Page 7 of Jackrabbit

She deliberated, and he stood still as she took in his bright red sweat pants and too-short t-shirt. Then she nodded and turned back toward the door, and he followed with a big grin.

Beau watched the two of them take several loads of boxes before he opened the door and sat himself on the bench. He plucked up the shining thermos and opened the top, the scent of dark roast curling up into his nose as he took a long drink. It was black, which was Beau’s preference. Especially when the roast was good, which it was.

“You ought to come have breakfast in the diner when we're done, dear,” Joyce was saying as she walked out with Colton on her heels. She picked up a box and handed it to him before grabbing another and stacking it on top. Colton's knees wobbled briefly before he steadied. “I make a very nice omelet, you know. Goat cheese and spinach. You're a strong boy. Bet you need the protein.”

Colton chuckled and waited for her to get a box for herself before following. “That's kind, ma'am, but I kinda have plans.”

Mhmm. Plans like staking out Beau's shop for the foreseeable future, probably.

They took another trip inside, and Xavier’s piece of crap Foxbody rumbled up into employee parking around the back. Two doors shut, and the back door to the shop opened and closed again.

“Morning, boss,” Xavier yawned as he stuck his head out the front. “What’s shakin’? Watching the sunrise? That’s a real old man thing to do.”

“Go inside and start on that Dodge.” Beau crossed one of his arms over his chest and took another drink. The last thing he needed was for these two idiots to see Rourke and lose their minds about it. “Go on, kid.”

“Aye, cap,” James said from behind Xavier. The door shut, and Xavier’s laugh echoed across the lobby.

Colton and Joyce returned thirty seconds after the Xavier left, Colton smiling a charming, dimpled grin as Joyce laughed and patted his shoulder. The driver set down the last load of boxes and tipped his hat at Joyce before driving off.

If there had been a second for him to think about it since Colton had barged into his life, he’d have said the kid probably did sloppy work. If he worked at all.Beau would have guessed that Colton Rourke was the kind of kid who would rather rush through than do a job well. He’d have been dead wrong. Colton was polite and thorough, steady. Patient enough to go at Joyce’s pace. He lifted with his knees and held the boxes at textbook height.

And there was no justification Beau could make. Rourke had no idea he was being watched, no clue that Beau had breakfast at Joyce's diner three times a week. No idea that Beau was connected at all. He'd just seen someone who needed help and done it. The way a good man did, the way a good person did. Which was annoying. Mostly because Beau wanted to shove him into a neat little box and file him away, and the kid was slipping out of the cracks in that box like grease.

Beau stood and leaned against the doorframe as Colton and Joyce took the last boxes inside. When they came back out, Joyce tried to hand Colton some cash. He refused with an easy smile, and she tried to shove it into his pocket. Colton danced out of reach, put his hands in his hair and smiled at her.

“Thanks, but I was happy to do it.” He let go of his hair, leaving it to stick up all over the place as he pulled his hat out of his pocket and tugged at it. “It was a lonely morning for me, and you were great company.”

“Oh, youarea charmer, aren’t you?” Joyce slung an arm around his neck and kissed him square on the cheek. Colton was too busy blushing to notice her hand slipping down to tuck the bills into his pocket. “Don’t let that old grouch over there dim that smile, huh? You were waiting for him. If you’re looking for a job, he takes a good handmade toffee as a bribe.”

Colton turned and caught sight of Beau watching them. His eyes flicked to the coffee in Beau’s hand before he fixed that easy smile on Beau. Hesitant, maybe, dimples half as deep as they’d been when he was smiling at Joyce.

Humming, Beau turned around and walked inside. One foot in the lobby, he looked back to see even that half smile slip. But it ratcheted up by ten when Beau kicked the door fully open and left it that way, sipping his coffee as he headed to the front desk.

Chapter 5

Colt jogged away from Joyce backwards, tossing her a wave and waiting for her to return it before he turned back around and snatched up his coffee cup. He bolted through the door before it decided to snap shut on his ass.

Beau—and Colt hadtriedto switch to Merc, but he’d been saying Beau since he was a kid and couldn’t manage the change—stopped at the front desk and turned on the computer. He didn’t look at Colt at all. Just sipped the coffee Colt had brought him and pulled over a clipboard.

Oh, Colt was so, catastrophically bad at tests. Which this clearly was. Sitting still for any amount of time was something his tutors had spent all his formative years trying to beat into him.

Connor was the only person in his life growing up who hadn’t expected him to.

Beau hadn’t put on his coveralls yet. He was wearing black jeans and an Alice Cooper concert shirt that hugged his broad chest. Dark arm hair peppered with gray over tan, muscular forearms, and—

Whoops.

Nope.

Absolutely the fuck not. That way madness lies.

The clock was fascinating, really, a metal cutout of a classic Mustang backlit in blue. A quiet tap-tap-tap echoed through the lobby. His shoes. Shit. He consciously stilled his tapping feet. God, he could do this. His future relied on whether he could stand still for two fucking minutes.

“Holy shit, it’s that guy from the video!”

The door to the main garage swung open, and a dark skinned guy a few years younger than him popped his head in. There was a gold stud in his left ear and a phone in his hands, and he was staring at Colt like he was one second from asking for an autograph.

“Xavier, get back to work.” Beau’s voice was steady, his eyes fixed on his computer.