Page 2 of Fall Favor
Oh, Jesus, take the wheel. What am I saying? Smacking my lips closed, I look everywhere but at the man in front of me. I tug at the collar of my sweater as a heated flush of embarrassment crawls up my neck into my cheeks, and I break out in a sweat. I pray I’m not turning as red as it feels, but I doubt I could be that lucky.
When I finally find the courage to make eye contact with him again, I blink at the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of sexy full lips, and oh my gosh… please, please, please don’t smile. That’s the last thing I need.
White teeth flash, and then a masculine rumble of laughter pours from his mouth.
Mortified, I slap my hand over my traitorous mouth and spin on my heels. I need to get the heck out of here before I get arrested for sexual harassment. Gah! I noticed the cop shop right next door when I pulled into the parking lot. Officers are probably on their way to toss me in the pokey already. This is what living alone with only myself for company has gotten me.
“Hey, hold up.” A gentle but firm grip settles on my arm.
I skid to a stop, my hair swinging forward into my face as I bow my head in embarrassment. There’s no running from this; I owe the poor guy an apology.
Blowing out a huge sigh, I shore up what little dignity I have left. “I am so sorry.”
“Me too.”
What? I mean… what? Why? I push my hair aside and peek at his face, trying to figure out what he’s up to. I can practically spot a con a mile away thanks to my ex-husband, Bucky, but this guy’s smile is sweet and seems sincere. I can’t resist moving with him when he holds out a hand and guides me back into the garage.
“I’m Emanuel Candelaro, but folks call me Manny,” he offers.
My fingers tremble as I reach out and take the hand he’s holding out for me to shake. I almost groan at the roughness of his skin against mine.
“Leah,” I offer in return.
He gives my hand two quick pumps and then pulls away. I almost cry at the loss of contact.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Leah. Let’s head into the office. I’ll check our supply on the computer. I doubt we have a whole kit in stock, but we can special order it for you. While we’re at it, we’ll schedule an appointment for your vehicle. Are you looking for preventative maintenance, or are you experiencing a problem?”
Again. Wow. A man who takes charge, is professional without being patronizing while he’s doing it, and can ignore my lack of tact? Especially while I’m behaving like a neurotic twit? Wintervale, Montana, must be a magical place because I think I may have just discovered a unicorn.
Chapter 3
October
Manny
After buttoning up the front-end alignment on Mrs. Dugan’s old Caprice, I take it for a quick test drive around the block, knowing that as soon as it snows, the ol’ girl will hit another curb, and the Caprice will be back in for another appointment again. She’s done it so many times in the last couple of years that the garage owners, Ezra and Aaron Curtis, give her an extra discount along with her senior discount now.
I drum my fingers impatiently on the wheel as the stop light takes forever to change from red to green, listening absently to the engine and carriage for any odd or troubling noises. The car handles beautifully, no longer pulling to the right as I headback toward the garage. I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding when I see the blue Dodge 2500 still parked in the garage’s front lot, and I pull Mrs. Dugan’s car in and park next to it.
I’ve been anticipating seeing the lovely, albeit awkward, Leah Dawson today. I’ve wondered more times than I care to count over the last few days whether, if I tucked her caramel-colored hair behind her ear to reveal her pretty brown eyes, it would feel as soft as it looked. And if I did, would those eyes still be shadowed with vulnerability?
There’s just something about her that captured me. Something… I don’t know… authentic. Like maybe the broken in me recognizes the broken in her, or some such cosmic bullshit. All I knew then was that I needed to touch her, so I held out my hand and introduced myself. The instant her smooth, cool skin slid against the warm roughness of my own, I swear, every clichéd metaphor I’d ever heard came true. Struck by lightning.Check.The earth stood still.Check.Hit a brick wall.Check. Check. Check.
I could hardly wait to see her, maybe flirt with her some more, just to see if I could get that lovely shade of pink to color her creamy cheeks again. Was the attraction arching between us as intense as I’d thought, or was it only one-sided? But then she dropped off her truck before seven, leaving the keys in the drop box, so I missed the chance of seeing her. Needless to say, I was disappointed, not to mention low-key anxious all damned day.
And isn’t that a mind-fuck? I spent a year with Jolie and never had this sort of reaction. Twenty minutes in Leah’s company,and I’m suddenly invested. I’ve even gone so far as to write down the site number and drive through the campground to see if I could spot her again on my afternoon off. Is it stalkerish as fuck? Hell yeah, but she isn’t like any woman I’ve ever met, and I’m seriously interested in getting to know her. She also hasn’t been at her site, so I feel doing it isn’t quite as creepy as it could have been, but man, I feel like she has me by the balls… in a good way.
With a short puff of amusement, I tromp through the garage’s side door and into the office. Della, the white-haired busybody who replaced Jolie at the front counter, gives me a weak half-smile as her eyes dart toward Ezra’s closed office door and then back to me.
Here we go again. Ezra and Aaron must be on their weekly conference call with Jolie. Even though she left Montana, she still handles all the HR and payroll stuff remotely. I wish everyone could get it through their heads that there isn’t any animosity between us, even if Jolie alluded to me being the one to end it. She never outright lied, but she hasn’t told them the truth either. I guess that made it easier for her to get away, not that she was a prisoner here, but she kind of left me the bad guy, holding the bag, especially in her sister Jorie’s eyes.
Yeah, I could have argued everyone’s assumptions, but I chose not to. Jolie’s and my breakup really wasn’t a big deal; it was a relief for both of us. It wasn’t anyone else’s business, especially Jorie’s, even if her change of attitude toward me stings.
“Della, the Dugans’ car is ready. Can you call her and her son and let them know?”
I don’t wait for an answer. Instead, I head out into the garage and raise my bay door so I can keep an eye on the front lot.
Mrs. Dugan’s car was the last one on the schedule for the day and the week, unless we get a wrecker call or someone stops in. I have a couple of hours to put in until the workday is over, but there are always things to do, so I spend some time cleaning my bay and organizing my tools. Grabbing the shop broom, I sweep up the floors, then I check over the hydraulics on each lift.
