Page 23 of Fumbled Beginning

“Thank you for coming. I hope I didn’t tear you away from anything too important, like a date or something like that.”

His brow raised, and I suddenly felt the urge to pound my head against the steering wheel. Maybe it would reset my brain and get it to start working right again.

I felt like Baby inDirty Dancingwhen she blurted out, “I carried a watermelon.”

“You didn’t tear me away from anything. I was up watching ESPN.” His face broke out into a full-blown grin. “Would it bother you if I was on a date?”

“Of course not. It’s none of my business what or who you do.” I huffed, feeling a tiny bit of rage at the thought.

He snorted. “Yeah, I can tell.”

“Whatever.” I sighed in irritation because it was painfully obvious that I was lying. “How much do you know about cars?” I asked, leaning back slightly. His large frame was taking up so much room it was hard for me to think clearly.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked, sticking his head farther into my personal space. I could practically feel the heat coming off his body, and with the smell of his cologne, that was a dangerous combination for me.

When I looked up to answer him, I swallowed, and my attention immediately went to his tattooed arms, gripping the end of my door. Every tiny movement would cause the hem of his shirt to ride up his perfectly cut stomach. I averted my eyes up to his sharp jawline and noticed his newly trimmed beard, it was short, and I liked it—a lot. It made his lips more noticeable, and I wanted to kiss him so badly that I practically tingled everywhere. I envisioned what it would feel like to run my hands through his hair while he devoured my mouth. No doubt I would savor every second because a man as confident as him had to be skilled in that area.

He cleared his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. “Rylee?”

“Yeah?” I blinked up at him, trying to remember what we were talking about before I slipped into fantasy land.

“Your car?”

“What about it?” I was confused and distracted and making a complete fool of myself.

His eyes were sparkling. “You mentioned something about overheating.”

“Yes, right, that would be me.” My eyes flashed to his in mortification. “I mean my car! My car is overheating. Not me!”

Jesus Christ, Rylee. Shut up and stop talking.

His lips twitched. “Why don’t you pop the hood and I’ll take a look.”

I reached to the left and pushed the button. JP rounded my car and looked under the hood. His tight green T-shirt looked ready to rip open if he moved another inch.

Glancing up at the sky, I silently wondered what I did to piss God off so much. Clearly, I was being punished for something.

As much as I wanted to sit in my car and avoid him, I didn’t want to be rude. I fixed a few strands of hair and stepped out of the vehicle.

“Hey.” I strode over to his side. “Any idea what it could be?” He was bent over, twisting a few caps, and checking the oil. Why was that such a turn-on?

“I’m not a mechanic, but my guess is it’s either a leak with the coolant system or something with the radiator.”

I pulled my white sweater tighter around my shoulders. “My Jeep is only two years old. I shouldn’t be having this kind of problem with a new car, should I?”

He closed the hood and wiped his hands off on a towel. “Probably not, but because it’s newer, any major repairs should be covered under your manufacturer’s warranty.”

“Great.” I sighed. “Now what?”

“Text your brother and let him know that I’m bringing you home.”

“What about my car? I can’t just leave it alongside the road, I’ll get a ticket.”

“I’ll call my mechanic; he has a tow service.”

“You just have a mechanic on speed dial?”

“Yep.” He rounded the car and looked inside. “Make sure you don’t leave anything valuable in there. I’ll give my guy a call while you grab your stuff.”

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