Page 8 of Wild Christmas
I walk over, taking it as an invitation to join him. I crouch next to Nate and look at the phone he’s holding. He scrolls back a bit and plays the video again.
A man holds a part to a Harley, the same model as what Nate has. As he talks about the importance of not getting too much grease on the part, a toddler appears in the background. The kid waves to the camera, then pulls a funny face. The man has no idea the kid is there and keeps talking while the kid continues to smile and wave at the camera.
Soon the kid is joined by what I assume is his younger sister. She crawls into the garage behind the man and stares at the camera with a baffled expression on her face. Finally the guy realizes there’s a show going on behind him and turns to his kids. They laugh and scamper away while their dad tries to catch them.
It’s funny, and I laugh alongside Nate while the man in the video calmly gets back to his instructional video.
“I like this guy, Josh.” Nate pauses the video. “His kids are always getting in the way. It’s funny. It’s real.”
He shows me another snippet of a video where the boy keeps running through the video pushing a firetruck while Josh does his best to keep going. Nate’s doubled up laughing, and I guess it’s relatable from one dad to another.
Nate sets his phone down so it’s leaning against the toolbox and picks up the part that looks similar to what Josh, the guy in the video, was holding.
He frowns at the part and inserts it under the engine of his bike. “I think that’s where it goes.”
“Don’t you have a bike shop at your motorcycle club headquarters?”
“Yup.” Nate twists the part, frowns some more, and pulls it out and looks at it. “Give me any laptop, computer, or electronic and I’ll fix that for you. But don’t ask me to do DIY, and don’t ask me to fix your car.”
“Why don’t you take it to the shop?”
He wipes his hands on a greasy rag. “I can’t admit to the guys I can’t fix my own bike. If it needs serious repairs, I’ll take it in. But a tune up I should be able to do myself.”
Sounds like man logic to me, but I don’t say anything.
“Besides, I’ve got Josh.” He indicates his phone. “Aside from being entertaining, he’s incredibly informative. I’ve learned everything I need to know about bike mechanics from this guy.”
He gets up off the floor, and I stand up too. Our armsbrush as we stand up together, and a bolt of heat shoots through me. I gasp and grip my arm, wondering if he felt it too. But when I glance up at him his expression is neutral, and when he speaks, he’s lost the friendliness from a few moments ago. “Did you want to see me about something?”
I crash back down to earth. It’s a reminder that we definitely aren’t friends. He’s my employer, and sharing a laugh over a YouTube video isn’t going to change that.
“I picked up some supplies for decorating tomorrow.” He look confused. “You know, for Christmas.”
He frowns. “Is it the first of December tomorrow?”
I hope he’s not going to change this mind; the girls will be gutted if he does. “We’re making streamers, and there is definitely no glitter or cotton wool.” I rattle on before he can stop me. “Do you want to join us for the decorating?”
He runs the rag over a grease spot on his hand, frowning at it when it doesn’t rub off.
“No. I said I’d stop by the club tomorrow and check the servers. They need an update, and Sunday is a good time to do it.”
“Okay.” I try not to let the disappointment show in my voice.
“I’m just going to leave the supplies in the lounge for the night, if that’s okay?”
“Sure.” A ghost of a smile plays across his lips. “I like things clean, but I’m not a tyrant, Freya.”
The way he says my names makes a shiver dance down my spine. His fingers brush my shoulder, and my breathing quickens.
“You’ve got a hair…”
I glance up, and Nate’s staring at me intensely. His gaze darts to my lips, and I know without a doubt he wants to kiss me.
“Can we watch it again?” Dora comes bounding into the garage followed by her little sister. I turn toward the door as Nate turns away.
“You can watch one more movie, but not that same one. Pick something different.”
“Will you watch too, Daddy?” she asks mournfully. “Please…”
