Or a slob.
The familiar tug of nerves tried to claw its way up his throat. Damn it, not this time. This time he’d have a date with a nice, pretty girl, and he wouldn’t fuck it up. He wouldn’t.
Feeling defiant, he turned into the driveway and parked in the standalone garage next to Grandpa’s Benz. Dad’s car was gone, but it was only five thirty, and it was tax season.
He unloaded the truck and carried everything to the workshop at the back of the garage Dad had set up for him as a reward for starting his business. They didn’t need room for six cars, and Kyle enjoyed the quiet the workshop gave him.
Kyle took his time cleaning his tools, bending at the waist every so often to stretch the kinks from his back. Where had Faith been all day? Her car was there when he started work, but gone when he went to lunch, and still gone when he stopped for the day. Had she decided to back out of their date and hidden instead?
His stomach clenched again. Good-bye, defiance—now he was nervous.
He wiped his damp hands on his filthy jeans and loaded his tools back into the Toyota. The truck was sloppy with mud and dead plant matter. No way he could show up for a date in it, even if he wanted to, just to stop being a jackass poseur for a minute. However, on the other side of the garage, the Charger gleamed in the fluorescent light. A smile spread across his face. He didn’t remember it being so clean this morning when he left for work. Kyle might be a poseur, but his grandpa knew what impressed the ladies.
“I’m home!” he hollered from the mudroom after kicking his mud-caked boots off by the door.
“In here!” Grandpa’s voice came from the kitchen.
Kyle went to the fridge. Grandpa was sitting at the table, reading glasses perched at the end of his nose. He was reading one of those men’s magazines—the article read “Get Shredded in Thirty Days.”
Kyle swallowed a laugh. “Thinking about working out?”
Grandpa snorted. “I don’t understand a word of this. In my day, you ran two miles, did forty sit-ups, forty push-ups, twenty pull-ups, and called it good. This here says I’m supposed to have a chest day, a leg day, an arm and shoulders day. Who has the time?”
“Uh, you? You are retired, you know.”
“Poppycock. You take a look at the Charger?”
He smiled. “Yeah. Thanks for having her washed.”
“Hey, can’t take a lady for a ride around town in a dirty car, son. This tells her she’s special.” The corner of Grandpa’s mouth twitched. “And I’m assuming that’s true since you sat through the whole musical last night.”
“And I’ve had that Kansas City song stuck in my head since.” He took a swig from his water bottle. “Drove me nuts.”
“Those men could dance back then.” Grandpa’s tone was approving. “Hmm, wonder if your date is a girl who just cain’t say no?”
Kyle’s ears flamed up. “Jesus, Grandpa. I’m not dating Ado Annie.”
“Well, I can hope, right?” His grin softened. “You’re a good kid. You got more of me than your Daddy in you, so naturally I believe that. Don’t let yourself get in the way tonight, and this Faith girl will see it, too.”
“I know.” He toyed with his bottle cap. “It’s just been a while since I tried this hard.”
“And you’ve been lonely.” Grandpa’s sigh was heavy. “I know I’m partly at fault for that, but maybe it’s time to let your guard down a little.”
Kyle’s palms grew slick with sweat. “Maybe.”
“It’ll be fine. Hear me? You’re okay, kid. You are. That incident before ninth grade with what’s her name from camp? That’s history.”
“You call it an incident, I call it a crash and burn.” Kyle could still remember Cara’s face when he took her for a moonlit stroll down to the canoe dock and made his move so badly she wouldn’t speak to him again. “The last time I tried to kiss a girl, she fell into a lake.”
“So? That girl moved on. You need a fresh start.” Grandpa squeezed his shoulder. “All right, heart-to-heart over. Go hit the shower. You have a girl to woo.”
The memory of Cara coming up from the water, spluttering curses, was too much to take, so he joked it away. “Woo? Who even says that anymore?”
Grandpa glared at him. “You can impress her. Take it a step at a time.”
He rolled his eyes. “We’ll see.”
The Charger’s engine always growled before he cut the ignition, and a curtain cracked open at the front of Faith’s house. No turning back now—they knew he was here. Kyle pulled his cell phone from his pocket. One text: All set. South door open. Casey knows you’re coming.