Page 72 of Turn Up The Heat

“Don’t go holdin’ your breath. Bet it’ll be tomorrow before you see that delivery. In the meantime, why don’t you get out of here? It’s not good manners to leave a pretty girl all by her lonesome.”

Shane pulled back, staring at Grady in surprise. “But we need to finish replacing the lifter on this Cadillac.”

Grady shook his head, his gravelly chuckle filling the garage. “If I can’t manage a new lifter after all these years of owning a garage, then shame on me. Go on. Get out of here. I’m not askin’.” He aimed a steel gray stare at the door, but still wore his trademark easy smile.

“Oh, I wouldn’t feel right keeping Shane from work,” Bellamy said. “Really, I was just going to go back to the cabin and do some research online. I’ll be fine on my own for the day.”

“Ain’t much work to keep him from until those parts get here. No more excuses. Scat, both of you, so I can get to it with this Caddy.”

Shane didn’t like the tired shadows under the old man’s eyes, but he knew all the arguing in the world wouldn’t change Grady’s mind. Plus, the idea of spending unexpected time with Bellamywaspretty appealing.

He hedged. “Okay, but if that transmission comes in, you call me,” Shane said, giving Grady his best and-I-mean-it look.

Grady’s belly laugh rumbled while he ignored Shane in favor of his much prettier companion. “Nice to meet you, sweetheart. Take good care of him, now. He ain’t seen a day off in over a year, so he might not know what to do with himself.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows shot up. “Over a year? Seriously?”

Shane shifted uncomfortably and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops with a shrug. It wasn’t his fault there had been stuff to do all that time. Jeez.

Grady’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, I’m tellin’ his secrets, now. Go on. Have fun. And thanks again for dinner.” He jutted his salt and pepper chin toward the fridge.

“You’re welcome. Next time I can add some dessert if you want,” Bellamy volunteered, eyes sparkling as she studied him in the wash of bright sunlight pouring in through the windows.

Grady grinned. “Now you’re talkin’.”

Shane chuckled and walked Bellamy to the side door. Figured Grady would be all over the sweets. Maybe Bellamy could come up with a jelly bean pie or something. That’d be right up Grady’s alley.

“Okay, well, call me if you need anything,” Shane said, meeting the old man’s eyes over his shoulder.

“Bye now.” Grady shooed them toward the door with the arch of an eyebrow. Something sparked in his eyes, and Shane paused for half a step. It hit him quick, like a sucker punch.

Approval, he thought. Grady liked her.

Guess that made two of them.

* * *

Bellamy stoodwith her hands on her hips and her bottom lip between her teeth, thoroughly dissatisfied.

“They’re still not quite right,” she said, shaking her head at the ancient belly of the oven. Two pairs of disbelieving eyes met her worry head-on, both clearly intending to show it the door.

“Are you kidding? These are the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had,” Jackson mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs as he reached for his glass of milk.

Shane nodded in agreement, putting his elbows on the tiny kitchen table. “Gotta go with the big man on this one. These cookies are off the hook.” He reached down to grab another one from the plate between him and his friend, polishing it off in a single bite.

Bellamy exhaled. She really wanted to get these cookies just right. Shane had said they were Grady’s favorite, and although she couldn’t quite put her finger on anything concrete, there was something about the man that was just so endearing. Familiar, almost.

Not being able to pinpoint it had been bugging her all day.

She tipped her head, putting the thought aside for now. “You wouldn’t say these cookies are good just to humor me, would you?”

“Yes, I would,” Shane replied, rendering Bellamy speechless. Jackson gave a low “are you stupid?”whistle, and Bellamy’s hand went right to her hip. “But,” Shane scrambled to continue before she could protest or whack him upside the head or take his cookies away, “I wouldn’t eat a half dozen of them just to humor you. They really are good, babe.”

Bellamy’s cheeks flushed. Shanehadeaten at least six cookies. “Okay, fine. I still think they need more brown sugar,” she said, calculating the ratios in her head.

“Perfectionist,” Shane teased.

He had to be kidding, right? “Pot. Kettle. Helllloooo?”

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