Zane absolutely did not have time for this.
He rarely had time for anything, actually, and hadn't for the last five years. Ever since his wife had left him, suddenly and unexpectedly, he'd more or less been in survival mode. His coworkers urged him to try getting out of the house, go out and meet someone, but he always brushed them off. He had more important things to do. His life was a tightly-scheduled blur of work, traffic, cooking, shopping, and errands. That was probably the only reason he hadn't completely fallen apart and gone to the dogs after Becky walked away—that, and the fact that he had an important reason to keep going. He didn't have time to meet someone new. He didn't have time to socialize. He didn't have time to break down.
He definitely didn't have time for a flat tire.
Biting his lip, he got carefully to one knee and examined the tire. It wasn't just low, it was outright flat, the rim resting against the ground—how the hell had it gotten this bad? There was no way Zane could drive on it. Calling a tow truck would take at least half an hour, and he really didn't have the time to wait for the truck and get to the tire shop and get it fixed before he had to be somewhere. He'd have to put the spare on, and he knew it was a doughnut, not a full-size spare. And he was wearing one of his better suits.
Suddenly, he remembered something else. He couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as he leaned his arm against the car and propped his forehead against it.
“Need a hand?”
Startled, Zane looked up, shielding his eyes against the light to see a man half-frowning down at him. The man wore running shoes, shorts, and a t-shirt with a picture of a salt shaker holding aloft a sword as it stood over a decapitated pepper mill next to the words A SALT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON.
If nothing else, Zane warmed to him for the pun.
“I just—flat tire,” he said, a little helplessly as he gestured at the tire.
The man cocked his head to one side. “Got a spare?”
“Yeah, but the problem is I loaned my jack to a coworker last week and it's just occurred to me that I don't think I got it back.” Zane probably could have called Perrimore for a rescue, but it would take him just as long as a tow truck to get there. Assuming he wasn't busy.
“That's not an issue. You can use mine.”
Zane raised an eyebrow. The man looked like he'd been out for a run, and since there wasn't a gym in this shopping complex—despite there being just about everything else, hence why it was so crowded—that rather narrowed down the places he could have been running. He bit back his initial comment, though. The man probably hadn't meant it as an innuendo, and even if he had, Zane probably didn't have time for that, either.
Probably.
The man made a “wait here” gesture and jogged over to a truck Zane had noticed when he'd first arrived at the grocery store, a Ford of some kind with stickers plastered all over the back. After rummaging around in the back for a minute, he returned with a bright red jack and started to present it to Zane, then paused and eyed him. “Actually, that suit looks expensive. Here, let me.”
He dropped fluidly to his knees, then slid the jack into place before Zane could stop him. Since there wasn't any point in arguing now, he shrugged and went to get the doughnut out of the trunk.
He really shouldn't have been surprised when the man, who had the lug nuts half-loosened by the time he got back, plucked the doughnut out of his hands and eyeballed it. “Jesus, this thing's half-rotten. Where'd you get it?”
“It came with the car.” Zane had been lucky, actually, that he hadn't needed it before now, but at the same time it meant he hadn't realized what kind of shape it was in. “It's fine, it'll get me where I need to go.”
“You hope. Hang on.” The man finished removing the tire, waving Zane off when he tried to help, and quickly and efficiently installed the doughnut. He lowered the car back to the ground. Zane couldn't help but wince at the way the doughnut sagged at the car's weight.
The man's lips twisted to one side. “I don't know about this. Tell you what, where were you planning to go?”
Zane shrugged. “Wherever's nearest.”
“There's a place a few miles up the road.” The man waved a hand in the opposite direction of where Zane was theoretically heading, but he chose not to mention that. “I'll follow you to make sure you get there okay, and I might be able to get you a good deal on a new tire and a decent spare. Buddy of mine owns the place.”
“How much is this going to cost me?” Zane asked.
“Shouldn't be more than a hundred for both tires.”
“I meant your assistance. What do I owe you?”
The man gave Zane a charming smile. “Cup of coffee?”
Zane couldn't help but return the smile. It was awfully attractive. For all his arguments that he didn't have time…“I think that can be managed.”
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting at a small table in front of the coffee shop next door to the tire shop. The bays had been full, but the owner had promised the car would be ready within half an hour, so they'd gone to get the cup of coffee. Zane took the lid off his cup and instantly knew he'd found a new favorite place to stop, even if it was a bit out of his way most days.
“So,” the man said, drawing out the single syllable. “Garrett, huh?”
Zane was momentarily confused, then remembered he'd given his surname to the owner. “My last name. First name's Zane. What's yours?”
The man hesitated. “I'm Ty Grady. It's nice to meet you, Zane.”
“Nice to meet you, too. And thank you for the assist.”
“No problem. Glad to help.” Ty took a sip of his drink.
Zane studied him over the rim of his coffee cup. He had a heart-shaped face, hazel eyes framed with long lashes, and dark brown hair worn short. He'd also pulled on a pair of jeans somewhere between the parking lot and the tire shop and shrugged into a leather jacket over the t-shirt. He was, without a doubt, a very good-looking man, and Zane felt a flicker of something for the first time in five years.
As the thought was passing through his mind, Ty cocked his head at Zane, like a puppy that had heard an interesting noise. “Do you have kids?”
There was a fleeting second where Zane was tempted to lie, but he didn't give himself the time. All he said was, “He's five.”
“I saw the car seat.” Ty's full lips curved into a smile, his eyes lighting up. “Five's a great age. Does he have your eyes?”
Something in Zane's chest that he hadn't even realized was tense relaxed, and he smiled back. “Everything but, seems like. Want to see a picture?”
“Hell, yes.” Ty set down his cup. “I love kids.”
Zane pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photo roll until he found the most recent selfie, taken at the park the Saturday before. It showed him with an arm around a little boy who was almost identical to Zane's old school pictures, save that his eyes were a clear sapphire blue instead of so dark brown as to be nearly black. Both of them were laughing.
Ty's whole being softened when he looked at the picture. “He seems like a great kid. Really does look like you. What's his name?”
“Quentin.”
“Quentin Garrett. Nice. Guess he's got his mama's eyes.”
It took Zane a minute to recall Becky's face, which surprised him, but he guessed he hadn't thought much about her. “She had…brown eyes, I think? He gets his eyes from his grandmother—my mother.”
Ty looked up quickly. Several emotions played across his face, sympathy being one of them. “I'm sorry. She—how long has she been gone?”
Zane sighed. “She left when Quentin was two months old.”
“She left? Shit—sorry, my language. I—I noticed you weren't wearing a wedding ring, but I thought she'd died, not…” Ty flapped a hand helplessly. “What kind of person leaves her husband and her kid?”
This wasn't exactly first-date conversation, but it felt natural, somehow, to tell Ty—things Zane hadn't even told his coworkers. “I won't pretend things had been going well for a while. I was…kind of wrapped up in work, and I think she'd started to feel neglected. I did love her, though, and I was trying to work on it. Then she got pregnant, and…I thought things were getting better. I did everything I could to be there for her. I'm not sure if it was postpartum depression or what, but fifty-four days after we brought Quentin home, she packed up her things and left. Said we'd be better off without her and drove off without looking back.”
Ty gaped at him. “Jesus. And you haven't seen her since?”
“No. She terminated her parental rights as part of the divorce. It's just been the two of us.”
“I'm sorry,” Ty said. He sounded sincere. “I mean…I'm not sorry you're single, but I'm sorry you had to go through that.”
Zane couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected statement. “Thanks. I think.”
Ty blushed, looking away. “Sorry, that…slipped out. Um.” He visibly struggled for a moment to get himself under control, then looked back. “So…what do you do when you're not staring at flat tires like they're from outer space?”
An abrupt change of subject, but it worked. Zane found himself telling Ty all about his work, then asking Ty about his own. Conversation flowed naturally from there.
Zane was just contemplating ordering something to eat when a voice said, “Uh, Garrett?”
Both of them jumped, then looked up to find the owner of the tire shop standing in front of them, Zane's keys in his hand and a slight, knowing smile on his lips. “Got your tire fixed, and there's a spare in your trunk. You should be good to go.”
“Thank you.” Zane reached for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“Unless you're paying cash, come on back and we'll ring you up.”
“Thank you,” Zane said again.
To his mild surprise, Ty trailed after them back to the tire shop. He stood aside while Zane paid for the tires and thanked the owner, then walked with him outside. The car already sat in the parking lot; true to the owner's word, it was good as new. Zane was about to turn and say something to Ty when he heard, in the distance, one of the local churches chime the hour. Startled, he glanced at his watch. “Shit! I didn't realize it was that late.”
“Hot date?” Ty said lightly.
“I've gotta pick Quentin up.” Zane mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to the dance studio and concluded that he could make it. Just. “Hey, are you doing anything tonight?”
Ty suddenly looked wary. “I don't think so. Why?”
“Want to join us for dinner? I bet Quentin would love to meet you.”
It was an offer Zane normally never would have made. He'd sworn to himself that he wasn't going to make Quentin watch Daddy date, insofar as he'd intended to date at all. The idea of introducing someone he had an interest in like this was anathema to him.
But…it was Ty. And somehow, Zane was struck with the powerful urge to see how Ty and Quentin interacted with each other.
Ty looked startled, then smiled slowly. “I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.”
They exchanged phone numbers, and then Zane climbed into his car and waved to Ty as he pulled away. Ty waved back, and Zane found himself smiling as he pulled away.
He should have been afraid to fall in love. But he hadn't had time.