by Lily Black
Why couldn’t it be the work of some young vandal, passing through and slashing tires as he went? Sure, that was a long shot, but it was possible, even in Willowdale. Or she might have driven over a sharp branch that had punctured the tire shortly before she parked. Possible, but another explanation was even more likely.
The slashed tire was the work of her stalker, and he had just taken off his kid gloves.
Even as the thought formed in her mind, Alexa shook it out. That was ridiculous, and she wouldn’t let herself be paranoid. She’d been down that road before and wasn’t going there again. So what if she’d received a few unexplained gifts? In both the library and Crouching Tiger, she worked with kids who might have left her something nice without signing their names. The gifts were probably in no way connected to her tire being slashed. But despite that logic and the warm October sunshine, she couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran up her back and raised the hair on her scalp.
A truck pulled up behind her, and Alexa felt her fight instincts go on alert before the guy rolled his window down. Relief left her legs feeling noodly when she saw the friendly face. Stuart Odel was one of the hardest working brown belts at Crouching Tiger, soon to make black belt.
“Got a flat, huh?” he asked. “Need a hand?”
“Yeah, but I’m fine,” Alexa said. He was probably on his way to Crouching Tiger, and she didn’t want to make him late. The instructors went easier on adults who were late, but it was still frowned on. “The hardest part is digging down to my spare, and I’m near the bottom now.”
Stuart chuckled and moved his hand as though he was going to kill the truck and climb out, then his eyes focused on some point behind Alexa, and his face blanched.
Alexa glanced back to see Drew walking toward them, rolling up the sleeves on his blue dress shirt as he walked. She flushed with anger and mentally kicked herself for letting him think he was going to help her in any way. It was obvious Stuart had Drew pegged as her savior, and just as obvious that he wasn’t thrilled to see Alexa hanging out with Crouching Tiger’s flashy new rival and direct competitor. She knew rumors were flying around the school that Drew could put them out of business. Stuart worked part-time as Crouching Tiger’s maintenance guy, so if that were to happen, he would be out of a job she was pretty sure he counted on.
Yet another example of how Drew coming to town made all their lives worse.
Alexa turned back to Stuart with an explanation on her lips, but he was already rolling up his window, his face closed. He gave her a quick nod and pulled away just as Drew reached them.
Alexa let out a breath of air that was almost a curse.
“Sorry, did I chase off a white knight?” Drew smiled as he spoke but eyed the departing truck.
“Of course not,” Alexa answered. “Stuart stopped to see if I needed a hand. Which I don’t.” She flipped up the carpet on the bottom of the trunk and tugged at the spare tire.
“I’m sure that’s true,” Drew said. “But you’re wearing white, and my mother taught me to respect the laundry gods.”
Alexa glanced down at her shirt. Her blouse was creamy white and made of a silky material. Below that, her mid-length skirt fluttered above black boots. Definitely not an ideal mechanic’s uniform, but at least the sleeves on her blouse could be unbuttoned.
While she tugged at the buttons on her cuffs, Drew reached past her and spun the nut holding the spare tire in place. Then he pulled the donut spare out and reached back in for the jack.
Alexa snatched the jack before he could take it. “Thanks all the same, but I meant what I said. I can change my own tire.”
Drew simply nodded and set the donut down. His voice was casual. “Better to change it yourself than accept a hand from the devil, right?” He tilted his head slightly as he met her eyes. His were deep brown and held humor as well as some other emotion that she couldn’t read. He quirked one eyebrow. “After all, you can’t have it get around the dojo that you’re fraternizing with the enemy, a money-grubbing bastard with no respect for tradition and no real knowledge of the ancient martial arts.”
Alexa felt her jaw drop and heat flash into her cheeks. She’d called him those things along with a few other insults. She’d been very angry at his flashy talk of “real-world martial arts” and “effective self-defense.” She doubted he was ignorant regarding what his words implied about Crouching Tiger—and everything that Crouching Tiger wasn’t. But she hadn’t thought he would hear her rantings.
Okay, so maybe she’d let her mouth run on, but it had only been with one or two close friends… and her black belt buddies… and her fellow librarians.
Drew, taking advantage of her surprise, removed the jack from her hands and fit it under the frame of her car.
“I’m not complaining,” he said. “With our history, all the drama and name-calling has generated interest in my studio. Not all of it good, of course. But enough people have come to me with questions that I’ve been able to clarify what mixed martial arts is all about.” He flashed her a grin that was one part charming, two parts teasing. “I expect to have a good turnout for my grand opening next week.”
Alexa grabbed the lug nut wrench and waved it around a little wildly. “Well, isn’t that great? You can show them all the nifty moves you learned as a Ranger and maybe outfit them with an AK-47. Or would you rather show them how to climb a sheer cliff while making a picnic lunch?”
She’d meant it mockingly, but instead it came out sounding almost like admiration. Which only annoyed her further. She stomped over to the flat tire and crouched beside it, straining to loosen the lug nuts. If she could just get them started, the rest would be easy.
Drew’s silence while she pulled only made her yank harder, but the bolts absolutely refused to budge. She could probably break them loose if she jumped on the lug wrench, but in her skirt and boots, she wasn’t sure she could keep her balance. What if she fell in front of Drew? Or worse, what if she fell into Drew?
He glanced back at the store. “It looks like the store might be closing—you know Ms. Phyllis and her odd hours. Maybe you’d better pick up your Crazy Pops before she locks up?”
Alexa could hear his unspoken offer. She could save face by picking up the pops, and he would get the tire changed before she came back. She didn’t know which was worse—that she was going to have to let him change the tire or that he felt the need to protect her dignity.
She dropped the wrench without a word and marched back to Crazy Pops to rescue the bag of treats. As she opened the shop door, she looked back at Drew, who was busily changing her tire. She shook her head. There was no understanding that man.
He hadn’t said boo to her when he moved back to Willowdale, hadn’t even asked her out for coffee, let alone apologized for how he’d treated her five years ago. Was it any wonder she hadn’t welcomed him and his MMA school? The whole thing made her blood boil. He was the last person she would call a friend. Yet there he was, helping her out as if they were best buddies.
And what had he meant by “our history”? Just how did he view that little episode in their past? A three-week fling? Crazy summer love?
Five years ago, she had fallen deeply in love with Drew, and at the time, she believed he felt the same. She’d thought it was one of those incredible romances that blossomed overnight because true love couldn’t be denied. As she grew more experienced, she realized just how naive her little crush had been and how Drew must have viewed her as totally insignificant. Sure, the sex had been fantastic, and Drew had been a thoughtful and attentive boyfriend, but he wasn’t the staying type. It had just been a pleasant way for him to spend his leave before he got back to his real life in the army. In the years since, he’d probably charmed his way through dozens of weeks of leave, making each girl feel cherished for just as long as he was there.
In the end, Alexa had been left to regret the strength of her own feelings. And sh
e had kept on regretting them through every relationship since. Better to be alone and bitter, though, than to ever admit how badly she’d fallen for the darling playboy.
She would never expose herself to that kind of pain again. If he wanted a polite—and false—friendship, two could play that game.
Inside Crazy Pops, Mandy took one look at Alexa’s face, and her eager grin faltered. “Oh, I thought—Drew said you had a flat, so um…” She trailed off, her eyes confused.
Obviously, she’d thought that all it would take for Drew and Alexa to fall madly in love once again was a flat tire and a few moments of his muscles bulging as he changed it.
Alexa bit back a groan and made her voice pleasant. “Yes, I had a flat tire, but thankfully, I’m ready to go again. Could I have my pops, please?” She knew she was telling a lie of omission by ignoring the fact that Drew was back there changing her tire, but she simply couldn’t stomach a single word of Mandy’s girlish speculation.
Mandy seemed to sense her mood and was quick to get the bag of pops and wish Alexa a nice afternoon. But Alexa’s conscience was already bothering her.
“I’d also like—that is, could you add a kiwi and fruit pop to my order?”
Mandy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, of course! Good thinking.” She rang up the pop and handed it over, smiling at Alexa as if they shared a secret.
Alexa endured it because she’d done more than her share of grumping this afternoon already.
Let Mandy think whatever schoolgirl fantasies will make her heart happy. Alexa saw picking up the extra pop as her way of paying Drew back for changing her tire, so she wouldn’t feel indebted to him. She schooled her features into a pleasantly polite look as she walked back to her car. That same look was usually reserved for old Mr. Rine, a patron of the library who had a reputation for being difficult.
Alexa kept the bland smile in place as she approached, even when Drew glanced up and seemed to look appreciative before glancing away. It was kind of nice, actually, to know she still looked good to him. Let him savor a little regret.
She breezed past him and set the bag of treats on the passenger seat of her car. Taking out the pop she’d bought for Drew, she shut the car door just as he put the jack back into the trunk.
“You missed your calling in life,” Alexa said as she came up beside him. “You should have worked in a NASCAR pit.”
Drew chuckled. “Only if the driver was a beautiful woman.”
She took a half step back, not sure if she felt more flustered at the implied compliment or more disgusted that he seemed to be confirming her opinion of him as a playboy. Giving her head a tiny shake, she held out the pop to him. “I picked this up for you. My way of saying thank you.” It didn’t come out as smoothly as she would have liked, but it was the best she could do.
“Thanks. That’ll just hit the spot.” Drew wiped his hands on a scrap of cloth before he reached for the pop. His deep-brown eyes met hers in that intense way he had before glancing down at the pop. His hand hesitated for just a fraction of a second.
Alexa frowned. What was wrong with it? Why didn’t he just take it? She looked at the pop, too, and felt a furious blush flash up into her cheeks. She’d intended to buy him a random flavor without giving it any thought. Apparently, she’d bought kiwi-passion fruit, the pop the two of them used to call the “kissing pop” because it made for great kisses afterward.
She dropped the pop as though it had suddenly sprouted legs and turned into a spider.
Drew caught it, cradling it in his hand as his long fingers cupped around it.
Alexa took another step back. Her polite smile was long gone, and her breath was coming fast. She bent and began furiously tumbling her mess of stuff back into the trunk. Her words came out in a rapid fire. “Thank you, again. Very nice of you. Now I’m off to class. Best get all this stuff cleaned up so I won’t be late.”
She threw the bo staff in last on top of the rest the mess and turned once again to face Drew. Her hand was on the trunk, ready to slam it shut.
He was rolling her flat tire over to his truck. He gave her a ready smile as he tossed it in the back. “This tire won’t fit in the pocket left by your spare, so no point in trying to fit it in. Tell me where you want it repaired, and I’ll drop it off for you.”
Alexa groaned inside. Letting him take her tire would mean he would be doing yet another nice thing for her, but the alternative was unpacking everything from her trunk in front of him again, while he sucked down his passion pop. That made the decision easy, really. “Handy Man Auto and Tire, if it’s not out of your way.”
Drew nodded. Was it just her imagination, or did his grin look a little too happy about her choice of Handy Man’s?
“Thank you again for changing the tire,” she said stiffly, trying to get them back on professional footing. “I’m happy to return the favor any time.” Return the favor? Right, like he was going to need her help getting his tire changed.
“No problem. Happy to help.” Drew held out his hand—which he’d cleaned off—for her to shake.
Reluctantly, Alexa extended her hand. She normally hated wimpy, fingertip handshakes, but today, that was all she was willing to offer.
Their fingers touched, palms hovering a breath apart. It felt like a splash of rain on parched, dry earth.
Drew’s fingers wrapped around hers, cradling her hand like a man holds his lover. She couldn’t stop the tremor that ran through her fingers.
Drew cleared his throat. “Alexa, is this enmity necessary? We both have a passion for martial arts. My mixed martial arts school could be an asset, a real support to Crouching Tiger, if you’d give it a chance.”
Alexa jerked her fingers free as if they’d touched a live socket. “Crouching Tiger doesn’t need your support and doesn’t want it.”
Drew held up his hand, asking for her to wait. “I’m not saying Crouching Tiger needs my help. But we could be stronger working together. I’ll be stopping by your school to see if Master Hays would be willing to offer a demonstration from Crouching Tiger students at my grand opening. I’d appreciate having you back me up.”
Alexa couldn’t believe her ears. Was he truly going to bargain her school in exchange for his help with her tire? He was asking for her support because she’d offered to—oh, it was too much. No words came out of her mouth, but sometimes, words weren’t needed. She whirled around and jumped into the driver’s seat of her car then drove away without a backward glance.
From the hot flush that made her face tight and her ears ring, she couldn’t tell if she was more mortified or angry. She should be grateful, because for just a second, she had been influenced by his charm, his looks, and the way her every pore seemed to open up when he was close. It was a very good thing he’d reminded her what kind of man he really was—the kind who didn’t stand a chance with her.
Chapter Two
Alexa parked her car a little ways down from Crouching Tiger, tucking it behind a big van so there was no chance anyone in the dojo would see the spare tire. It wasn’t that she was ashamed she’d let Drew help her change it—she just wasn’t in the mood to discuss it, so she would rather avoid questions. In a town like Willowdale, word was sure to get out, but hopefully this would buy her time.
With the bag of Crazy Pops swishing in her hand, Alexa broke into a skimming jog that accommodated her skirt and cut across the parking lot to the sidewalk.
“You don’t have to run,” her friend Keri called from up ahead. “We know about your flat, so we put the meeting on hold ’til you got here.”
“Oh… great.” Alexa slowed to a walk and eyed her friend. With her sleek black hair pulled back into a ponytail, and her willowy figure dressed in the white martial arts uniform, Keri looked like an advertisement in Martial Arts Monthly. But how had they heard about the flat? And more importantly, did they know who’d helped her?
Ke
ri fell into step with Alexa and leaned in. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, what caused the flat? Could you tell?”
Alexa’s gut clenched, and she gave thanks that her stomach was empty. She’d been so worried about Drew and what people would think of him helping her that she’d managed to put the ugly slit in the tire sidewall out of her mind.
“Your face tells me all I need to know,” Keri said. “It was slashed, right? Have you told the police?”
“No, but I will talk to Master Hays, see what he suggests.” Alexa stepped past Keri and opened the door to the school, hoping that would end the discussion. She knew Keri didn’t understand her reluctance to go to the police, and she wasn’t sure she understood it herself. She just knew—from painful experience—that getting the police involved meant paperwork, questions, and a willingness to let them examine every private detail of her life.
“Alexa.” Keri tugged her into the meeting room on the side of the lobby and shut the door. “I don’t want to badger you about this or upset you, but you’ve helped me teach the women’s self-defense class. What is it we always tell them? The sooner you talk to the police, the sooner they can start collecting evidence and building a case about this guy. The number one mistake women make is keeping a stalker situation to themselves and trying to handle it alone.”
Alexa sighed and sank into the nearest chair. “Right. I know. But how can the police do anything when I don’t know who it is? There’s no evidence, no face. I’ll contact them as soon as I feel they can help, okay?”
Keri looked mutinous, but the room was filling up with their fellow black belt instructors, so she let it drop, for which Alexa was grateful. Someday, she was going to have to tell her friend about the violent assault she’d witnessed her last year of college and the months of paranoid fears and panic attacks that had followed. Someday, but not today.
As the instructors settled around her, Alexa passed out the Crazy Pops and nibbled quietly on her own Mexican chocolate. Brian grabbed Keri’s attention, asking if she’d seen the latest episode in a show they were both watching.