Chapter 8

“What can I get you?” A waitress wearing a pink dress and spotless white apron took their orders. Three chocolate malts.

“Nice leather jacket, Gene.” Carolyn nodded at him. “You in a gang?”

“Carolyn!” Billy couldn’t believe she had asked that.

“It’s okay. No, not everyone who drives a motorcycle and wears leather is in a gang.”

Carolyn smiled. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have judged you,” she replied, properly contrite. “What do you do?”

“I own Milgram’s Auto Shop at the edge of town.” He smiled at Billy. “It’s lucky that I just fixed my tow truck, or I might have had to call someone else for the job.

“Thank goodness you were there,” Carolyn said. “We’re so grateful.” She reached across the table and patted Billy’s hand.

“Glad I was there, too.” He cleared his throat and turned to Billy. “I’m going to go check the jukebox,” Gene said, sliding out of the booth. “Be right back.”

Billy watched him walk away, trying not to admire how nice his ass looked in those Levi’s.