by Andris Bear
Brushing a thick curl from her face, Evangeline dead-panned, “No, like Zhang. I just pronounce it Winther.”
Miss Stone’s upper lip curled with derision. Turning her attention to Mimi, she waved her hand at the stack. “I trust these will be delivered in short order.”
Well, it was official—Miss Winther and Miss Stone would not be riding the BFF train.
“Yes, Miss Stone.” Mimi bobbed her head so violently her chins did the cha-cha. Evangeline had never seen anything like it—not the bouncy jowls—she’d seen that plenty. But Mimi showing deference to another human?
The blonde sashayed away without a word of thanks—to her, who nearly shit herself getting the books. Or to Mimi, who sent her down below where she nearly shit herself.
“Do you have any idea who that is?” Mimi demanded through gritted teeth.
Recognizing she was already walking a tight-rope with her boss, Evangeline kept her mouth shut, opting to shake her head instead.
“Freya Stone.”
When Evangeline’s ignorance shined through her blank stare, Mimi leaned in close and hissed, “Mayor Stone’s daughter.”
Oh…
“Good to know,” Evangeline murmured. Hitching her thumb to a point behind her, she added, “I’m gonna go finish cataloging,” then ducked out from under Mimi’s laser gaze.
After settling into the routine of cataloging, the rest of her shift passed without incident. She was returning the cart to the office when Carrow entered.
“What are you doing with the rest of your night?”
Evangeline massaged a kink at the back of her neck. “Slipping into a coma.”
Carrow blinked. “It’s six.”
“That gives me a good fifteen hours of unconsciousness. I hope it’s enough to wipe out my miserable day.” The mention of it brought back the memory of ditching her car. She groaned. “I forgot my stupid car is in front of the bank.”
“I’ll drive you over,” Carrow offered, grabbing her purse from her drawer in the filing cabinet.
Evangeline dug hers out as well. Rooting through its contents in search of her sunglasses, she said, “Thank you.” And meant it. At six in the evening, it was still hot as Hell’s backside, and the idea of walking in the heat to a car that may or may not start?
She might kill something.
The library closed at six on Fridays, so they each clocked out, said their goodbyes to Mimi, who might have said the same. Evangeline was too antsy to get home to pay attention.
Sliding on her sunglasses, Evangeline followed Carrow to her car—a red Nissan something or other. All she cared was that it started on the first try and the AC worked.
Though it was a short ride, Evangeline buckled her seat belt, then let her head fall back on the headrest. Her eyes drifted shut as she let out a full exhale.
She heard Carrow flip through several radio stations before settling on one Evangeline didn’t recognize. Shrugging to herself, she only half listened to the music as her mind replayed what happened in the basement.
Win…ther…
She had distinctly heard her name. It had sounded wispy and… gravelly, as if it was coming from something that hadn’t spoken in centuries. She’d have laughed it off, but the whole experience had scared the living willies out of her.
Phantom voices were so not her thing—nothing that went bump in the night was her thing. She didn’t believe in ghosts, goblins, or the Tooth Fairy. Unfortunately, she put a lot of stock in psychotic breaks, which she seemed to be having.
She wasn’t quite ready to check herself into the psych ward, but if she spotted Big Foot or a unicorn, she’d consider it.
“Uh… where’s your car?”
Carrow’s question had her bolting upright in the passenger seat. Evangeline leaned forward to peer out the windshield. She spotted the bank—right where it should be—then dragged her gaze across the street, where she’d left her car.
It wasn’t there.
“What the fu—?”
“Calm down.” Carrow patted her arm in a conciliatory manner. “It was probably towed. You can’t just leave it on the side of the road. It’s a hazard.”
“How is that supposed to calm me down?” she demanded, panic climbing her throat. “I can’t afford a tow, much less to get it out!”
Carrow grimaced. “Well, the good news is that we really only have one garage in town. Carlson’s Auto probably has it, so just call them in the morning and explain the situation. I’m sure they’ll work with you.”
Evangeline stared at the grass where her POS should have been. Her groan was loud and drawn out as she sagged against the seat. “I hate today. Can you take me home?”
“Of course.” Carrow shifted her car into drive.
Evangeline lifted an eyelid to peek at her. “Can we stop by the liquor store first? You’re buying.”
Laughter filled the cabin. “Now, those are the Friday night plans I’m talking about.”
Chapter Five
Shane sipped his coffee as he studied the clunker. The paint was the ugliest shade of blue this side of the Smokey Mountains. Any spots that weren’t blue were rust.
He had changed the oil, cleaned the spark plugs, and refilled the other necessary fluids—most of which were nearly bone dry. It had started on the first attempt for him. Amazing how far a little maintenance went. When the woman came to pick it up, it would feel like a whole new car. Kind of.
Uncle Buff exited the office, wiping his hands on a towel. “That girl of yours just called about her car. Told her it was here. She says she’s coming for it.”
Shane nodded. “Good. Did you happen to get her name?”
Buff’s eyebrows rose. “No. Didn’t you get her name yesterday?”
“No.” Shane thought back to their interaction. He probably should have insisted she seek medical attention as she was clearly out of it. But he’d been so caught off guard when she left her car in the middle of the road that he’d simply watched her amble away.
Leaning in the passenger door, Shane opened the glove box, then pulled out the registration. He scanned the details, pausing at the owner name. “Huh,” he muttered in surprise. “Evangeline Winther.”
“Winther?” Buff froze mid-stride. “Son, get that car out of here as fast as you can. In fact, park it out front with the keys inside and leave it at that.”
“What?” Shane chuckled at his uncle. “You can’t seriously believe those old stories.”
“I can, and I do. Trust me—get her out the door and lock it. You want nothing to do with a Winther in this town.” Buff nodded as if that was that before striding toward the open bay door.
The Winther in question passed him on her way in, and Bufford H. Carlson, a burly, no-nonsense, rock of a man pranced out of reach—not that she reached for him, or even noticed, him. But he was determined to give her wide berth.
Buff glanced at Shane with a stern frown. Rolling his eyes at his uncle’s superstitions, Shane waved him off. Buff stomped out without another look.
“You?” Evangeline—assuming she was the registrant of the sleek ride she’d hit his with—stopped several yards short of him, her fists sliding to her hips. Call him cynical, but he didn’t think it was devotion shining in her eyes.
“Me?” he asked, his brows rising at her tone. What the hell could he have possibly done to earn her ire?
“Why did you tow my car?”
“Because you left it in the road.” He hated to state the obvious, but…
Her gaze narrowed.
Definitely not devotion.
“I know I left it in the road. That’s where I expected to find it when I went back a few hours later.”
Was it possible to kill someone with a single glare? If so, he was a dead man. Raising his palms, he said, “I thought it was better than leaving it for someone to hit. Should I have let the police impound it?” As inconvenient as it was to have her car towed, it was a better alternative to another driver smashing into it.
/>
She blew out a huffing breath. Her hands slid off her slim hips to rest at her sides. “No, I definitely can’t afford a ticket on top of a tow. Sorry.”
He nodded. “Glad to help. You seemed to be having a rough one yesterday.”
A snorting laugh burst from her with such volume, Shane nearly went into fight-or-flight mode.
“Wow,” he said, unable to control his own laughter. “That was the most amazing snort I’ve ever heard. Do you practice that thing?”
Another bark escaped her. Her hand slapped over her mouth, but muted giggles still slipped through. She appeared to wrestle herself under control. Shame, Shane thought, enjoying her untampered amusement. She was attractive in the girl-next-door kind of way—until she smiled.
Then she was stunning.
Straightening, she cleared her throat. “No practicing necessary since I was born with the laugh of a braying donkey. But I don’t usually throw that mortification around straight out of the gate.”
Shane found himself grinning. “I’m glad I caught it.”
Heat crept up her neck to settle in her cheeks. Her gaze darted around the garage, landing everywhere but him. Motioning her to follow, he said, “Step into the office. I’ll have you rear-ending more trucks in no time.”
A grumbled groan escaped her, but she followed him into the small office. Every time he stepped into the room, he was bombarded with memories of the hours he’d spent here as a kid, the smell of mechanical fluids, and—
“Is that coffee?” she asked, her pitch soaring at the end.
Shane turned to raise a brow at her exuberance. “Would you like some?”
Her head was bobbing before he finished asking. Waving to the coffeemaker at the corner of his desk, he said, “Help yourself.”
And she did—all but scrambling to the pot as if she thought he would beat her to it. Having already had two cups, he wasn’t in desperate need. But she appeared to be.
She snatched a paper cup, shook in a little sugar, added a bit of creamer, then sighed when she finally poured in the coffee. He couldn’t help but stare as she cradled the cup close and inhaled, then let out an appreciative moan. “Bless you, my good man.”
“Should I leave you alone?” he asked, not quite joking.
A new blush crept into her cheeks. “Possibly. I haven’t had any for two days now. My coffeemaker, my new coffeemaker, fizzled out. The lack of caffeine has been pounding in my head since yesterday morning. I’m betting you can guess what it does for my personality.”
“I feel like no answer is the safest answer to that.”
She let out another tinkling giggle before sipping from the cup. “A smart man, too.”
He wasn’t entirely sure of that. She had hit his truck, walked off and left her own vehicle, and hadn’t seemed quite sane at the time yet, here he was, pushing smitten.
Offering her a chair, he settled into his own. It was an old and worn leather executive chair Buff had used for years. Now that Shane was the owner of the shop, it was his chair. He loved it because it was another memory tie to his family. Uncle Buff raised him after his parents had been killed in a car accident. Being an only child, the following years had been rough. They would have been much harder without Buff.
Shaking off the trip down memory lane, he sorted through the invoices on his desk before pulling the one he’d written up for her. “I, uh, checked the registration to find your name. You’re Evangeline, right?”
She nodded. Her expression was guarded from behind the cup.
Since he couldn’t remember giving his name, he held out his hand. “I’m Shane Carlson.”
Surprise claimed her features as she accepted his hand for a brief shake. Her skin was smooth and warm, and he sort of wanted to hang on to it.
“You’re the owner?” she asked, appearing even more wary.
“I am now. My dad and uncle started this place together. Buff decided to retire, and I decided to take on the family business.” Might as well—he’d been working on cars since he was twelve, and he was damn good at it. The thought of doing something else had never entered his mind, so when Buff asked if he wanted the shop, Shane had jumped at the chance.
“So you’re partners with your dad?” she asked.
“No, my parents died when I was young.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” She shook her head, then set her cup on the corner of his desk. “Let me know what I owe you, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
He almost stated there was no need to rush, but she hadn’t dropped in for a social visit. While he was enjoying their banter, and preferred it not to end so quickly, she probably had places to be. Places she couldn’t go without her car.
“Before we do that, let me run down the list of things I did.”
Evangeline tilted forward in her seat. “What do you mean, list of things? You towed it. That’s all—right?”
Lifting his hand, he motioned for her to calm down. “I changed the oil, filled the wiper fluid, the steering fluid, and the brake fluid.” He met her gaze. “I can see how you hit me.”
Her expression went from irritated to guilty in a flash. Resettling into the chair, she waved him on. That, or the motion was her discreetly flipping him the bird. It happened so quickly he couldn’t be sure.
“Your left taillight was out, but it was just a bulb. And I fixed your fuse to the lighter, just in case you wanted to charge a device. Oh, and I greased your spark plugs.”
Her response was an owl-like blink. Then, “I appreciate you fixing all those things—really, I do. But I came in worrying how I would pay for you towing my car. With everything you’ve done—which I did not authorize—I don’t see how I can afford it. So… unfix it.”
Shane cocked his head. “Unfix it?”
“Yeah. Take out the new oil, degrease the spark plugs, drain the brake line. Whatever. Just undo it.”
“That’s not really how it works. Listen—” he started to tell her that he had never intended to charge her, that he’d fixed the issues out of kindness. She had seemed… harried yesterday. Today, she moved and spoke as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders. There had been a time in his life when nothing had gone right, and he was lucky enough someone had helped him. He wanted to do the same for her.
“All right, fine.” Her exhale was heavy and drawn-out. She lifted her fingers to her temples, massaging circles. “I don’t suppose you accept payments?”
Where the idea came from, he had no idea. But as soon as it formed, he latched on and ran with it. His mouth pinched. “I’m sorry, no. Payment is due all at once.”
Her body seemed to deflate in the chair, and guilt made him doubt himself. He almost said, “Just kidding,” because her resignation was enough to weigh him down.
“How much?” she asked in a tone that made him feel as if he’d kicked a wounded puppy.
Swallowing his nervousness, he stated, “Dinner.”
“What?”
“The cost is dinner. With me,” he added for clarification.
“You want me to have dinner with you?” Her brown eyes narrowed on him. She fisted her hands in her lap, and he wondered if she might take a swing. “What else?”
“What else?” Shane frowned. Then her meaning dawned on him, and he nearly took a swing at himself. He shoved his palms in the air. “Oh, no. No, no, that’s not…no. Nothing else. I swear.”
Her mouth twisted as she pondered him. Heat suffused his face. There hadn’t been an ulterior motive in his offer, but he understood why she might suspect otherwise. If he wasn’t such an idiot, he would have simply asked her out instead of setting himself up to look like a sleazy pervert.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pushing out of his chair. He shoved the invoice at her. “I really didn’t mean that to sound like—”
“I like dinner.”
Shane froze. “Huh?”
Her smile was cautious. “I will have dinner. With you,” she added the emphasis with a smirk.
God, sh
e’s pretty.
His heart thumped in his chest. He smiled. Or he thought he did—he was still a bit dazed and wasn’t certain he didn’t just stare. “Yeah, okay, great.” It came out as one nonsensical word. Realizing he still held the paper, he shoved it at her.
Evangeline took it, her gaze sliding over it. Her head shot up. “You already weren’t going to charge me.”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Does that mean you want to back out?”
“No.” Evangeline shot out of her seat. “Not at all. Tonight?”
“Great.” It was all he could manage with the lump in his throat.
“Six?”
He nodded. “Great.”
Clasping her hands in front of her, as if she were nervous, she asked, “I’ll just meet you here then?”
Please don’t say—
“Great,” he blurted.
Kill me now.
Rather than continue to expound on the greatness of the word great, Shane forced a calm he didn’t feel and motioned her to precede him from the office, then followed her to her car.
“The keys are in the ignition. It should start right up now,” he stated, so he wasn’t standing over her like a goon.
She climbed in, turned the key, and—thank God—the engine cranked to life. Not that he had expected otherwise, but wouldn’t it have made him look like the worst mechanic if it hadn’t?
Evangeline rolled down the window. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome.” He smiled, genuinely pleased to have helped. Not knowing what else to say, he waved. “I’ll see you at six.”
Returning his wave, she pulled out of the garage. Shane watched her drive away until the car was out of sight.
Chapter Six
Evangeline studied herself in the mirror, unsatisfied with her reflection. The pale pink dress boasted a flattering A-line that ended above the knee and was not only comfy but cute and flirty.
For a fifteen-year-old.
“You look ridiculous,” she mumbled, peeling the dress over her head.