Page 18 of Wrecked for Love
I gave in. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get these fixed before Mother Nature gets any bright ideas and drops another storm on us.”
We got to work, her handing me tools like a seasoned pit crew while I loosened, cleaned the plugs, and checked the gaps. “Lucky for you, no cracks,” I said. “Otherwise, you might’ve been stuck with me for another day.”
I caught the pause—just a second—but we both pushed the thought aside.Focus on the plugs, I told myself. After a bit more wrangling, I locked the last one into place.
“There. Your baby’s back in business. Good for another three years of flawless driving. Want to do the honors and start her up?”
She glanced at her oil-smudged fingers, clearly searching for something to wipe them on.
I propped my foot up on the car and pointed at my jeans. “Go ahead, right here.”
Her eyes widened. “No way.”
“Come on, I don’t mind. Wipe away.”
Hesitant at first, she finally gave in, wiping her hands on my jeans with a reluctant laugh.
She slid into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and the engine purred to life.
“Well, would you look at that?” I said, closing the hood as I watched her triumphantly. “Where’d you pick up those car smarts, anyway?”
“My brother taught me. He was a mechanic,” she said, her gaze drifting somewhere far away for a moment.
Sensing I might’ve touched on something personal, I switched gears. “Hey, how about we give this thing a bath? Might be a small town, but folks around here keep their cars spotless.”
A glimmer of approval flickered in her eyes—sweet, for once, yet still as disarming as ever. “Sure, why not.”
“Great! Drive it over to the shed; there’s a hose we can use.” I hopped in beside her, guiding her as she maneuvered the car toward the wash area.
“I’ll handle it,” she said, grabbing the hose before I could. “I don’t trust you not to spray me with this thing.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. This little Miss Chili Pepper never stopped surprising me.
After giving the car a quick rinse—just enough to keep it from looking like a total disaster—she sprayed her muddy sneakers and shook them dry. Then, with a glimmer of gratitude in her eyes, she turned to me and pulled me into a light hug, her arms wrapping around me for just a moment.
“Thank you.” Her voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.
I just nodded. “Be careful, all right? Not everyone’s as nice as me,” I quipped, trying to keep it light. “And hey, don’t kill anyone.”
Her hand slipped out of the driver’s window, sending me a wave. And just like that, she was gone.
I watched her car disappear down the long, muddy driveway, the hollowness in my chest spreading. My working dogs were barking from their kennel, waiting to be let out, probably grumbling that I was late. Weekend or not, it didn’t matter to them.
Back inside, I stripped off my mud-streaked jeans. But it was the oil stains that made me pause in the laundry room. How had I ended up offering her my jeans as a rag? Seriously, what just happened?
Not ready to unpack that bizarre moment, I crammed my mind with chores and whatever else a farmer needed to do on a Sunday. I changed clothes and headed toward my bedroom. On the nightstand, the bullets from my rifle sat neatly in a pile.
I smirked. That woman was something else—unpredictable, impossible to figure out. And yet, I kind of wanted to.
Koda slinked into the room, guilt written all over him. He knew better than to sneak onto the bed last night.
“Yeah, just look at all those hairs,” I grumbled, yanking the sheets off. Still, I couldn’t help but chuckle as I swapped them out.
The pillowcase lingered with a faint trace of her. Technically, it was just the scent of my soap from the shower she’d taken, but somehow it felt like hers now.
I sighed, wishing I’d thought of some clever line to keep her around just a little longer. Maybe invite her out for lunch in town. But nothing brilliant had come to mind, so I let her go. Guess I should be proud of myself for not pushing it.
I started vacuuming the carpet, only to spot it—a necklace caught in the fibers. I bent down and picked it up, the metal chain slipping between my fingers.
