Free Hammer It Home: Powertools, Book 6 by Jayne Rylon Page A

catching fire inside him.
    “You got it.” Mike slapped him on the shoulder. “You and Dave head out. We’ll be right behind you as soon as we stash the supplies inside. Don’t need any of this lumber walking off before we get back tomorrow morning.”
    Sounding like a broken record but not caring, Joe said, “Thanks,” again.
    His lips were numb and his fingers beat an irregular rhythm on his ripped jeans as he loped to Dave’s truck. His wingman never strayed from his side. The rest of the crew cheered them on, shouting good luck in their wake.
    Joe reached Dave’s monster black pickup first. He didn’t ask before opening the driver’s side door. Without something to do he’d go crazy by the time they reached their wives. The pair piled into the cab. Dave tossed the keys across the bench seat. Joe snagged them in one hand, jammed them in the ignition and backed out of the new paver driveway they’d laid last week fast enough to chirp the tires. “Whoa there buddy, no sense in wrecking now. Things are finally going your way, remember?”
    The click of Dave’s seatbelt echoed in the space between them.
    Joe nodded, taking a shaky breath. He fastened his own harness, then moderated his speed to something he wouldn’t go to jail for if a cop spotted him.
    “It’s gonna work out, Joe.” Dave slapped Joe’s thigh hard enough to leave a bold handprint beneath the denim. “This time next year, you’re gonna be exhausted, broke and wrapped around your kid’s eensy-weensy finger. I have a feeling.”
    The big man had pulled his psychic shit one too many times for his friends to dismiss his intuition easily. Somehow that only accelerated the pounding of Joe’s heart. What if… “Dave?”
    “Yeah, man.”
    “Am I ready?”
    Raucous laughter ricocheted around the truck. “Kind of late to wonder that, isn’t it?”
    Joe couldn’t answer past the tightness of his lips.
    “Shit, shit. Sorry.” Dave rubbed his flat belly. “Right. You’re not joking. This is like me freaking out at my wedding, remember?”
    “No. I mean, yes. I remember. But they’re nothing alike.” Joe took his eyes from the road long enough to laser a stare at Dave. “That was ridiculous bullshit. Standing there at the edge of the resort, waiting for Kayla, you lost your mind. Babbled like a crazy man. Not good enough, not rich enough, not hung enough. Whatever. That last one killed me, by the way. How much bigger could one cock get?”
    “Exactly.” Dave shifted his muddy boots on the thick rubber mat. “Not my finest moment. Don’t pull that shit on me now. You’re going to be a kickass father. And if you’re really lucky, you’ll have a son so you can rub it in Mike’s face.”
    Joe couldn’t help but laugh. As usual, his friends knew exactly the right thing to do to shake things into perspective. He flipped on the turn signal, taking the exit to the artsy-fartsy mall the girls preferred over the department stores he’d have frequented. In, out, done—unless he was picking out something special for Morgan.
    Maybe he should have gotten her a present just in case. He’d work on a surprise for her after they verified… After it was really real.
    But in his heart, he knew Dave was right.
    He hoped they had halfway decent flowers at the drugstore.
    “Okay, I’ll stop somewhere and get the stuff.” He slipped from the truck, leaving it running as Dave came around the hood. “I know where they keep the tests in each store in a ten mile radius at this point. I’ll run in, and be right behind you. Tell Morgan I love her.”
    Dave grinned and saluted. “Sure will. I’ll probably beat you by an hour or two with you driving that recycled tin can.”
    Joe shook his head as he bent to move the seat back at least a foot in Morgan’s hybrid sedan. She loved the miniature neon green car so much he didn’t have the heart to suggest she upgrade to something a little more peppy or spacious. Though she might have to soon. He was