Temporary Wife

by Aria Ford

  “I’m Brad Jones,” he said when he fired up the truck.

  “Olivia Storm,” I said with a polite smile. He just nodded and focused his attention on the road.

  I sighed and looked out the window, watching the road zip by us as we flew toward my car. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten myself into such a horrible situation. Not only was I stranded in New Mexico with very little money to my name but I no longer had a vehicle. A feeling of hopelessness settled over me as he sped down the road.

  Brad was quiet, his eyes never leaving the road, not even for a second. When I first saw him back at the shop, I thought he was much older, maybe in his early forties. Now, as I studied his face, I saw he was young, much younger than I would have guessed. Probably only in his late twenties.

  I was struck again by how attractive he was. His eyes were such a deep blue that I knew I could lose myself in them without even trying. His hair was blond with specks of gray already beginning to show. Despite his obvious youth, he looked hardened. Mature.

  My eyes were drawn to his biceps, which were slightly flexed as he gripped the steering wheel. I saw his tattoos back at the shop, but I didn’t want to stare. Now I could see the outline of a bird poking out from beneath his T-shirt. It was a hawk, or maybe an eagle. I couldn’t tell without lifting his shirt sleeve, which was I tempted to do until he cleared his throat.

  I jerked my head around, focusing my eyes on my shoes. The rest of the way to my car I kept my attention away from Brad. It was bad enough that I barely had any money and that my car was currently useless, the last thing I needed was to humiliate myself by staring wistfully at my mechanic.

  We were almost to my car when my thoughts turned to my parents. I sighed deeply, making Brad frown and look my way. I ignored him, and soon he looked back at the road. My heart felt heavy as I wondered what my parents were doing right now. Were they worried about me? Or were they still angry with my decision to leave town?

  I didn’t know the answers to my questions, but even after all my setbacks, I felt confident in my decision. It was bitter sweet to be away from New York. The city was my home, my safe place. Out here, alone in the world, I didn’t know where I would go or what I would do next. All I knew was that I was finally living my life. Really and truly living.

  Chapter 2

  Brad

  It wasn’t as if I had plans, but it was a Friday night. The shop was almost closed when Olivia strolled through the doors, pulling my attention to her. She looked lost when she walked up to the counter, her eyes roaming freely around the lobby. I considered telling her to get lost. It was after five. The shop was closed, and I didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with some spoiled rich girl.

  From the look of her shiny brown hair and perfectly tailored outfit, she had money and plenty of it. Her purse was designer. I didn’t know much about that sort of thing, but I damn well knew it was worth more than my monthly rent. Everything about her screamed wealth and privilege. She was exactly the sort of girl I avoided and yet, I couldn’t turn her away.

  I found myself engaging her, agreeing to help her, and even allowing her to ride along in the tow truck. It didn’t take long for me to realize she was upset. Her green eyes were swimming with emotion as we drove toward her car. It wasn’t in me to ask her about it, so I just drove along in silence. When we finally reached her car, I saw that it wasn’t just Jeep Cherokee like she’d said. It was a brand-new Jeep Cherokee. I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I jumped out of the truck and walked over.

  Olivia hopped out after me, following me over to the Jeep. I motioned for the keys, which she tossed my way. I popped the hood and took a quick look. It wasn’t protocol to evaluate a vehicle on the side of the road, but I was hoping it would be an easy fix, something I could do right there and send her on her way. Much to my dismay, it wasn’t an easy fix.

  “I’ll have to tow it back,” I said.

  “All right,” Olivia said with a nod. “I’ll grab my things.”

  She grabbed two bags out of the backseat. They were designer as well and matched her purse. The only good thing about this girl, other than her curves and tight ass, was that I knew I’d get a good payday off her.

  “Listen,” I said as I cranked the Jeep up and latched it onto to the tow truck. “It’ll cost extra to look at the Jeep tonight. It’s after hours. I can wait until Monday or…”

  “That’s fine,” she said. “Monday works.”

  Her words surprised me. I frowned and studied her face. She just blinked back at me, those brilliant green eyes locked on mine. I cleared my throat and nodded, still surprised by her answer.

  I expected her to hand over her daddy’s credit card without a second thought. She didn’t strike me as the type of girl to hang around on the outskirts of Santa Fe unless she had to.

  She surprised me even more as we climbed back into the tow truck and drove toward the shop. With the Jeep attached, I had to drive slower, and my patience was already wearing thin. I was desperate just to get home and out of my crappy work clothes. It had been a long day and Friday nights were always my favorite. I could kick back with a beer and some food, not having to stress about work for two full days.

  Olivia Storm changed that with her presence. As we drove, I tried to hold on to my annoyance, but my eyes kept glancing over at her, admiring her petite form and strong features. She looked young, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two, but her eyes were darkened from experience. When I looked at them, she suddenly seemed older, more mature. It was as if she’d felt things only people twice her age had ever felt. I instantly felt connected to her, and it was hard to tear my eyes away from her.

  “Do you know any cheap hotels in the area?” she asked, a slight hitch in her voice.

  “Cheap hotels?” I asked, confused.

  “If you can’t look at the car until Monday, I’ll need somewhere to stay,” she explained. “And maybe a cheap restaurant as well. Just somewhere to grab a quick bite before it gets too late.”

  I frowned. Why would she need somewhere cheap? She obviously had money. Why else would she drive a brand-new Jeep Cherokee and tote around designer luggage? It didn’t make sense, but I wasn’t the type to pry.

  “I know a place,” I said. “It’s not far from the shop. I can give you a lift after I unhitch your car.”

  “I don’t think I could pay you for…” she began, but I just shook my head to silence her.

  “No charge,” I said. “It’s on my way home.”

  She nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  We pulled up to the shop, and I backed the Jeep up to the garage doors. Jumping out, I slid open the garage and then hopped back behind the wheel of my truck. I backed the Jeep into the garage and climbed out to unhitch it. The whole time, Olivia stayed sitting in the cab of my truck, just staring out the windshield as if she could see into the future.

  I found myself wanting to ask her questions, to find out more about her. It was strange. Most women I spent time with didn’t inspire me to ask them anything more than their name. Olivia was different. She wasn’t like the other girls who waltzed into my shop. Those girls pulled their windshield wipers off just for an excuse to see me. They hung around until closing time, wearing revealing tops and shorts that showed off their ass cheeks. They wanted me, and I wanted a quick fuck. It worked out for all parties.

  With Olivia, I felt something new stir inside me. Her clothes were tight and fitted but also modest. They didn’t show an inch of skin she didn’t want seen. I could tell her body was insane beneath those clothes, tight and sexy as hell, but there was enough mystery to keep me interested. And interested I most certainly was.

  “I just have to grab something,” Olivia said, jumping out of the truck and hurrying toward her Jeep. She pulled open the door and grabbed a bag full of art supplies. She zipped it up and swung it over her shoulder as she jumped back in the truck.

  She was an artist. I smiled to myself at the thought. We both worked with our hands, what
would that mean for us in the bedroom? Shaking myself, I walked over to my truck and jumped inside.

  Olivia was a customer, that was it. She was hot and intriguing, but it wasn’t like I couldn’t get action elsewhere. I didn’t need to waste my time on someone who wouldn’t hang around longer than it took to get her car fixed.

  “Where is this hotel?” Olivia asked.

  “About a mile up the road,” I said. “It’s not far. You could easily walk to the shop from there.”

  “Perfect,” she said. “And it’s not too expensive?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. There are a few places to eat right around there too. A diner and waffle place.”

  She nodded and smiled her thanks while we drove. As we got closer to the hotel, I stirred with discomfort. I still couldn’t tear my eyes away from her for longer than five seconds at a time. I didn’t want to drop her off and not see her again until Monday. Plus, I was still curious as to why someone with her level of wealth was slumming it in a rundown hotel on the outskirts of Santa Fe.

  “There are some nicer restaurants further into town,” I said, surprising even myself. “If you wanted, I could swing by and pick you up. We can grab some dinner, my treat.”

  “Um…” She frowned deeply, searching for an answer.

  “You need to eat,” I said, shrugging. “I can’t look at the Jeep until Monday. The least I can do is feed you something edible.”

  I pulled up to the hotel and parked. She was still frowning thoughtfully. When she turned to face me, I was sure she would say no.

  “Sure,” she said. “That would be great.”

  “All right.” I nodded. “Be back in an hour?”

  She smiled and jumped out of the truck. Pulling her bags along with her, she made her way slowly toward the front desk. I watched her go, my eyes trailing over her hips and ass. She was sexy as fuck, and there was no denying it. Money or not, rich or not, this girl was captivating.

  Chapter 3

  Olivia

  With the hotel key in my hand, I drug my bags up three flights of stairs to my room. It was the kind of hotel with only outside entrances to the rooms. My mother always turned her nose up at places like this, and I didn’t blame her. I felt exposed as I stuck the key in the door and pushed it open. I stepped inside and tossed my bags on the bed, quickly locking the door behind me.

  As I looked around the room, I forced myself to see the bright side. The room was big and spacious. It looked clean and not too run down. I smiled to myself when I made it to the bathroom and found it stain free. The scent of cleaning surprised hit my nose. My first impression of this hotel was bad, but now I was simply grateful to have a place to sleep for the next few nights.

  I sighed and fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Brad. He seemed nice enough, but there was something about him that made my stomach churn with discomfort. His body language was tense and distant as if he was constantly thinking something he didn’t say. I knew my parents would flip out if they knew I was going to dinner with a man I only just met. It wasn’t my typical behavior, but I was intrigued by Brad Jones, more intrigued than I’d be by anyone in a long time.

  Plus, it couldn’t hurt to be in his good graces. On Monday morning, he would look at my car and give me an estimate. His estimate might be more lenient if we spent some time together and he got to know me a little bit. Sighing again, I pushed myself up to change for dinner. I’d been wearing this same outfit for almost two days, and I felt disgusting.

  I popped in the shower, washing everything but my hair, and then hurried back to the bedroom where I got dressed and slid on my shoes. Brad said he’d be back in an hour and I didn’t want to keep him waiting. With my purse in hand, I slipped out of the room and hurried down stairs to wait in the parking lot.

  Out there, I felt even more exposed. I wrapped my arms around my body and shivered. The night air was cooling off fast, and I realized I should have brought a sweater. Glancing around, I didn’t see Brad’s truck anywhere in the parking lot. I thought about running upstairs to grab a jacket when I heard a loud engine rumbling from my right. I turned to see the familiar tow truck pulling up, Brad’s arm dangling out of the driver’s side window.

  When I saw him, I smiled. I didn’t know why, but the sight of him filled me with warmth. Part of me had been wondering if he was going to show up at all. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he blew me off. We only just met and it was a Friday night, after all. Still, seeing his familiar face in the midst of all this craziness made me relax. As I climbed up in his truck, he smiled at me kindly, and I was immediately taken aback by his appearance.

  Gone were the tatters and grease stains. The shirt he wore was a button up that fit him just right. His jeans were spotless and dark in color. I smiled wider when my eyes fell once again on his face. He’s obviously taken a shower. I could smell the scent of his soap the second I opened the truck door. It was intoxicating but not more so than the sight of his clean face smiling at me, those blue eyes boring a hole in me.

  “Hello again,” he said.

  “Hi,” I said, my voice weak. “Thanks again for doing this.”

  “Of course,” he said with a shrug. “What was I going to do, let you starve?”

  “I wouldn’t starve.” I laugh. “I’ve been fending for myself for a while now.”

  “Yes, but you’re without a car.” He reminded me.

  I sighed. “I know. That pretty much sucks.”

  He laughed, and the sound was like tingling metal. It filled my ears and brought yet another smile to my face. I never expected a man as rough and strong as Brad to have such a gentle, alluring laugh.

  We left the hotel parking lot, and Brad drove us toward town. I expected to stop at one of the diners we passed, but he kept driving until we were almost to Santa Fe. Frowning, my New Yorker instincts kicked into overdrive. Suddenly, I regretted my decision. Just because Brad was my mechanic and incredibly attractive, I decided to go to dinner with him? What if he was a psycho killer? What was I thinking?

  I could already hear my mom’s voice in my head: “Olivia Linette Storm, what are you doing? Did I not teach you better than that? You’re going to killed, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. You made this mess, now lie in it.”

  Just when my imagination was getting the best of me, Brad flicked on his blinker and pulled into a parking lot. The restaurant he chose was much nicer than anything I expected. He said it was his treat, but I’d secretly assumed I would pay for myself. This place was clearly out of my price range.

  “Um…” I said nervously, glancing up at the dark building with a worried look in my eyes. “I don’t think I can afford this place.”

  “I told you, it’s on me,” Brad said simply.

  “I know, but…” He was already shaking his head.

  “Look,” he said. “I feel bad that you’re stuck here all alone without a working car until Monday at the earliest.”

  “So this is a pity dinner?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

  “Exactly.” He grinned to let me know he was joking. I laughed and shook my head.

  “Fine,” I said. “If you insist.”

  “I do,” he said.

  “Just so you know,” I said, climbing out of the truck and following him toward the front doors. “I would have been happy with McDonald’s.”

  “You are not how you seem,” Brad said thoughtfully.

  “How so?” I asked.

  “I just figured you would be…” he trailed off, waving his hand and searching for the right words.

  “High maintenance?” I asked.

  “Well, yeah.” He nodded.

  I laughed. “Then I guess, no, I’m not at all how I seem.”

  Brad looked at me with a mixture of surprise and admiration as he held open the door for me. I stepped inside, and we walked together to the hostess stand. She smiled and welcomed up kindly, quickly leading us to a table for two at the back of the restaurant.

  W
e sat down, and while the place wasn’t five-star, it definitely wasn’t casual. My discomfort quickly faded as Brad and I fell into an easy conversation. We steered clear of anything serious, sticking only to the superficial things about ourselves. It wasn’t how I normally did things. When I dated I liked to dive right into the good stuff. To me, that was the best way to get know a person.

  With Brad, I felt differently. He wasn’t someone I planned to date. Our connection was obvious and instant. His body called out to me in a way no one else ever had and those eyes… God, I could have stared at his eyes for hours without once growing bored. When our feet accidentally brushed each other beneath the table, I felt a shot of electricity run up my body. From the look in his eyes, he felt it too.

  We obviously found each other attractive. The entire night I caught myself gazing at his muscular physique, and occasionally his eyes traveled to my breasts. He would clear his throat, his face flushed slightly and then look away quickly. I could feel the heat between us beginning to rise, and by the time we were served dessert, I was ready to have him for my next meal.

  My heart was pounding in my chest as I slipped my foot closer to his. This time, when we touched, I didn’t pull away, and neither did he. Our feet touched gently, and our eyes met. Sparks flew between us and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to get this man back to my hotel room.

  The logical part of my brain told me to control myself. I didn’t know this man. After my Jeep was fixed, I would probably never see him again. Still, as our eyes stayed lock on each other, desire formed in my stomach. It burned red hot, working its way down to pool between my thighs.

  I swallowed hard and kept staring at him. We tried to keep talking, but neither of us had the energy. Our focus was on each other, our bodies, our needs.