go.” Mr. White-Shirt agreed with the woman. “I’ll buy you a shot of whisky. You look like ya could use one.”

“If you want, I can go home on my own. I can walk.” Paxton grabbed his hoodie off the back of the office chair and tried to squeeze past the room full of people. Maybe Tennessee was not speaking to him because of this situation. The man might be slumping in his chair with his surly attitude because he didn’t want Paxton to meet his friends. That made sense. Paxton was a hooker and a gay man. Those two items would be the kind of things that would make people uncomfortable. Tennessee slumping in the chair might mean he didn’t want Paxton to meet anyone in town. That was probably why he was trying to get Paxton to go home early. Now Paxton realized that they probably didn’t know Tennessee was gay.

“Home?” the man in the cowboy boots raised one dark eyebrow. “And where-in would that be?”

Paxton bit his bottom lip. Poor choice of words.

“I… um…”

“Paxton.” Tennessee rolled out of his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “These are a few of my friends. That’s Rusty,” Paxton gestured to the thin redhead, and Paxton decided that would be easy to remember. “And that’s Gunner.” He pointed to the tall, muscled dude with the dazzling white shirt. “And that’s Mary-Jo.”

The small woman grinned and stuck out her hand.

“Nice to meet ya. Any friend of Tennessee’s is a friend of mine.” Her handshake was quick, but her eyes drilled into him the entire time.

“Paxton is stayin’ at my house.” Tennessee’s words were almost belligerent, like he wanted one of them to argue the situation.

“Then he should come with us. No point in leavin’ ya at home twiddlin’ yer thumbs.” Gunner grinned. “Ya like ribs?”

“Who don’t like ribs?” Rusty asked.

“Ribs are fine.” Paxton gave a quick look at Tennessee, who rolled his eyes.

“Them-there ribs is the best ’round. Jim’s cookin’ this year, and the Red Owl makes the smoothest whiskey in these here parts.”

“And Huck’s band is playin’, and boy-howdy are they good.” Mary-Jo tucked her hand into the crook of Rusty’s arm. “We can dance, right?”

“I ain’t dancin’, ask Gunner.” Rusty pushed her hand away.

“Do ya like ta dance?” Mary-Jo asked Paxton, and he was at a loss. Tennessee still seemed annoyed, and he didn’t know what to do. His fitting-in teachings saved him at the last minute, and he offered her a warm smile.

“Yes, I can dance, and I would never leave a beautiful woman needing a dance partner.”

“Welp now, ain’t ya a smooth talker,” she giggled. “Yer comin’ with us. I said so.”

“If Mary-Jo says so, it’s happenin’.” Gunner grinned at Tennessee.

Paxton looked to Tennessee for confirmation, and the man shrugged. Did that mean he wanted him there or not?

“I’ll let yer dogs out and feed ’em on my way home.” Cletus headed to the office door. “Y’all have fun.”

After Cletus was gone, Paxton followed the group to Gunner’s pickup truck. The vehicle had a crew cab, and Gunner hopped into the driver’s seat. Mary-Jo sat in the middle with Rusty as the passenger. That left Paxton in the back seat next to a still sullen Tennessee. Even though there was only a little space between them, Paxton could feel the frost coming off Tennessee like he was directly next to an iceberg. He hoped this trip to the rib cook-off wouldn’t hurt their friendship. Of course, at the same time, he didn’t know how to get out of this. He should have never told Mary-Jo that he could dance.