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Authors: Joy Daniels

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BOOK: Revving Her Up
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He nodded, rising to his feet with unexpected gracefulness. Sarah’s mouth went dry.

The man’s hand dipped into the front pocket of his jeans and Sarah’s gaze went back to his crotch. A red bandanna came out with a bit of flourish and Sarah realized she’d been caught staring. An uncharacteristic blush heated her cheeks.

Get a grip, Sarah.
Pulling her New York mien around her like armor, she thrust out a hand. “Sarah Lange.”

“Better not,” he said, raising his large, callused hands to show palms spotted with motor oil. “Cole Cassidy. Pleasure to meet you.”

Pleasure… Sarah withdrew her hand and tucked a few errant blond strands behind her ear as she mentally shook herself. He was a mechanic no matter how powerful his mojo. Definitely not her type. She forced her attention back to the problem at hand. Her car’s problem. “You’re the local expert?”

“Yes, ma’am. ‘Fraid they don’t have much experience with high-maintenance foreigners around here.” His drawl was soft and smooth.

“And you do?” She heard the sharpness in her voice and hoped that he chalked it up to impatience—or the dig about “high-maintenance foreigners”—rather than the disturbing effect he was having on her libido.

If he noticed her tone, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve got some.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with it?”

“Looks like the right front tie rod is busted. If so, it’ll have to be replaced. That could be all, but I’d have to get it up on the lift to say for sure.” He pointed his chin toward the garage.

Sarah’s gaze shifted to the open garage door. The rusted truck that had been occupying the only lift when she arrived was still there. Beneath it, two men were deep in conversation while a third stood with his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. They didn’t look like they were leaving anytime soon.

The garage’s office door opened and Austin came out. He headed toward them with a smile.

“Cole. Thanks so much for stopping by, man.”

“No problem, Austin. Happy to lend a hand.” Cole slapped the other man on the back.

“So you can fix it?” Austin asked.

“Wait a minute,” Sarah said, raising a hand. “What about the Porsche dealership? You said they were on their way.”

Austin made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Those guys are coming all the way from Richmond. They won’t be here for ages. Besides, Cole knows more about cars than all them guys put together.”

Cole spoke before she could deliver the retort that sprang to her lips. “It’ll take the guys from Richmond a while to get here. I might be able to diagnose your problem a bit sooner.” He paused. “If that’s okay with you.”

Austin’s mouth dropped open. “If it’s okay with her? Honey, this man is not just any mechanic. He builds stock car engines for the Cup series! He could fix your vehicle with his eyes closed. Do you have any idea how much—?”

“Okay?” Cole asked.

She took a deep breath. He had a point. The Porsche guys were still miles away. While she had no idea of what stock cars were, if Cole was half as good as Austin promised, he might be able to speed her deliverance from this podunk town.

She looked into his eyes. He could help her. He wanted to help her. And she wanted nothing more than to step into the circle of his arms and lean on that strong chest while he made this whole mess go away…

Where the hell had that come from?

Alarmed at the direction of her thoughts, Sarah took a step back and nodded. She pretended to study the bent front wheel. “Yeah. Sure.”

Austin turned to Cole. “So, what do you think?”

“It looks like a busted tie rod, but I wanna get it up on the lift to be sure. Any word on Frankie’s truck?”

Austin shook his head. “It’ll be a while. Frankie needs that truck to get his vegetables to the farmers’ market on Wednesday. He won’t leave till it’s fixed.”

Sarah looked up. “And that would be…?” The old clunker looked as if it would rust right off the lift if she waited long enough.

Austin scrubbed his hand across his scalp, leaving black streaks on his forehead. “Can’t rightly say. It’ll take at least a couple of hours to—”

“A couple of hours?” Sarah said, her exasperation returning. “That’s not acceptable. I’ve already been here for hours.”

Austin cleared his throat. “See here, honey,” he said slowly as if speaking to a child. “I—”

That was it. “Honey? Honey? I—”

Cole stepped between them. “The lift at my place is empty. I can look at it over there.”

She turned to Cole. “You have a lift?” It was the first good news she’d heard all afternoon.

“You would do that?” Austin asked at the same time, sounding amazed. “With the season opening soon you must be busier than a honeybee in a field of flowers. I don’t want to—”

“Well, I do,” Sarah said, stopping Austin’s protest with a raised hand. “If you have a garage, I want to take it there now.”

Austin’s brows rose and the two men exchanged a look. Sarah bit back a sigh. She knew she wasn’t making any friends here, but didn’t they realize that she had better places to be?

“Fine with me,” Cole said. “Really, it’s no problem.”

What was the big deal? A garage is a garage. Still, she tried to make amends. “I’ll pay extra if I have to.”

Cole shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m happy to give Austin a hand.”

Austin, not her. She should keep that in mind.

“Thanks, man,” Austin said. “That’d be a really big help. I’ll get Mike to hitch it up again.” He turned to Sarah. “Honey, you have no idea of how lucky you are to be in this man’s hands. He’s a legend.”

Sarah ignored the “honey” as her gaze dropped to Cole’s large, oil-stained hands. Legendary for what? The fingers waved and she glanced up to see Cole grinning.

“Ur, thanks,” she said, the heat returning to her cheeks.

“My pleasure,” Cole said with a smile.

Oh, really?

Chapter Three

Sarah supervised the hitching of her car onto the tow truck. When she was confident it was secure, she turned to Cole. “Your garage is nearby, I presume.”

“Little ways down the road. We can take my truck.” He made an after-you gesture toward the blue pickup she’d seen earlier. Daylight was fading and a cool breeze kicked around Sarah’s ankles. She slipped her coat back on, glad that she’d thought to grab it from the car. They approached the truck and Cole stepped forward to open the passenger door. He held the door and Sarah realized he was waiting for her to get in so he could close it after her. She found herself pleased and irritated by the gesture. Irritated because she was pleased.

Typical Southern guy thing.

She stepped forward, eager to get going. Then she saw the seat. Unlike the tow truck’s lower bench, this one was a good two and a half feet off the ground. How the hell did women get into these trucks? Her skirt was too narrow for her to raise her leg that far, and she risked flashing her thigh-highs and thong to the world if she hiked it up.

She took a breath. If she could navigate the New York City subway in four-inch heels and a suit, she damned well could figure out how to get into this truck. It took some planning, that’s all. She put her purse on the seat, placed one hand next to it and contemplated her course of action. Maybe with a little hop, she could—

“May I?”

Sarah whirled around. Cole had closed the distance between them, standing well within the personal space a New Yorker wouldn’t breach even in a rush-hour subway car. She inhaled the scent of something slightly spicy and altogether male. Close up the faint dusting of stubble on his chin reminded her of fine sandpaper.

Without waiting for an answer his large hands grabbed her hips. His fingers met at the small of her back. A frisson of arousal went through her and she gasped, tipping forward and grasping Cole’s arms for balance.

His biceps hardened to rock under her fingers as he lifted. He placed her on the edge of the seat, holding on until she was settled. As he let go, his fingers brushed her thigh. Even through the material of her skirt his touch left a trail of tiny sparks.

What the hell was going on with her? Yeah, he was hot, but what she needed right now was a man to fix her car so she could get back on the road. Nothing more. She slid around to face front, keeping her gaze fixed on the smudged windshield until the door closed and he was gone.

 

Cole adjusted himself as he walked around to the driver’s side. What was it about this woman that had him going from zero to sixty faster than the drop of the green flag?

He’d always been a sucker for a damsel-in-distress, even one with as much armor and attitude as Sarah Lange. But he hadn’t been prepared for the effect this woman had on him. The uptight New Yorker had been revving his engine since the moment he’d spotted her by the side of the road. Then he’d caught her staring at his package, and the hungry look on her face had sent his libido into overdrive.

Did she even realize she’d been undressing him with her eyes as she’d dressed him down? Probably not, but his body had reacted all the same. When he’d felt the sweet curve of her hips a vision had flashed through his mind—holding her as he settled his body between her naked thighs. He’d gone hard in an instant. Letting go of her had been nearly impossible. He hadn’t meant to cop a feel but couldn’t regret his accidental touch of those sexy-as-hell legs.

Cole slipped into the driver’s seat and glanced over at his passenger. He was surprised to see her sitting back against the seat, staring straight ahead. Her accent and attitude reminded him of his ex, and he’d expected Sarah to perch on the edge of the bench as Natalie had the first time he’d taken her for a ride in his truck. He grimaced. Throughout that disastrous visit, Natalie had refrained from getting too close to anything or anyone in Rapture, as if being from a small town was contagious. Or something to be ashamed of.

He pushed the memory away and focused on Sarah. Color stained her cheeks, and her blond hair was done up in a fussy little ponytail. Her full lips were pursed—most likely in aggravation—but they made him want to run his tongue along their seam to coax a kiss out of her. Or a moan.

A loud horn stopped that thought in its tracks. Mike was behind the wheel of the tow truck and ready to leave. Like Austin, Mike seemed eager to get rid of the fancy car and its equally spirited owner. Cole shook his head. City folks always seemed ornery and uncomfortable outside of their native habitat. In it too, come to think of it…

Cole turned out of the garage lot and onto the road that led toward his place. They drove down Main Street, passing Morrissey’s Restaurant and the hair salon, the post office, the hardware store and the white church steeple that rose high above the town. What did Sarah see when she looked at the town he called home? A dull backwater she couldn’t wait to escape? Probably, which was too bad. Rapture, Virginia had a lot of charm if you took the time to look beneath the surface. Of course a city girl would never think it was worth the time to do so.

Within minutes the dusty precincts of the town were behind them and the dense growth of the National Forest crowded both sides of the road. Tall trees arched overhead, their shade creating a semi-twilight intimacy in the cab. Sarah shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Each time her tight skirt rode a bit higher, revealing more stocking-clad flesh. He thought he caught a glimpse of a lace-covered band. Were those thigh-highs? He exhaled slowly. If any more blood rushed to his cock he’d pass out.

He stole another glance at Sarah’s face—and caught her staring back. She looked away, but not before he caught the curiosity in her eyes and something else.

Desire.

She opened her mouth but didn’t speak, just swallowed. Was her mouth as dry as his? Her palms slightly damp? If he ran a finger down her neck would her pulse be racing too? He took a deep breath and caught a hint of floral perfume. Even her smell made him hot.

Sarah started at the sound of a phone ringing in her bag. She pulled it out and frowned at the screen. “Figures the reception is better now.” She cleared her throat. “Sarah Lange speaking.” With those words, her voice and body language changed. Both became sharp, tight, her posture so rigid she looked as if she would shatter with a touch.

What would it take to make this woman really shatter? To let go and throw caution to the wind? She looked as if she could use some shaking up—of the good kind. But it wasn’t his place to say so. Instead he focused on the road in front of him, trying not to eavesdrop. In the confines of the cab, he couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to get interrupted a lot. When she did get a word in, she spoke as if through clenched teeth. After a few minutes she ended the call with an exasperated “Fine, I’ll do it,” and tossed the phone back into her purse. Tension rolled off of her in waves.

“Something wrong?”

She gave a bitter snort. “Me being out of the office is wrong, as far as our newest associate is concerned. A vacation is something of a foreign concept in my field.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an attorney.”

Like he hadn’t seen that coming. “Do you like it?”

She seemed surprised by his question. Had no one ever asked? “Some of it,” she said after a pause. “Sometimes.”

BOOK: Revving Her Up
3.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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