Page 20 of Catching Sparks

“How long have you known how to drive a manual?”

She doesn’t miss a beat before answering, “My dad taught me manual before he did automatic. He claims it’s a life skill everyone should know. Apparently, there was some truth to that, if my knowledge helped you right now.”

I huff a laugh. “I’ve never needed to know. Not until I got to this place.”

“Well, now you have something to brag about to all of your posh friends when you get back,” she teases. It’s a cautious joke, though. A test of some sort.

Too intrigued by the casual conversation, I force myself to look away from the hint of a dimple in her cheek and stare out the windshield, noticing the wide metal-sided building up ahead. “That’s the shop?”

“Yup. Brody’s truck is already there, so he must be waiting for you.” Her tone drops in temperature, no longer teasing.

I’ve failed the test, it would seem.

We don’t speak the rest of the way to the shop. That frustrates me. Only when the truck comes to a stop and I’m unbuckling my seat belt do I ask, “Will you be bringing the truck back once you finish with your appointment?”

“Yeah, I’ll drop it off here and leave the key in the visor. That work?” she asks, avoiding looking my way. I can’t say that I blame her for that.

“It works.”

I step out of the truck, prepared to shut the door behind me when she speaks again, words rushed, a bit rambled.

“You never asked what I’m doing to my hair today.”

My brows jump. “Were you wanting me to?”

“It would have been the polite thing to do.”

“Okay.” I swallow hard, too curious to put a premature end to the conversation. “What are you doing to your hair today?”

Her sly smirk has my cock hard in an instant. “How about you come find me sometime soon and see for yourself? That is, if you ever decide to let loose a little while you’re here.”

My expression must give away my surprise because that smirk of hers twists into a proud grin a second later. I tighten my grip on the door and shake my head incredulously.

“We’ll see, Poppy.”

“Yeah, I suppose we will. I’ll see you later, Garrison Beckett.”

Then she’s moving the shifter again, and I’m closing the door, cutting the connection between us. I keep my eyes on the truck until it’s a speck of dust in the distance, and then I head into the shop, hard cock and all.

I crinkle my nose at the immediate change of smell inside the shop. Grease and diesel replace the fresh spring air from outside, turning my stomach slightly. I finished off the plate of muffins Eliza sent me back to the guest house with for breakfast, but I desperately need to go to the store. I’m starving, which I’m sure isn’t helping my stomach at all.

A tractor sits at one end of the shop, a semi-truck at the other, with a giant lifting door behind each. There are two walls stocked with various tools and tool boxes, and between the two machines, what appears to be some sort of welding equipment rests.A whole lot of items I have no idea what they are or their purpose.

Low chatter fills the shop among the clatter of a tool hitting the cement floor and the scuffing of shoes. Out of my comfort zone once again, Istiffen my posture and walk toward a familiar head of dark blond hair I catch from beneath the hood of the tractor.

“So, this is what you do when you refuse to come to Calgary to record,” I say, strolling toward Brody.

He doesn’t spare me a look, just continues tinkering beneath the green hood. “Good mornin’, Garrison. It’s a pleasure to see you too.”

“I can’t say that I understand the appeal of what it is here that keeps you tied to this place,” I mutter, taking in the full space as I reach his side.

“You’ve decided that in the past two seconds that you’ve been here?”

“It took me far less than that.”

He pushes back from beneath the hood and grabs a brown rag from the back pocket of his overalls, using it to wipe at his grease-coated fingers. I grimace at the mess left on the fabric.

“I’ll give you that one because you’re my boss, but insult my home or what I do here again and I’ll have you scraping cow shit from the grooves of tractor tires every day for the next fifty-seven days.”

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