by Leslie North
The muscle in his jaw ticked, and he clutched the box against his chest. With a population of around 2,200, Chance had no problem recognizing the women nor remembering how they had always loved to gossip. No doubt, if his presence wasn’t already noted at his father’s funeral, the town would surely hear about him standing in front of his ex-girlfriend’s garage.
Mid-sigh, he froze, his sight lasering onto a black SUV parked just down the street. The side windows were tinted, but he had no trouble peering through the windshield and spying the same asshole who’d crowded Mandy’s space behind the counter.
The revulsion and fear on her face when Chance had first walked in had tripped his instincts. It had taken everything he had not to jump the counter and toss the guy through the window. The only thing that had stopped him from acting was how quickly her body language had changed when she’d realized who stood in the doorway. If she had truly been in trouble, she wouldn’t have been able to eye-fuck him just seconds later.
But why would the guy still be hanging around the garage if he wasn’t happy with the service? Had his parting shot meant something totally different?
Chance crossed the street and vowed to keep an eye on the situation. He might just have a reason to stick around Springwell a little longer.
4
“Mandy?”
Mandy snapped her head up from where she leaned on the heels of her palms, elbows framing the register. “What?” She blinked and cranked her head toward the male voice. “Oh. Vince. Sorry.” She waved a hand. “Lost in thought.” Understatement! Her mind had been consumed by her encounter with Chance since he’d left hours ago. “Did you say something?”
“I, uh.” Vince, her only employee and damn good mechanic, cleared his throat and motioned toward the garage. “I’ve closed up for the night.”
Her gaze whipped to the cheap, white clock hanging above the peg-board with keys. Five seventeen. Wow. Instead of counting the register, she had spent the last seventeen minutes drooling into it. Classy.
Vince shuffled closer. “Um, I really need my paycheck.” His sweaty cheeks pinkened beyond the heat found in the garage. “You were fixin’ to give it to me last Friday, but, um, it’s been a whole week. I can’t wait anymore.”
Embarrassment flooded her veins. “Oh.” She peered at the opened drawer, then back at him. “I’m sorry.”
The wan smile he shot her made her flush, then she spied the lack of funds in the tray and mentally started cursing Walter for taking the little she had—and her father for putting her in the situation in the first place.
Pulling every bill, she counted, but knew it wasn’t enough. “I’m sorry, Vince.” She thrust the small stash at him. “I’ll swing by the bank first thing tomorrow morning to get you the rest.”
Deep creases formed between Vince’s eyes and he accepted the cash. “Yeah. Um. I get that you’ve run into trouble.” His irises flickered, and she knew he hadn’t missed Walter’s constant visits to the shop. She prayed Vince didn’t know the real reason. Walter had already proven he’d target anyone connected to her.
“It’s just—” Vince scratched the back of his neck. “—I’ve got Sue and Megan to take care of and I need a steady paycheck.” Mandy’s heart clenched at the mention of his wife and daughter. They shouldn’t have to suffer because of her father’s bad choices. Vince cleared his throat again. “I, um…look.” His gaze snapped to hers and firmed with resolve. “I’m quitting. I’ll be by tomorrow to collect the rest of my last paycheck. I’ve got an offer from the paper mill to keep their machines running, and I’m going to accept it.”
Mandy schooled her expression so Vince wouldn’t see how much his words crushed her. She didn’t blame him. Honestly, she admired his dedication to his family, but his walking out left her without a mechanic. She had too much work to do by herself, but she couldn’t afford to hire anyone else.
Not his problem. Forcing a smile, she closed the empty drawer. “I understand. I wish you nothing but the best. They’re getting a stellar employee.”
He ducked his head and waved, then strode out the door.
Locking the door behind him, she took two steps, then slumped on a black plastic visitor chair. Staring at the grease still in the crevices of her fingers, tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered, her throat tight from holding the tears back. “I tried.”
Grief at missing her father warred with the anger at what he’d left behind. His gambling debt was just too much for her to manage. He may have left her the garage and house, but she’d also inherited the tab he owed a ruthless bookie. It had come as a shock when Mandy had found home equity loan documents for the full value of the house in her father’s legal file. The money certainly never went into the garage or home repairs, and Mandy had never noticed her father making frivolous purchases. Where had the money gone? The answer came when Walter showed up with two other thugs shortly after she buried her father and explained how George Loomis had been borrowing from Walter’s boss to feed his gambling addiction. The lump payment her father had given them didn’t even cover half of what he owed and the longer the repayment dragged out, the higher the interest rate rose.
I’m going to have to sell the garage. She lifted her eyes and surveyed her sanctuary. No matter what life threw at her, this garage had always given her peace and the ability to tune everything out.
But no longer. She couldn’t see a way to stop the threat to her haven.
Mandy strolled out of the master bedroom in the back of her single-level, Craftsman-style house, tucking a light-green knit T-shirt into her favorite jeans.
“Woah,” her roommate, Pepper Hammond, exclaimed, grinding to a halt in the living room. “Where are you going?”
Within a week of Walter’s visit two years ago, Mandy had done two things. One, gotten a roommate in the form of her best friend since freshman year of high school. And two, gone straight to the FBI. One had worked out, the other had failed disastrously, though it wasn’t the Fed’s fault. They’d wanted her to become an informant to help them uncover the loan shark’s name. She only knew Walter drove down from Atlanta—a little over an hour north east from Springwell—but nothing more. Walter had learned about her FBI visit and to say his retaliation had made her back out of the arrangement and never want to try again was an understatement. Having her roommate robbed at gunpoint as a warning with the threat of even worse on the horizon kept Mandy firmly in line.
But even with Pepper’s rent money, making loan payments to the bank, keeping up with all the costs of running a garage, and Walter’s relentless collection left her with barely enough to buy groceries. Without Pepper chipping in, she’d have been sunk long ago. Her best friend was priceless to her…even if she was a little pushy with her questions.
“Helllllooo?”
Mandy snapped out of her head and eyed Pepper, dressed for her late shift waiting tables at Lunar Brewing Company. “Sorry. Rough day.”
“You’re not in a tragic T-shirt or coveralls.” Pepper motioned to Mandy’s body. “Where are you going? It’s Friday night…hell, I’d ask even if it was a Tuesday. You never go anywhere.”
Warmth heated Mandy’s face and she shifted her socked feet. All right, so it had been a while since she’d had evening plans that didn’t include a movie on TV or a good book. So what? She wasn’t about to waste her own money, and she never had worthy male prospects asking her out. Which might have something to do with her lack of being a girly-girl who slathered on makeup, dresses, and heels to catch men’s attention. “Um. I have a date.”
Pepper blinked. “A date?” A smile stole over her beautiful face. “Who’s the lucky guy? Where did you meet him? Should I warn him you might attack?” Her blue eyes twinkled. “It’s been at least two years since you’ve had a date.” She lowered her voice and wiggled her eyebrows, “Or are y’all skipping the meal and diving into dessert?”
“Ha. Ha.” Mandy maneuvered around her friend and plunked on the couc
h. “You know him actually.” She grabbed her favorite cowboy boots. “You remember Chance McCallister, right?”
At the continued silence, Mandy glanced up and found Pepper’s mouth hanging open.
“Seriously?” Pepper asked, recovering.
“Yep.” Mandy stood and searched for the small purse she rarely used. “He and his brothers are home for their dad’s funeral, but Chance isn’t going back into the Navy.” I brought it out…there. She marched to the open counter that split the living room from the kitchen/dining room. “He said he’s retired.”
“But…” Pepper followed her. “I’m confused. You’re going on a date with the very guy you’ve loved for, like, ever.” She slapped her hands on her hips. “Which sounds romantic until you factor in the way you broke up with Chance when he abandoned you for the Navy. You’re giving him another shot?”
Riffling through the single zippered compartment, she snorted and wondered who she was kidding, carrying the delicate purse. Yanking out her license and the little bit of cash, she stuffed them into her pockets. “Not a shot. Just catching up. In fact,” she said as she tossed the purse on the counter, “I’m overselling it by calling it a date. More like two people deciding to be adults for a few hours before going on with their lives.”
Pepper cackled and linked her arms through Mandy’s, steering her toward the front door. “Girl, you keep telling yourself that. Maybe the bullshit will become believable with repetition.”
Mandy grimaced and pulled free when she reached her aging, but well cared for, pickup. Waving to Pepper who climbed into her own truck, Mandy vowed to keep Chance at arm’s length. Now that she’d gotten over the shock of seeing him again, surely she could manage a few hours in his presence without drooling, tearing down the wall around her heart, or slinging accusations at him for leaving. What other choice did she have but to move on? Their relationship was over and done with.
Dear God, save me. Ten seconds in his presence and she’d already broken one of her vows.
Jeans should not be allowed to mold over thighs like that. Mandy’s eyes slid down the long expanse of Chance again as he led her from the pub’s lobby. Jeans shouldn’t be allowed to hug an ass that perfectly, either. Nor should a simple V-neck cotton T-shirt accentuate the muscles in his shoulders, back, and arms that sinuously.
She barely registered the loud room packed with people itching to throw off the work week, or the music pumping overhead, making it harder to have a conversation. Her gaze riveted on the man wending his way to a booth he secured toward the back.
Water, she silently croaked, needing to quench the desert in her mouth and the fire steadily growing hotter in her female parts that hadn’t seen action in way too long. Solo gratification didn’t count as action.
He pivoted, catching her by surprise. With a supreme lack of grace, due to her eyes studying his ass and not his movements, she slammed into him. His arms immediately wrapped around her, pulling her against a hard, muscular chest she had the overwhelming urge to sink her teeth into.
Then she inhaled. Home.
After twelve years, she’d never expected him to still smell like home—that blend of spicy soap mixing with his skin in such a way no one else had ever matched. The scent of him was so masculine and so ingrained in her psyche she had to get away before she did something really stupid like smash her nose against his pecs and inhale again. This did not bode well for guarding her heart.
Grasping both his biceps, she gulped at the electricity zinging through her veins at the contact. Her fingers clamped tighter, and she fought the impulse to scrape her palms up his arms to caress the sides of his neck. Instead of giving in, she managed to push back enough to steady herself.
His hold loosened, but her world screeched to a halt at the almost black eyes peering down at her. A warning skittered down her spine but it only heightened the sensation at being caught in his predatory gaze. His fingers bit into the sides of her ribs, just below her breasts, and she whimpered, not sure if she wanted him to let go or needed him to stretch his thumbs those last few centimeters.
Tension pulsed around her and coiled inside with every delicious inhale.
Dark brown eyes traced down her face and stopped on her lips. Without even thinking about it, she licked her bottom lip. A low growl in his chest vibrated against her, hardening her nipples to painful peaks.
In the past, Chance had always been dominant sexually, knowing what he wanted but also still learning. Now… A shiver stole through her, damping her already wet panties. Now, an experienced hunter peered through his irises, focusing in on his prey. Confidence oozed out of his pores, and he made no effort to hide he was envisioning fucking her hard and deep. Or that he possessed the carnal knowledge to make her forget her name, and the stamina to erase her memory all night long. A flash of him bending her over the table and burying his length over and over—
“Sheesh, y’all,” a female voice interrupted from beside them. “Tone it down or get a room.”
Mandy yanked her hands away and jumped back. Holy shit. Smoothing her shirt with shaking fingers, her eyes slid to the left to find Pepper grinning as she mouthed, Go for dessert.
Fire flamed Mandy’s cheeks, and she suddenly needed to see what was playing on the TVs mounted in the bar area.
Her roommate snorted, then turned to Chance. “Hot damn, man.” She swished a hand over his torso. “You’ve really grown up. Navy did a body good.”
Laughter barked out of his throat and he shook his head. “Pepper.” He leaned over and gave her a hug.
Mandy had no problem with that. Not at all. No issue whatsoever with her friend’s breasts touching his chest. Nope. She was fine. With. It.
Pepper straightened and shot him a saucy grin. “Please tell me Harris is just as delicious as you.”
Chance scrubbed the back of his head. “Uh, sure. The Marines ‘did a body good,’ as you would say.”
Harris McCallister had been in the same grade as Mandy and Pepper, but Mandy had only ever paid attention to Chance who was in the year ahead of them.
“Nice,” Pepper drew out, her eyes turning dreamy. “I lost my virginity to that man on prom night, and the way he made my body sing the summer following—”
“Stop,” Chance grumbled, shuddering. “That is way more than I ever wanted to know.”
Pepper snickered and pulled a small pad of paper out of her apron. “So, what can I get y’all started with? Lunar’s crafted pale ale is on special tonight.”
It only took a few minutes to settle in the booth, put their beer orders in along with a recommended appetizer, and get Pepper to go away. Or at least that was Mandy’s reason for agreeing to order cheesy bacon potato skins.
Chance entwined his fingers together on top of the table and met her gaze. “You’ve always been beautiful yet somehow you’ve grown even more stunning over the years.”
“Thank you.” She resisted scratching her nose from nerves. She had a love/hate relationship with compliments. She loved receiving them yet never knew how to react. “You’re impossibly hotter than before.” She waved to encompass all of him. “I mean, seriously. Just…wow.”
His grin grew wider, making her heart flutter. “I’m so used to punishing my body with an insane physical workout, these past two weeks have made me feel like a slacker.” He shrugged, the casual movement rippling muscles she seriously wanted to lick. “I’ve done what I could to keep up exercising at home, but it’s not the same.”
“I’ll bet,” she commiserated, then blurted her first thought, “Why in the hell would you want to maintain a SEAL-level workout now that you’re retired?”
He laughed and the rich sound drilled straight to her channel growing damper by the second. “I guess I’m still not used to being out of the military yet. Once I’m settled, I’ll feel better.” His brown eyes flickered. “Looks like you’ve gotten settled though—with the garage, I mean.”
She nodded, working hard to portray the epitome of happiness. �
�Sure am.”
His smile slowly slipped off his face. “Who was that guy earlier? When I walked in, you looked scared and repulsed.”
Every muscle she owned stiffened.
“Then I find that creep sitting in a black SUV, watching the garage when I left.” His brown eyes darkened but not with passion this time. “That’s not the actions of a dissatisfied customer. Are you in trouble?”
“Here you are.” Pepper appeared as if she knew Mandy needed time to figure out an answer. Her roommate plunked down the two mugs filled with the Lunar craft special. “Your appetizer will be out in a minute.” Without waiting for a response, she sidled to the foursome in the booth next to theirs.
Mandy grasped the mug’s handle. “It’s nothing you have to worry about.” She lifted the drink and slurped past the two-inch head crowning the top.
“Mandy,” Chance growled. “I can help. I’ll run the guy off—”
“Absolutely not.” She slammed the heavy glass down. “You’re not swooping in to save me.” She pointed at him. “I don’t need your protection. I’ve done just fine without you for the last twelve years.” Lie. She’d been lonely as hell and adrift even before the bombshell of her father’s debt, but damned if she told him that.
“I would’ve been there,” he retorted in a low tone, his skin whitening around his fingers, “if you hadn’t broken up with me. I thought we were building our lives together.”
Pushing the beer to the side, she leaned forward. “Together signifies we were in sync or at the very least had talked about the future’s direction.” Together should have meant he understood her dreams or even asked her about them, but she bit her tongue from saying it out loud. “It’s pretty hard to ‘build our lives together’ if you’re overseas or on some classified mission I’m not allowed to know about.”
“If you—”
“You know what? This was a bad idea.” Mandy scooted to the end of the bench, then stood beside the table. “Thank you for your service to this country.” She leaned closer. “But that doesn’t mean I owe you an explanation about anyone in my garage.”