Page 13 of Turn Up The Heat

“Not exactly,” Jackson said to his scuffed work boots.

Shane arched a brow. “You suck at bending the truth.”

“Well, the Samantha Kane thing is true,” Jackson started, and Shane saw the honesty in his expression. “But yeah. I saw Grady in town a little while ago and he said something about you bein’ here an awful lot, so I figured I’d see if you wanted to go grab a beer or two. It’s not like it’ll hurt anything. This time tomorrow, you’ll have that tranny out, and for what? A three day wait on parts? Come on.” Jackson tipped his head toward the door. “This fancy bucket of bolts will be here tomorrow, no worse for wear.”

Well, shit. As much as Shane hated to admit it, Jackson had a point. Plus, the last thing Shane needed was Grady thinking he spent too much time in the garage. Shane worked his ass off, yeah, but he did it because he loved it. It had been that way ever since the minute Grady had hired him.

Hell ifthatwasn’t a thread Shane didn’t feel like pulling.

He grumbled, mostly to cover up his smile. “I’ll only go on one condition.”

Jackson lifted his brows at Shane in question. “And that is?”

“Your ass is coming back in here tomorrow to help me muscle this tranny out.”

Jackson shook his head like he should’ve known better. “Let me guess. Damn thing seized? You know those things are a pain no pill can reach, right?”

Thinking of how the car had come to be here in the first place, Shane had to laugh. “You think that’s bad, you should see its owner. Come to think of it, a couple of beers might not be the worst way to end this day after all.”

* * *

Bellamy eyedthe faded sign over the side of the worn wooden building and laughed.

“The Double Shot? Now that’s what I’m talking about.” After the day she’d had, she could use a good drink. Preferably one strong enough to take the paint off her car.

The very car that was currently sitting in some back roads garage, waiting for parts that cost more than a Caribbean beach getaway.

Okay. Maybe she needed more than one drink.

“Yes,” Jenna said. “We plugged ‘hot men, local bar’ into the GPS and this is what popped up. Go figure.”

“Bellamy’s here to forget men,” Holly reminded her, slamming the passenger door on Jenna’s BMW.

Huh. In the wake of all the crappy events raining down on her today, Bellamy hadn’t even thought twice about Derek. He seemed like small potatoes compared to her French-fried transmission and its sky-high price tag, not to mention the fact that she still had to deal with calling the boss from hell to try and weasel a whole week’s worth of days away from the grind.

“I’m here to forget oneman,” she corrected. “And to be honest, I don’t really think it’s worth my energy to be pissed at Derek.”

Jenna tipped her head as they hustled through the busy parking lot. “You’re not mad at Mr. Fantastic anymore?”

“He wasn’t that fantastic, obviously,” Bellamy griped.

“How great can a guy who colors his hair really be?” Holly asked. “I swear, he used more product than all three of us combined.”

Bellamy laughed, the bone-chilling cold taking her excitement for the evening down a notch. “I’m not talking about his looks.” Oh, thank God. They had finally reached the door. “What I mean is, now that I think about it, the whole relationship was kind of just…meh.”

If her relationship with Derek was as exciting as dry wheat toast, then she’d found its polar opposite in the bar she’d just entered. The place was packed with people, all in various states of drunk and disorderly, and between the low lighting and the loud, freely flowing music and equally free-flowing alcohol, Bellamy knew they’d discovered the perfect place for her to drown her sorrows.

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but Derek wasn’t exactly riveting. Although he sure thought so,” Holly half-shouted over the din as they made their way toward the crowded bar.

“Please. I can say this now that he’s a thing of the past. The guy was an asshat,” Jenna said.

Bellamy stopped short a few steps from the glossy wood of the bar that ran the entire length of the room. “Did you always think so?”

Jenna chewed her lip for a second. “Yeah, kind of.”

Shock hit her square in the chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I wasn’t the one dating him.” Jenna shrugged. “You seemed to like him well enough, and even though he was kind of a weasel, he wasn’t going around kicking puppies.”

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