Page 55 of South of The Skyway

And then my golden boy went uncharacteristically silent. When we rolled into the auto parts store lot, he swiped the sticky note with the make and model of my car. He insisted we stop and then returned in equal silence, the battery in the back of his truck. We were in the heart of the city by the time he finally said, “What can I do for you tonight?”

Straight to the point. Specific. It should have felt ridiculous, but my heart warmed, my breathing steadying under his scrutiny as he followed the GPS to Noel’s townhouse. This man had driven forty minutes to meet me in the hospital, stood up to her asshole boyfriend, insisted we pick up a battery for the car and escorted me to feed her cat and fill the water bowl.

“You’ve done enough.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

I laughed, the sound raspy. Honesty. That’s what everyone said it took to communicate in a relationship, right? What the hell did I want? Something inside me felt hollow, heavy with the what if’s of the day. “Mind sticking around while I feed Chloe? I can walk if you have somewhere to be.”

“Nowhere that can’t wait for tomorrow.” His expression softened as he pulled into the magically open parking space directly in front of her door.

“Do you always get princess parking, Hotshot?”

He chuckled. “Princessparking?”

“There is always—always—a Honda Civic here. I’ve never seen it leave. And magically, it’s just gone? Why are you smiling?”

“The universe always gives us what we need. And I needed to take care of you and Noel as quickly as possible and get you home safe. It makes sense there was a nice spot.”

“You’re one of a kind, Mr. Rhodes.”

He hopped out of the truck with a cheeky grin. “Don’t you forget it.”

* * *

By the timewe made it back to my apartment, a bag full of clothes packed for Noel, I was emotionally and mentally exhausted. But as I opened my front door, he jerked his chin back towards the curb. “Which one’s yours?”

“What?”

Fuck, that smile could melt steel. “Which Jeep is yours, Ace? I’ll swap the battery out.”

“Rhyett, I’ve got it.” I’d made the mistake of blinking while I thought, opening my eyes to the hard blue wall of his chest. My eyes trailed up, following the subtle vein in his neck to his Adam's apple. I wanted to run my lips across it, trail my tongue up to that perfect coat of golden stubble. “I…can—”

He chuckled, breath warm on my face. “I know youcando it, but I would feel better if I knew you were taken care of before sundown—” was that insinuation in his tone? “—in case you get a second wind and head back down to Noel.” He tapped my nose with a knuckle, grinning as he asked, “You okay there?”

“I—uh—yeah. I’m good. It’s uh—” The more I babbled like an idiot, the broader his grin grew, and my heart stuttered forward in response. “—I drive the, uh, the black Jeep Wrangler hybrid.”

“Keys?”

“Hmm?”

His chuckle demanded I peel my gaze from those full lips and bright teeth to focus on his eyes.

“I need the keys, Ace.”

“Right, duh.” I shook my head.Oh. My. God. What is wrong with me?Handing him the keys, I shook my head, turning for the townhouse. The man drove me to the precipice of stupidity with his kindness, and evidently, I’d just swan-dove right off the edge.

It only took two brain cells to rub together to know it was a day for a second pot of coffee. I’d chugged a few cups of the shitty hospital brew, wrinkling my nose all the while but grateful for something to do with my hands.

By the time I’d warmed up lasagna, and poured a mug and a cup of tea for Rhyett, he was knocking on the door frame before leaning into it. Shirtless. With an oil-streaked rag tossed haphazardly over his gorgeous shoulder. A thin coat of sweat glimmered over ink and tight muscles. My mouth filled with saliva as I traced the long line of his impeccable torso down to the defined v of his abs. A thin smattering of blonde hair trailed from the belt of his cargo shorts and for a heartbeat, I wondered what it would feel like against my fingers.

Rhyett cleared his throat, that self-satisfied smile rocking my world as much as that drool-worthy physique. “Can I come in?”

“Oh my word,” I sputtered, nearly spilling my coffee before remembering it was in my hands. “Of course, please, come on in. I made you some tea—I didn’t have anything but peppermint and some medicinal blends. But it’s a combo I think is good.” When had I ever been reduced to babbling in front of a beautiful man? Never. I had never been reduced to babbling. Except this man, his big, veiny hands dirty from working on my car, glistening from the Florida heat…

I cleared my throat, pulling out a chair, and unceremoniously plopped into it. “And I warmed up food. Just lunch, no biggie. Consider it a tiny thank you for your troubles.”Oh my god, Brexley, stop talking.

“If you give Italian as payment for simple tasks, go ahead and write me a list. You’ll never get rid of me.”

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