by Ciara Knight
To his surprise, she halted. Her Latino attitude covered her expression—her face looked hot-chili red.
He took her right hand and held it between his, close to his heart. “What happened to you is unforgiveable. A father is meant to protect his little girl, not put her in harm’s way. I’m glad your father’s in jail, or I might consider ruining him my new mission in life.”
“Why would you do that?”
He pressed her palm to his chest. “Do you feel that?”
Stella’s eyebrows rose. “Your heart?”
“Yes. You feel how fast that’s beating? That’s because I want to go murder your father. I’m a soldier to the core. Protecting others was ingrained in me for many years.”
Stella grinned. “You know you’re strange, right? You don’t even know me.”
“I do know you, Stella.”
She chuckled, but her breath quickened. “Please. We’ve spent a few hours together. You don’t know me at all.”
“I know that you like spicy food. You don’t want to do this show, but you want to save your garage because your grandfather took you in when your parents left. You’re a loyal friend to Carissa, and from what I understand, you still hold ill feelings toward Jacqueline for stealing Carissa’s fiancé years ago. You are strong and brave and beautiful.”
Stella slipped her fingers from his grasp. “See, you don’t know me at all. I’m plain, combative, irritable, and I would prefer to be in work overalls than fancy heels.”
He expected her to take off again, but she didn’t. Instead, she studied her dark boots, nudging little white rocks around. “Listen. You need to make me a promise.”
“What’s that?”
“You can’t tell anyone about my father.” Stella looked up at him, lifting her chin high and proud. “No one in town knows except Ms. Horton.”
“Why?” Knox ran his finger along her hairline, tucking the few stray strands behind her ear and then trailed them down her rosy, soft cheek.
“Because, I don’t need everyone knowing my business. Besides, they’d all be mad at me for not telling them all those years ago. I couldn’t, though.”
“Why?” he asked.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Let me try. You didn’t want to tell anyone because you didn’t want people to look at you differently? Because you didn’t want pity or people trying to be overly kind to you because you had suffered? Because you wanted to forget while everyone else would want to talk about it?”
Stella’s eyes went wide, and then she closed them and took a deep breath. “Listen. Just don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
Stella brushed past him. “I wish I could trust you, but you’re a man.”
“I am, but not all men are liars. I am who I am, but I don’t lie about it.”
She unlocked the door and walked inside, leaving it wide open for him to follow, so he took his cue. She grabbed two waters from the mini-fridge and tossed one at him.
“And who are you, Knox?”
“I’m someone who doesn’t want to see you get hurt anymore.”
“How can I trust you?” Stella said, biting her lip. “I mean, you have a record with women and shows. You care more about fame than anything else in life.”
“I would never lie or manipulate to get a woman on my arm for that photo opportunity. Any woman you’ve ever seen on my arm used me as much as I used her. She wanted to climb the entertainment ladder by using my platform, and I’d use her to make my fans believe I was a—”
“Womanizing creep?”
“Harsh.” He unscrewed the top on the water bottle. “Player is the word I was going for.”
“Told you I was irritable and combative.” Stella smiled before she took a sip of her own water. “You’re worried I’m not going to do your show because of the car offer from Bradley.”
“Are you?” Knox set his water on the counter and crossed his arms, feeling his anger bubbling again.
“I never wanted to be on television. I’m not right for the job. You’re wrong for me, and I don’t have time to wait to see if your show puts my garage on the Internet map.” She looked frightened but guarded. “I was going to sell my abuelo’s car so that I could get the money to buy a computer so that I could fix modern cars, something I never wanted to do, but if I got enough business in time, I could save this place.”
“I see. We’ll do the show about car restoration, and I’ll pay you in advance for the show,” Knox offered.
Stella laughed, a defensive kind of snort. “Your show doesn’t work that way, remember? And even if we filmed about car restoration, it isn’t the subject that keeps me from wanting to do the show, it is the price that fame claims on a person’s life. Besides, I don’t need the money. Bradley says he’s bringing his 916 here so that I can restore it and he’s paying me top dollar. Once I get her done, I’ll have enough to catch up on the rent on this place.”
“How much do you need?” Knox asked.
“Don’t you dare reach for your wallet. I’m not looking for handouts, just work. I don’t need a man playing hero to rescue me.” Stella huffed and downed the rest of her water.
“Fine. We’ll figure this out, but trust me. Bradley will take too long too, and I’m here now. I can deliver on my promise. Can Bradley?”
Honk. Honk.
“Expecting someone?”
Stella raced to the large garage door and pulled the chain. “Yes, it’s Bradley in the 916, delivering on his promise.”
Seventeen
A few minutes later, after Knox had excused himself with mention of another important meeting he needed to attend, Bradley strutted around inside Stella’s garage with a pinched face. Stella couldn’t help but think the man looked like the Ken doll Jackie had when they were kids: stiff, faux tan, and plastic. He eyed the kitchen counter, brushed it with his hand as if her garage was so dirty he’d be tainted by touching something, and then leaned against it. “Tell me, how long have you owned this place?” His gaze traveled around the roof line, corners, and to the floor, all the time his lip curling in disapproval.
“My entire life, you could say. Well, since I moved in with my grandparents as a young girl.” She found herself speaking as if she were Jackie at a fashion show in Paris.
“Grandparents raised you, huh?”
Stella stiffened at the thought of his questions leading to something she didn’t want to share, something that Knox already knew. Would he tell anyone? Her stomach gurgled with nauseating acid. If he did, she’d never be able to face her friends and the town when they knew her shame.
“I was raised by boarding schools. Great education, allowed me to meet all the right people,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he’d been asked.
“Why don’t we take a look at the engine to see what we’re dealing with mechanically.” Stella headed for the 916’s hood release.
Bradley rounded the car, meeting her by the driver’s-side door. “I did my research, and you have limited experience but your work is impeccable. I expect my cars to be restored to perfection.”
“How do you know I’m accomplished? You’ve never seen me work.”
He tilted his head at the Chevy. “That’s quality restoration.”
“You judged my ability on one car?”
“I have a confession to make. When I found out you were one of the options for Knox’s show, I researched you and discovered your classic car business and had to check you out. Knox has you to thank, since you moved up the timetable of my offer to him. I’d planned on waiting to see how this season went for him before offering him the show with me.”
“Researched me?” What was everyone’s fascination with her, and how much had he dug up? Did Lori share what she’d found with the mug shot? “Not an interesting endeavor, I’m sure.”
“It wasn’t until I caught a glimpse of you during the segment filmed about the bakery. Then I researched former repairs and car restorations and ran across a
n old Thunderbird you did. It looked brand-new.”
“That was two years ago.” Stella recalled the project with fond memories. It wasn’t often she had the opportunity to restore cars more than just fix them. “Two cars… Not really a good enough sample to statistically decide I’m a good mechanic.”
“I don’t know if you’re a good mechanic. I said you’re great at car restorations, and that’s what I want your show to focus on.” He walked around the car, studying everything. “You see, I own a ton of restored cars. Hard-to-find classics that I pay a ton of money to restore. I believe you’d make an excellent contact for my car obsession.”
She pointed to the 916. “I’m flattered, and I enjoy a challenge.”
Bradly removed his jacket and looked at several surfaces, and then he decided to put it back on and roll up the sleeves. “Then let’s take a look.” He popped the hood and joined her at the front of the car.
“I do my best work with the radio cranked and no one watching. How about I do a full assessment and meet up with you later with an itemized list of what needs to be done?”
He looked at his watch. “Glad to hear it. I’ve got to run. My car should be outside waiting on me now. I’ll be in touch soon.” He bolted from the garage as if he worried his suit would be tainted by simply being near the grease.
She loved the car and the opportunity to work on it, so that’s what she focused on for hours. Her music blared and she found her rhythm. She was so lost in her zone that she never heard anyone call her or open the door.
Not until the music cut off and she shot up, hitting her head on the hood. A sharp pain shot down her neck. “Ouch.”
“Are you okay?” Knox was at her side. “I called out and you never answered. I didn’t want to startle you, so I turned off the music.
She pressed her fingers to the edge of her hairline to discover blood. It throbbed in protest.
“Oh damn… Here. Sit down.” Knox grabbed one of her lawn chairs and eased her into it. “Do you feel dizzy?”
“No. I’m fine. Seriously.” Stella went to stand, but Knox nudged her back. “Let me get a clean rag for you.” He raced out of sight.
“What are you doing here?” Stella asked—but not too loud since her head ached.
“I thought I’d offer to take you out to dinner. This time it won’t be to a steak place, I promise.”
“You mean you came to check up on me,” Stella grumbled. “You want me to put aside this car and work on your show.”
Knox knelt in front of her and gently pressed a damp paper towel to the cut on her head. The man was attentive and kind, a juxtaposition from the man on the Internet.
He chuckled. “Yes, but that’s not why I’m here. I just wanted to apologize one more time for what happened with Lori’s research. You know you didn’t do anything wrong.” The way he looked at her, touched her, leaned into her, promised comfort and hope. Something she couldn’t afford to believe. Not from him. Not from any man. She rested back against the chair to put space between them. It wasn’t because he made her feel uncomfortable but because he didn’t that made her want to run.
“It’s none of your business, and I don’t need you digging up things that are best left in the past. As for dinner, I can’t.” A part of her wanted to abandon her work for dinner, but what did Knox offer except the promise of embarrassment on an international level? Now she understood why Carissa had been so reluctant to be in the first segment. The vulnerability of calling attention to herself and the world wanting to know more about her drove her to want to live under the car hood.
“I know you’re mad, but—”
“I’m not mad.”
He stood and hovered over her, blowing warm air over her cut, soothing the ache. She’d never felt so cared for before. Her father had always told her to stop crying and rub dirt on it. Her skin warmed and her face flushed, but it was the want of his lips pressed to her skin that made her bolt. “I don’t trust you, but that isn’t the point. I have plans tonight.”
Knox folded the red-stained paper towel in half. “Oh. I understand.”
“What, you don’t think I have plans?” Stella’s hackles rose, despite his soft eyes and touch.
“I only meant that I was disappointed because I’d hoped to take you out tonight.” He looked vulnerable, open to knowing her better, humbled.
Her shoulders lowered, and so did her shield. The shield that had protected her from every man who had entered her life since she was thirteen. And at that moment, she’d never been so scared in her life.
Eighteen
Knox didn’t want to return to the office and have to deal with Lori’s questions or to the inn where he’d probably find Carissa and Drew snuggling on the front porch swing having a picnic lunch. He’d love to find the closest bar, but in Sugar Maple the strongest thing he could have was an espresso. He headed for a quiet cup of coffee at Maple Grounds, far from everyone.
To his disappointment, the senior bus pulled up outside and out shuffled five town elders, Davey leading the pack. “What you lookin’ so glum for? A squirrel steal your teeth?” Davey plopped down across from Knox as if he had been invited. “Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. It happened once. Squirrel ran right up on my porch, grabbed my teeth, and skittered away.”
The man was like comedic relief for Knox’s gloomy life, but he didn’t want the entertainment right then. Knox thought about asking why he’d left his teeth on an outside porch but decided that would only open up more conversation.
“So what is it? Girl trouble?” Davey pushed his bony elbow into Knox’s bicep.
Knox snugged his coffee closer to him, cupping it like a life raft. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothin’ wouldn’t have you looking like Eeyore just lost Pooh in the woods.”
Another town elder approached. He’d learned never to call them anything but elders after sweet tea was poured over his head for saying geriatrics. “Is this a private chat, or can I join you?” Mrs. Malter, the tea-pouring lady, sat down before anyone could answer.
“Sure, we were just talking about him yearning for a girl.”
“You mean Jacqueline?” Mrs. Malter covered her mouth with oversized round knuckles.
Davey grunted. “You’re behind on town news. How do I know more than you?”
Knox took a long gulp from his coffee, downing it as fast as he could instead of savoring it.
“Who, then?” Mrs. Malter dropped her hands to the table and smiled scary wide. The woman had big teeth.
“Stella,” Davey said with the movement of a mechanical circus ringmaster who needed oiling of his joints.
“No!” Melba came over, and Knox looked to the door, but before he had a chance to make his escape, the woman put her hand around his arm in a vise grip. The old people in Sugar Maple were eerily strong.
Knox managed to slip his phone from his pocket under the table and text Lori since the elders were too busy arguing over his love life to notice. He knew better than to insult them or he’d pay a great price. No way he’d get tar and southernized like Drew had done voluntarily. The vision of him walking into the town square with leaves and maple syrup covering him still haunted Knox.
“So who is it?” Davey smacked his hand to the tabletop.
Knox thought about lying or telling them that he indeed thought Stella was interesting, but he only shook his head.
“Care to make a wager? I’ll put a twenty that says it’s Jacqueline.” Mrs. Malter rapped her knuckles on the tabletop.
“I’ll put fifty down that it’s Mary-Beth.” The other woman, Ms. Gina, knocked on the table. Davey and Melba looked at the blue-haired woman like the dye had gone to her brain. “Why else would he always be in the coffee shop?” She laughed with a hen cackle.
“I’ll take that fifty.” Davey rapped on the table and smiled like a gambling addict about to score his big win. “I put it on Stella.”
They all looked to Knox to confirm or deny, but he didn’t answer.
/> Melba scooted her chair out. “Well, doesn’t matter. I win.”
“How you figure that?” Davey asked.
Melba’s facial lines deepened from an oversized smile. “Because Jacqueline was overheard saying she didn’t like Knox, and we all know Mary-Beth and Knox would never happen.”
The group of elders nodded their agreement.
“That mean’s I win. It’s Stella.” Davey declared.
“I can prove it’s not Stella,” Melba said with an air of superiority.
“How’s that?” Mrs. Malter asked.
“Because she’s on a date with another man right now.” Melba pointed her finger at the front window, and sure enough, Stella walked side by side with Bradley.
Knox’s gut burned. His muscles tightened. The simple world of Sugar Maple turned on its side. He didn’t know why, but he needed to interject himself between those two. Knox abandoned the geriatric crew and headed outside.
Drew and Lori walked up laughing until they saw him. Drew blocked Knox’s view of Stella. “Don’t do it, soldier.”
“Stand down. I can’t let my chance at a show be destroyed by a beautiful woman.” Knox fisted his hands.
“So you admit she’s beautiful.” Drew’s lip curled into a gotcha grin.
Lori inserted herself between Drew and Knox. “Don’t you have to go meet Carissa? I need Knox here to take a walk with me.”
Knox didn’t move.
A steady breeze made the new green leaves shake the way he wanted to shake Stella until she saw the truth about the man. Lori slid her hand into the crook of his elbow.
Drew stood down but kept an eye on Knox. “I don’t know why he’s with her right now, but I know they aren’t supposed to go out until dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“A meal to talk about the car restoration. They are in business together, remember?”