Page 5 of Winter Wish

“Hey, respect. We don’t judge, remember?” Grizzly, the club brother and not her father, scolded.

“Really? You mean you don’t judge the brothers in the club or the clubs you’re friendly with, but princesses, club girls, and the rest of the world don’t get the same luxury, do they?” Jorie pushed it, but her dad honestly didn’t get it.

She switched tactics to make her point. “Let me ask you this—would you take a club girl as an ol’ lady?”

“Eh, fuck no.” Grizzly responded. “Although a brother here or there might consider it, we all know whores can’t be trusted.”

“Then why should I? I have absolutely no feelings for Rooster beyond mild disgust, and I won’t be bulldozed into a relationship with him by you or anyone else to benefit the club. God, Dad, don’t you see? This is the same situation you and Mom were forced into for years—and look how that turned out. You cheated. Repeatedly, I might add, and she left. I refuse to be used. As your daughter, my wellbeing should be your first priority!” Jorie practically shouted.

She didn’t feel like she’d ever been first, and neither had Jolie. They weren’t second or third either. There was no way she was going to let history repeat itself, but yelling at her father felt like peeing up a hill—disastrous.

Jorie took a calming breath and then another. She knew one thing—“Dad, if and when I ever commit to a man, I’m going to love him and only him…and he’s going to cherish me.” A sexy image of Ezra popped into her mind, causing her breath to catch. It was the same thing every time she thought of him, saw him, or even heard his voice.

A storm of sexual tension blew up inside her, twisting and whirling into a tornado of desire, and she couldn’t stop it. It hadn’t changed since their very first meeting. Lordy, the man was fine—with his dark, snapping eyes and grumpy attitude. Add in that sexy beard, and her fingers itched to pet him. That wasn’t the only part of her that tingled, either, but she couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—think about that now. Ezra was a total and annihilating distraction. It was happening so often that Jorie had even given it a name.

The E-zone.

Swear to God, her lips went numb, and her brain short-circuited. The confident woman she prided herself on being took a backseat to a tongue-tied, awkward twit. Case in point—it took a moment for her to shake off the unsettling sensation and realize she was still on the phone with her dad.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” Jorie apologized after remembering what they were saying. She really was sorry. More often than not, Jorie felt like the parent in their relationship, and she struggled between feeling guilty for voicing those hard truths and expressing her love for the big man-child who tried his best to raise her and Jolie. “Listen, my break is almost over… I’ll—uh, we’ll finish this later, okay? I love you, Daddy.”

She smashed the button to end the call and hung her head. Yeah, she’d spoken what was on her mind and in her heart, but she could have maybe softened it. Jorie hadn’t called him "Daddy" in a long time, and it wasn’t her intention to hurt him. She just needed him to… she didn’t know what… change? Yeah, well, that would make her a hypocrite, wouldn’t it? If Jorie wanted the freedom to live her own life as she saw fit, then she couldn’t judge his choices either. Shit. Now she really owed him another apology.

For now though, her break was over, and she had to get back to work. Jorie resolved to call him the moment she got home. She quickly tucked her phone into the inner pocket of her coveralls. Exhaling a huge, pouty breath, even going so far as to pop her lip out, Jorie picked up the steaming mug of tea, turned to leave the break room—and screamed bloody murder. Well, it would have been bloody murder, but with her heart pounding out of her chest and her mouth stretched wide, all that escaped was a high-pitched wheeze.

Chapter 4

Our southern mechanic resembled a demented elf. Bundled to the hilt, she blew in through the side door leading to the full-service pumps, slamming it behind her. Her breath created a foggy shroud around her head as she glanced wide-eyed around the shop but deliberately avoided looking directly at Ezra.

“Brr, and oh, my God!”

“It’s not even that cold out yet,” Tobias teased as he finished sweeping up for the afternoon.

“Hmm, we’ll have to agree to disagree, Tobias. Though it’s not so much the cold this time as it is those crazy snow bunnies in the Escalade. Lordy, they were as frigid as the North Pole whenthey saw it was me and not one of you guys who came out to put another ten bucks of gas in their tank.” Jorie retorted.

Masculine chuckles and off-color comments echoed throughout the garage.

“What do you say, Jorie? It’s Friday night. Are you finally going to take the plunge and join us for a drink after work?” Manny asked, wagging his eyebrows suggestively at Ezra. The fucker.

Ezra groaned. He’d been mentally keeping his distance from his newest employee, though he couldn’t help but watch over her while she worked. As his best friend, Manny had noticed. Jorie was smart, competent, and had just the right amount of sass. She didn’t take shit from the guys and was able to hold her own—giving it right back when needed. From that first day in Vegas, she’d sparked his interest. Jorie was a warm light that drew people in—co-workers, customers, especially the men.

She was a fire in Ezra’s blood… and she was too damned young for a man like him.

“You are old enough, aren’t you?” Tobias teased.

Ezra winced as the words echoed that very thought. He was pushing thirty-five. According to her employment records, Jorie had just turned twenty-three in September.

“Well, bless your heart. I’ll have you know I’m legally able to imbibe in all fifty states, thank you very much.” Heat sizzled between them as Jorie peeked up through her lashes to meet Ezra’s gaze. Her little pink tongue slicked out, wetting her bottom lip as she held his stare. I see you, baby. Her cheeks pinkened, and she quickly looked away.

Ezra smirked. Earlier in the week, he’d scared the ever-loving hell out of her. It hadn’t been his intention, but when raised voices distracted him from his weekly payroll nightmare, he’d left his office to find out what was going on.

He shouldn’t have eavesdropped on what turned out to be a phone conversation, but despite himself, Ezra found himself more interested in Jorie’s personal life than he should be. Listening to her lay out what she expected from a man and what she was willing to give in return struck something deep within him—something he never realized was possible. Maybe that’s why Kirsty threw away five years together and chose Sam in the end.

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be the best wingwoman. I’d probably put a damper on your evening’s, uh… escapades. Besides, I was going to check out the Christmas Market. You know, do some shopping, see the lights? Maybe meet a nice guy and dance the night away?”

Her southern drawl washed over his senses like sweet candy, but the image of her dancing in another man’s arms? That ignited a response in him that bordered on possessive andconfrontational. Which was colossally stupid. She was an employee. He’d been down this road before. The last thing Curtis Garage needed was for her to screw him… and them… over.

“We could do all that, but first we’ll grab some dinner and drinks,” Aaron announced as he pulled on an insulated buffalo plaid flannel, clearly not sharing Ezra’s hesitation.

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