He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling my biceps strain with added tension. “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face. She’s just a client, that’s it.”
“Uh huh,” he mumbled skeptically. “Sure it is.”
“I’m serious,” I grunted. “Whether we have the parts or not, it’s still gonna take me a few days to get to her car, and I just caught her this morning walking to work. Apparently she’s been doing it for days.”
His chin jerked back. “In this heat?”
“Exactly. Look, you said it yourself, her sisters are bitches. Doubt they’re gonna help her out now that she’s without a ride. She needs a way to get around. Besides, didn’t you say her dad was sick or something? That’s all I’m concerned about.”
I could tell he desperately wanted to give me shit, but fortunately let it drop. “Wish I could help you, man, I really do. But all our loaners have been lent out.”
“Shit.”
“But . . .” he dragged out, a shit-eating grin stretching across his face, “Big Red’s still out there in the lot. You know, if you’re willin’ to part with her for little while, that is.”
He was talking about the ’66 Chevy C10 Fleetside I’d restored years ago. That pickup had been one of my first restorations, which kind of made it my baby. I’d gone out of my way to keep everything as authentic as possible, right down to the paint job. The body was a sleek, shiny red with a white roof and stripe down the side. It was a sweet-as-hell ride, and I’d never been a fan of letting anyone else get behind the wheel of her.
Without saying a word, I stuffed the last of my third donut in my mouth and started for the garage.
“You’re gonna let her drive it, aren’t you? I knew it!”
I lifted my hand, holding my middle finger in the air as I walked off. There was nothing left to say, really, because I was going to let Willow drive Big Red. I was going to loan her my baby just so she didn’t have to walk in the heat anymore.
“Tell her I said hey when you drop it off,” he called after me before the door to the office closed on his obnoxious voice.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind I was in for endless harassment from my partner over this. And that was the last thing I needed.
Son of a bitch.
Chapter Eight
Willow
I sat at my desk in the quiet reception area, chewing on my thumbnail as I stared at the helmet resting on the ledge.
When Stone had taken off earlier, neither of us had noticed I’d still been clutching the only thing that would come between his head and the unforgiving road if the worst came to pass and he were to crash.
He needed that helmet back fast.
Problem was, after the endorphin high from my ride on the back of his bike had finally worn off, reality set in and I burrowed deep in my own head, replaying everything I’d said and cringing at the case of verbal diarrhea I’d come down with.
My whole morning had been spent trying to decide if I should call, text, or if it would be better for me to go right to the garage so there wasn’t a delay.
After way too much time and contemplation, my anxiety finally got the better of me, and I decided to go the text route. Unfortunately, that meant overthinking what I was going to text. I’d drafted and deleted about a million messages.
Me: Hey, Stone. It’s Willow.
“No.” Delete
Me: Wassup!
“Oh God.” Delete.
Me: To whom it may concern . . .
“What the hell is wrong with me?” Delete.
“Hey Willow. Whatcha doing?”
“Gah!” I threw my hand out in a karate chops motion and I whipped around in my chair so fast I spun two full rotations before smacking my hands on my desk to bring me to a stop.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me come in.” Shane, my boss’s wife—but more importantly, Stone’s sister—was standing in front of my desk. Her lips were curled between her teeth to suppress her smile.
“No, it’s fine. Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”
She waved me off. “It’s cool. Sweet karate chop, by the way. You aim that at a person’s throat, they’ll go down for sure.”
My whole face flushed a hot, dark crimson. “Oh, uh . . .”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” she said. “Honestly, you looked really cute doing it.”
I felt the corner of my lips tick up in a grin. Like Lark, Shane had never been anything but nice to me, always stopping at my desk to chat for a bit before moving to the back to visit her husband. I really liked her. “Thanks.”
She giggled happily. “No problem, babe.” She leaned her elbows on the ledge of my desk. “So how are things? What’s new with you?”
It was the same question she asked every time she came in, and I gave her the same answer I always did. “Nothing new with me,” I admitted, wishing I actually had something to share. “Same old, same old.”
She poked her bottom lip out in a pout. “Seriously? No new man we can dish about?”
I felt that blush return and lowered my head a bit. “No man,” I said quietly, all the while thinking to myself, unless you count my pathetic crush on your older brother.
“You know, one of these days, I’m gonna come in here, and you’ll be singing a different tune.” She shot up straight with an enthusiastic, “Ooh!” like she’s just been hit with a brilliant idea. “What if I set you up with someone? I know a lot of great guys who’d gladly trample over each other for a chance to take you out.”
“Oh, uh . . . I don’t know. I’ve never been very good at dating.” I wasn’t sure there’d ever been a bigger understatement in the history of the world. To be honest, it was sheer luck and blind determination that I hadn’t ended up a sad twenty-nine-year-old virgin.
She opened her mouth to say something, only to cut herself off when her eyes shifted across my desk, landing on the helmet. “Is that Stone’s helmet?” she asked, pointing to where it sat.
My back shot straight and my skin began to tingle uncomfortably. “Y-yeah. He forgot it after he gave me a ride this morning.”
Her eyes widened for a split second before returning to their normal size, and I got the distinct impression that she was attempting to school her features into a neutral look for some reason. “He gave you a ride this morning? Like, on his bike?”
“Um . . . yes?”
“Interesting,” she muttered so quietly it was almost like she’d been talking to herself.
My head tipped to the side in confusion. “What’s interesting?”
She blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and shook her head. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Don’t mind me. I’m just gonna—” She pointed toward the back where Jensen’s office was.
“Oh, yeah. Sure.”
“Talk to you real soon, babe.”
For some strange reason, the way she said that made it sound like a promise.