Chapter 9: The garage.

Chapter 9: The garage.

The sign above the huge brick structure said C and T mechanics. The wood was painted with spray paint, and as Tennessee parked, Paxton thought the handmade sign didn't fit how new, clean, and modern the garage appeared.

Getting out of the truck, Paxton stared at the three wide garage doors that were up and exposed the interior. In every stall of the place, vehicles were parked and waiting. In the first spot, an older Ford pickup sat up on a hydraulic lift. In the next stall, with its hood open, sat a brand new bright yellow corvette. In the last work area sat an old gold-colored Buick that had seen better days. Uncle Cletus sat next to the tire on the left side of the Buick, and his head snapped up as they approached. He came to his feet as Paxton and Tennessee got out of the truck.

"Took ya long enough," the old man grumbled at Tennessee. "Did ya get the parts I asked fer? Yer slower than molasses in January."

"Quit yer belly-achin', old man." Tennessee turned to the truck and grabbed a bag out of the cab. "I got what ya wanted, but they didn't have all the bolts. I gotta go again tomorrow. They ordered it, though."

"Ah heck. I guess we can do that tomorrow then." Uncle Cletus took the plastic bag and then glanced at Paxton. "Ya wanna take yer boy home? Ya ain't need to finish the vet right now."

"I'm good here. I can stay if you have to work." Paxton entered the garage to the left of the Buick and leaned against a small round wooden table. Beyond the table piled with old magazines and newspapers, he noted a little fridge with plastic bags sitting on top. Next to that was a door with a frosted window that stated that the room was the office.

"I'm hungry." Tennessee strolled to the fridge and peeked in the bags. "We got anythin' in here? Ain't ya hungry?" he asked Paxton.

"Not really. I ate this morning. It was only you that pushed food around your plate." Paxton shook his head while Tennessee opened the fridge and pulled out a sandwich and a plastic container.

"Ginger make these? Did she bring ya peach cobbler?" Tennessee asked Cletus. "She's smitten with Cletus," Tennessee whispered to Paxton. "Ya should see her flirt with him. It's cute."

"She made all that fer the both of us, and she ain't smitten with me." Cletus turned back to the Buick. "I just help her with her car, is all, and she likes to cook."

"Sure." Tennessee chuckled between bites and then looked at Paxton. "I really should finish the vet, but I can take ya home first unless ya wanna walk. The house is just up the road about half a mile. I'm sure ya ain't wanna be sittin' round here for the rest of the afternoon."

"No, really, this is fine. Get your work done." Paxton grinned. Then, to his surprise, he realized he actually wanted to sit around this garage. He liked Tennessee. The sexy mountain man made him feel safe, and being near him had Paxton's heart lighter. Although Paxton didn't understand the phenomenon, he still accepted the feeling. He never thought about someone the way he thought about Tennessee. It was sexual, but it also wasn't. Tennessee was so much more than his hot body and melting southern accent. The man was kind and full of patience and giving, and well… Paxton didn't know men like him existed.

"Welp, child, if yer gonna stay, then ya can help me." Uncle Cletus pointed to the Buick. "Get in the driver's seat, and when I tell ya to push on the brakes, ya push. Got it?"

"Sure." Paxton got into the car, and after a few seconds of watching him, Tennessee leaned over the corvette and started working.

Paxton wasn't sure how much time passed as he helped Cletus work on the car. He did what he considered odd things like holding the break down or pumping the pedal, but whatever he did, Cletus seemed pleased. He even muttered thanks, and that put a smile on Paxton's face. When Cletus would nod his appreciation at Paxton, Tennessee would slightly grin. Paxton decided he would work here every day if he could see Tennessee smile like that.

Hours later, when Tennessee straightened from his bent position over the car, he glanced at the clock above the office door and gave a low whistle.

"I reckon I'm 'bout done." Tennessee closed the hood of the corvette and used his shirt to dab the sweat on his face. The action showed off his formed abs, and Paxton studied the steering wheel to keep from getting a hardon. "We need to call Jerry and tell him that his vet is ready to be picked up." Tennessee wiped off grease from his hands and then cleaned a few smudges on the car hood. "Cletus, will ya call? I wanna head out and make dinner fer Pax and me. He asked fer biscuits."

"No," Cletus muttered under the hood of the Buick. "I'm workin'. You call."

"Her car ain't even broke," Tennessee muttered. "Ginger only brung it here so she can see ya. Come on. Call Jerry fer me?"

"No." Cletus faced Tennessee and waved for Paxton to get out of the car. "Get over it."

"What's wrong with calling him?" Paxton asked as he closed the car door and came to Tennessee's side. "Is this Jerry guy a jerk?"

"He ain't a jerk." Cletus chuckled. "Jerry's smart and lives in a fancy house way up on the mountain. It's his summer place, and Tennessee here is all—"

"I ain't all nothin'," Tennessee interrupted. "I just ain't like callin' is all."

"Tennessee is embarrassed," Cletus scoffed. "He thinks he ain't smart or somethin' 'cause Jerry is a retired English professor."

"That ain't true."

"How come you'll call Harry when his jeep is here?" Cletus asked. "He's just as rich. Richer, I think, and his house is bigger."

"Because Harry ain't an ass," Tennessee grumbled.

"Yes, he is." Cletus laughed. "Now, get over it and call. Jerry's money is as green as everyone else's."

"He don't understand my accent, even when I try to talk good." Tennessee's eyes caught Paxton's for a second, and Paxton saw the shame that Cletus was talking about earlier. Tennessee thought he wasn't enough. Paxton knew that feeling all too well, and he hated seeing that discomfiture in Tennessee's eyes. The man was so great, and he should never feel like he wasn't good enough.

"I'll call him for you." Paxton glanced from one man to the other.

"Ya will?" Tennessee's eyes lit up, and Paxton had the feeling that he would walk to the end of the earth simply to see that expression on Tennessee's face.

"Why am I not surprised," Cletus said dryly.

"I can do it." Paxton nodded at the office. "I think most big garages have secretaries or assistants or receptionists. I can call and pretend I work for the place. I can sound professional. What do you want me to say?"

"Don't need to pretend ya work here." Uncle Cletus grabbed an oil-covered rag. "You've been workin' fer us all day. I say ya do work here."

"Can ya say that the vet is ready, and he can pick it up tomorrow? I wouldn't even work fer him, but he does pay good." Tennessee shrugged.

"Damn right he does." Cletus slammed the hood of the Buick. "Don't be lookin' a gift horse in the mouth. That man has money, and if he wants to spend it on his flashy car, we'll help him do that." Cletus turned to Paxton. "I don't think you should be savin' Tennessee's butt, but if yer gonna call Jerry, the number is in the office. It's on the board in the back. The phone is on the desk."

Paxton caught the grateful look in Tennessee's eyes before he turned toward the office door. Paxton refrained from saying that he would love to do all sorts of things to Tennessee's butt, including and not limited to saving it. At the last minute, he held his tongue and grabbed the doorknob. He had to not think about Tennessee like that. They were friends, and Paxton refused to screw that up in absolutely any way.

Paxton opened the office entrance and stopped dead in his tracks. The room looked like a tornado had gone through the center. He stepped around a pile of papers and made it to the desk. The wooden top was covered. The phone wasn't even visible. On a second desk sat a computer. That work area was cleaner, but not by much. On the back wall was a corkboard covered in scraps of papers and about a million push pins.

After grabbing Jerry's number, Paxton squeezed past an open and empty filing cabinet and to the desk.

"Tennessee said ya might need help findin' the number." Cletus appeared in the doorway.

"I found it, but what happened here?" Paxton asked as he pushed papers aside to get to the phone.

"We had a young girl who worked fer us filing and sortin' and keepin' the office goin', but she skedaddled when she figured out that Tennessee wasn't gonna give her the time of day. She ain't have the right parts fer him if ya know what I mean. If he were goin' to diddle with his secretary, he'd want someone like ya."

That last sentence caused warm shivers to go down his spine, but Paxton would not touch that sentence with a ten-foot pole. He cleared his throat.

"And she trashed the place when she left?" Paxton scooped up a pile of old invoices from different part dealers and concentrated on the mess instead of Tennessee doing him in his office. "This looks like she had…."

"An ax to grind?" Cletus popped a piece of gum in his mouth and threw the wrapper on the floor. "Welp, she ain't leave it all too neat, and that was a year ago. I just put stuff where I can find a place fer it."

"And the filing cabinet isn't the place for it?"

"Who has time fer that?" Cletus scoffed.

"I have time for that." Paxton was getting an eye twitch just looking at the chaos. It wasn't that he was a neat freak, but how could they work like this? "Would it be okay if I put something away?"

"Sure, do whatever ya want. Put it all away." Cletus shrugged. "But call Jerry first."

Paxton nodded. As soon as he told the man his car was ready, Paxton would straighten this disorder. His life might be a disaster, and his feelings for Tennessee were out of control, but damn if he didn't like the idea of working on something. This disarray he could fix. It would be the one thing that was going to be straightened around. Paxton might have no idea what he was doing with his life, but he was sure he could put an office together.