Page 4 of A Beach House Beginning

“What’s wrong?” Addie asked.

“I’m not sure. The car isn’t starting, for some reason.”

A sudden knock at her window made her jump. Without power, she couldn’t lower the window, so she opened the door a crack.

“Having trouble?” Wes Calhoun looked at her with concern.

She wanted to tell him no, that she was a strong, independent woman who could handle her own problems. But what she knew about cars could probably fit inside one spark plug. If cars even had spark plugs anymore, which she suspected they didn’t.

“You could say that. It won’t start. I’m not getting anything but clicks.”

“Sounds like it might be your battery. Do you know how old it is?”

“No. I bought the car used two years ago. It was three years old then. I have no idea how old the battery is. I do know I haven’t replaced it.”

“Pop the hood and I’ll take a look at it.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can call road service.”

He gave her a long look. “You seemed in a hurry this morning. Do you have time to wait for road service? If it’s your battery, I can give you a jump and get you on the road in only a few minutes.”

She glanced at her watch. The phone call with Angela had thrown off her whole morning schedule. She was already going to be late, without adding in a potentially long wait for road service.

“Thank you. I would appreciate a jump, if you don’t mind. Can you jump a car with a motorcycle, though?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never tried. I was talking about my truck.”

He had an old blue pickup truck, she knew. He drove that on the frequent days of rain along the Oregon Coast.

“Right.”

“Let’s take a look first under the hood. Can you pop it for me?”

She fumbled beneath the steering wheel to find the right lever that would release the hood, then climbed out just as Wes was taking off his leather jacket and setting it on the seat of his motorcycle.

The plain black T-shirt he wore underneath showed off muscular biceps and the tattoos that adorned them.

As he bent over the engine, worn jeans hugging his behind, his T-shirt rode up slightly, revealing a few inches of his muscular back. Her stomach tingled and Jenna swallowed and looked away, appalled at herself for having an instinctive reaction to a man who left her so jumpy.

“Yep. Looks like you need a new battery. I’ll give you a quick jump so you can make it to work. If you want, I can pick up another battery and put it in for you this evening.”

Jenna tried not to gape at him. Why was he being so nice to her, when she hadn’t exactly thrown out the welcome mat for him?

“I...that would be very kind. Thank you.”

“Give me a second to pull my truck around.”

“What’s wrong with the car? Is it broken?” Addie asked from the back seat after Wes moved to his pickup truck and climbed inside, then started doing multiple-point turns to put it in position for jumper cables to reach her battery from his.

“The battery is dead. Our nice neighbor Mr. Calhoun is going to try to help us get it started.”

“I can’t be late today. I have to give my book report first thing.”

“Hopefully we can still make it in time,” she answered, as Wes turned off his truck and released the hood latch, then climbed out, rummaged behind the seats for some jumper cables and started hooking things up.

“What do I need to do?” she asked, feeling awkward and clueless. She had needed to have a vehicle jumped a few times before, early in her marriage, but Ryan had always taken care of those kind of things for her. She should have paid more attention to the process.

“Nothing yet. I’ll tell you when to try starting it again.”

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