Page 32 of Swift and Saddled

Yeah, that piece of shit needed more work than it was worth, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “I need Brooks to look at it too. He’s better with cars than I am,” I explained. “But from what I can tell, it’s misfiring”—I laughed a little because this next part was going to sound like I was making it up, especially if she knew anything about cars—“in every single cylinder.” The odds that all parts of her engine had something wrong with it were low, but somehow, her car had managed it.

It was kind of impressive, actually.

Ada made a face. “Are you serious?” she said.

I put my hand on my heart. “I promise I am. You need a new battery too.”And who knows what else.

“Okay, well, I need a car to do my job, so if you can’t fix it, I need to find someone who can.” Her speech felt rehearsed. I wondered how long she’d been thinking about this.

“When it comes to cars, you’re not going to find anyone more capable than Brooks.” Which was true. When we were thirteen, he found his old Chevy truck at the junkyard. Theowner told Brooks that if he could get it running, he could have it.

He did. And proceeded to drive that truck for over a decade.

“I need a car, Wes,” Ada asserted again.

“Then I’ll get you a car,” I said simply.

“You’re not getting me a car,” she scoffed. Her eyes fell to the floor again and she started tapping her foot.

“Well…do you have another idea?” I asked.

She took a deep breath and then sat on the other end of the couch that I was on. “I want you”—she paused, and I wished she could’ve ended her sentence right there—“to teach me to drive a stick. Like actually teach me. Not that flirty bullshit you did when you drove me to town.” I smiled at the memory of my hand atop hers.

“That wasn’t flirty bullshit,” I said. Ada arched one of her black eyebrows at me. “Okay, fine,” I conceded. “It was flirty, but it was also teaching. It’s easier to do it on the driver’s side once you know what it feels like.”

“Whatever, cowboy.” She shook her head. “So will you teach me or not?”

“I’ll teach you,” I said, trying not to make it obvious that I would’ve gotten down on my knees and begged her to let me. “On one condition,” I added.

Ada rolled her eyes. “What’s the condition?”

“You have to talk to me, Ada. You can’t avoid me like you’ve been doing since you got here. You have this idea of me in your head—which I’m willing to bet isn’t accurate—based onthatnight. I don’t think that’s fair, and in order for me toprove you wrong, you have to talk to me.” Damn, I was on a roll. “That’s my condition.”

Ada bit her lip, and now my eyes were on her mouth. Goddammit, why did she have to be so…her. So everything.

After a moment, she said, “Fine.” It wasn’t exactly the enthusiastic response I was looking for, but for Ada, I’d take it. “When do we start?”

Chapter 14

Ada

“Of all the battles to fight, you’re going to fight to keep the pink and yellow bathroom tile?” Evan asked. We were standing in the main powder room of the house, and Evan was looking at me with an expression that was somehow both amused and bored.

“Yes,” I said simply. “And I’m going to fight for the powder-blue tile in the primary bedroom en suite too.”

“Of course you are.” Evan sighed.

“Of course I am.” Since I started taking on actual design projects, I’d always done my best to restore rather than demolish when I could. When I started at Rebel Blue, I didn’t know how much we could salvage, considering how long the house had been vacant, but thanks to the Ryders’ maintenance schedule, the elements had largely been kept out of the house. Animals were a different story, even though I thought we had those managed at this point. Now the inside of the house, after our barebones demo, looked great.

I was bummed that we would have to do new floors. The current ones were in bad shape—probably more fromhaving housed generations of a single family than from being abandoned for the last thirty years.

I made a mental note to see if there was any way that we could reuse them. I already knew I had enough wood from the old doors to create two large bookshelves for the living area.

“It’s a miracle there aren’t any leaks under this floor,” Evan said. He was right. After inspection on both this level and the straight-out-of-a-horror-movie basement, we hadn’t found leaks in any of the bathrooms—no mold, no water damage, nothing. There was water damage in the kitchen, though. We had already planned to rip that out completely anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

“And who are we to question a miracle?” I asked.

Evan rolled his eyes. “Your boyfriend is here,” he said. “You better ask him.” I gave Evan the dirtiest look I could muster, which must’ve been a good one because he shrank back from my gaze.

---