“Oh my God,” I gasped, leaning in her direction as I eagerly awaited the rest of the story.
“Jackson barely had two nickels to his name, but every day, he’d make the trek through town to knock on old Merle’s door and ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“That’s so sweet!”
Bev smiled. “Yeah. I mean, of course Merle said no over and over again. Told Jackson that his little girl deserved better than some broke, penniless man who couldn’t give her the life and home she deserved.”
I was on the edge of my seat, literally and figuratively. “So what did Jackson do?”
“He told the old man he’d prove he could give his daughter a great life. He worked himself to the bone, doing any job he could, scrimping and saving every dollar, and while he was doing that, he was also building Mary the home of her dreams.”
My jaw dropped as I sucked in a dramatic gasp. “No way!”
Bev’s lips tilted into a blinding grin as she looked over at me and winked. “Oh yeah. Built that house by hand. Took him forever, but once he finally finished, it was so grand, so beautiful, that even stodgy old Merle couldn’t bring himself to deny his baby girl a man who’d work his fingers to the bone—literally—to give it to her. They got married, he moved her in, and they had themselves a whole bushel of kids.”
“Wow,” I breathed, turning back to face the windshield. “Now I love it even more.”
“As you should. The house stayed in the family for generations until a little over twenty years ago when the bank foreclosed on it. Robert Laughlin had gambled away most of his family’s money, so he couldn’t keep up with the payments. On top of that, he was also a lazy slob, so the house was already falling apart. It was so bad already that even the few who could afford the place didn’t want to take on the work, so it just sat there for years and years. And now it’s all yours.”
Now it was all mine. A stunning home that had been built by a man for his woman as a show of love and devotion.
Oh yeah, I totally loved my new house.
While I allowed myself to swoon over one of the most romantic love stories I’d ever heard, Bev made a left turn, past a long fence into a large forecourt. The structure ahead of us looked like a typical mechanic shop, only on a much larger scale. The metal-sided building had five bays stretched side by side with what looked like an office at the very end. I thought nothing of it at first, that was until I looked at the big letters along the top of the building that spelled out Banks Body and Auto Repair.
My stomach sank and my palms grew clammy as I read and re-read the sign. “Banks?”
“That’s right, dear. It’s my family’s name.” Oh fresh hell. Did that mean . . . No, it couldn’t. Fate had been so good to me lately. She wouldn’t possibly hand me this new potential friend if she was somehow related to the one man I’d been avoiding because he made me feel things that scared the absolute shit out of me.
I mean, Banks was a relatively common last name . . . right?
It had been two days since I literally ran into him at the inn, and in that time, I’d probably thought about him at least twenty times . . . a day. God, I was a mess.
She parked her car and killed the engine just as the door I’d assumed led to an office opened, and a big man around her age stepped out. He was the kind of attractive that you knew just by looking at him, he’d been a panty-burner back in the day. I sat and stared up at him as Bev opened her door and climbed out. Before she made it past the hood, he’d come down the set of stairs and was right in her space, hooking a long, solidly built arm around her waist and pulling her against his front.
He kissed her with a possessiveness I’d never in my life experienced with a member of the opposite sex before pulling back and looking down at her with a cat-that-got-the-cream grin.
Shaking off the envy at seeing this big, powerful man so clearly besotted with his wife, I grabbed the door handle and pushed it open, laying a snoozing Crash on the passenger seat before making my way around the front of Bev’s car.
Sensing my presence, the big man’s head came up and his lips pulled into a smile beneath his beard when his eyes landed on me. “Well hey there, beautiful.”
“Honey, I want you to meet Farah. Saw her get into a bit of an accident on the road earlier, so I called Franky to tow her car here. Farah, this is my husband, Cliff Banks, but everyone just calls him Banks.”
“Hi, Banks. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise, sweetheart,” he replied, then his brows tugged into a deep V. “You okay? Not hurt or anything?”
“I’m fine, thanks. But that’s more than I can say for my car.”
“A cat darted right out in front of her as she was drivin’,” Bev told her husband. “She swerved to miss him and ended up in a ditch with a blown-out tire.”
That frown remained in place as his deep, rumbly voice declared, “You should never swerve to miss an animal, darlin’. That’s all kinds of dangerous.”
I curled my lips between my teeth and bit down to keep from laughing at the utter ridiculousness of being scolded by three different people at three separate times for braking for a cat. I thought I’d been spared the lectures since no one here really knew me. I guess I was wrong.
“Think that’s a lesson learned, darlin’.” Bev looked at me with humor dancing in her eyes, and I felt my own doing the same. Then in the blink of an eye, our shared look was broken with just one word.
“Hummingbird?”
My skin broke out in goosebumps at the sound of Cannon’s rich, smoky voice. My head whipped around to where he was coming out of the closest open bay. A pair of blue coveralls were covering his legs with the sleeves tied around his lean waist, giving me the perfect view of the white tee that was streaked with black smudges stretching across his powerful chest and shoulders. His tattoos were on full display, and I had the insane urge to reach out and trace the intricate designs with my finger. Those infamous motorcycle boots were on his feet, and he was wiping at his hands with a rag, drawing my attention to his long, thick fingers.
The instant his gaze landed on me, a smirk stretched across his face, and he looked me up and down just like he had that very first night at the bar. My whole body blushed at his perusal. Hell, even my legs felt like they were on fire beneath my jeans.
“Gotta say, this is a pleasant surprise,” he said as he made his way in my direction, stopping just a few feet away.
Bev’s head swiveled as her eyes bounced between the two of us. “You two know each other?”
“No.” I answered at the same time Cannon said, “Yes.”
Bev and Banks looked between the two of us with open curiosity.
“I’m a waitress at Bad Alibi. We’ve seen each other there, but that’s it,” I added quickly, ignoring the way Cannon’s eyes on me felt like lasers against my skin. “We don’t actually know each other, know each other . . . if you know what I mean.”
God, now I was rambling and saying stuff that didn’t make any damn sense. That was how off balance he made me feel.
“At least not yet.”
I whipped around at the proximity of his voice. I hadn’t realized he’d moved closer until I felt his breath whisper across my ear and neck and the press of his hand against the small of my back. The heat from his large palm radiated through my shirt, and it felt like my skin was on fire.
Other than the occasional hug from Jase and Bennett, I hadn’t been touched by a member of the opposite sex for eight long months. Much to Lance’s detriment, that had included sex. After what that man had taken from me that night, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to be intimate, not even with my fiancé, something my ex couldn’t—or more to the point, wouldn’t—understand.
But right now, standing beneath the sun in the forecourt of a garage, I wasn’t frozen with panic. As a matter of fact, that simple touch lit me up inside. And that terrified me for a very different reason. I wasn’t ready to feel something like this. I wasn’t ready t
o be attracted to another man. My body and my mind were at war with each other when it came to Cannon Banks, and I felt like I was being torn in half.
The two of us had entered into a staring contest I hadn’t realized was taking place until Banks cleared his throat.
I shook off the daze Cannon managed to put me in any time we were near each other and took a step back, breaking from his hold and clearing my throat as I struggled to get my body in check.
When I looked to the older couple, I discovered they were watching the interaction between Cannon and me with far too much interest. And for some reason, Bev looked positively giddy as her gaze ping-ponged between us.
“Farah here got herself into a bit of an accident earlier,” Banks explained to Cannon. “Franky’s on his way in with the car. You got time to have a look at it?”
“I’ll take care of it,” he answered then turned his attention to Bev. “Ma, why don’t you take Farah into the office? Get her some coffee or somethin’ while you guys wait.”
Ma. Well, there you had it. Cannon wasn’t just related to the sweet woman who’d been a blessing earlier. He was her freaking son. Damn it all to hell. I guess six degrees of separation wasn’t that uncommon in a small town like this.
Bev moved close and stood up on her toes, placing a kiss on Cannon’s scruffy cheek. “All right, honey. See you in a few.”
With that, Bev took my hand and began leading me away.
In spite of my brain screaming at me not to, I couldn’t help but look back over my shoulder just in time to see Cannon’s eyes trail from my ass to my face. Then he gave me a wink that made a whole swarm of butterflies erupt in my belly.
Oh yeah, I thought as I followed after Bev. This man is all kinds of dangerous.
Chapter Seven
Farah
I’d done my best to ignore Bev’s knowing grins and sideways glances as we hung in the office and waited for news of my car. It was almost as if she could read every thought in my head and knew just how discombobulated her son made me.
Problem was, I didn’t have anything to distract me. My phone was now a worthless block of plastic and glass, and Crash—who I’d gotten out of Bev’s car—was still sleeping. The lazy bastard.
“So,” Bev started, breaking the silence that had enveloped us as the minutes ticked by. “Do you have a boyfriend, Farah?”
“Uh . . . no. I don’t.”
Her eyes flashed as her grin grew bigger. “That’s surprising. A gorgeous girl like you. I’d have thought some lucky man would’ve snatched you up by now.”
I didn’t mention Lance, knowing that would only lead to more questions I had no desire to answer, so in response, I simply shrugged.
The expression on her face indicated she wanted to delve deeper, but before she had a chance, the door to the office opened and Cannon stepped inside, minus the coveralls this time.
“Hey honey,” Bev said brightly. “So what’s the damage?”
He planted his hands on his trim hips and answered, “Well, the good news is, there’s only some minor scratches to your front fender, nothin’ that can’t be buffed out. And you didn’t damage the front axle.”
I released my bottom lip from between my teeth and asked, “And the bad news?”
“Your rim is bent to shit, so it’s not gonna be as easy as just replacing the tire.”
“O-kay,” I dragged out. I was clueless about car repairs, but if I had to guess, a bent rim wasn’t a good thing. “So what does that mean? Can you fix it?”
“Can’t fix a bent rim, Hummingbird. You’re gonna need a new one. And seein’ as we don’t get a lot of Mercs comin’ through here, we don’t have one on hand. I gotta order one.” His attention shifted over to a snoozing Crash, and when they returned to me, I saw the admonishment in his gaze loud and clear. “That the cat you swerved for?”
“Yes.” I quickly lifted my hand to cut him off, knowing full well what was coming next. “And before you say it, I’ve already heard it from Bev, Banks, and Franky, so I don’t need a lecture from you too.”
Bev’s laughter sounded from behind me as Cannon grinned. And damn it was a good grin. “Well, since you learned your lesson, I’ll let it slide, Hummingbird.”
Ignoring the heat that endearment caused to spread through my limbs, I kept my expression flat as I asked, “So how long do you think it’ll take for a new rim to come in?”
He lifted a tattooed arm and scratched his jaw, causing his thick bicep to stretch the sleeve of his shirt. “Hard to say for certain, but I’ll put a rush on it, try and get it here in two or three days.”
It wasn’t the most ideal situation. Fortunately, the inn was close to Bad Alibi, so I could easily walk to and from work.
As if reading my dismay, Cannon spoke again, pulling me from my musings. “You on at the bar tonight?”
I gave my head a shake. “I don’t have a shift until tomorrow.”
“All right. Just gimme a few minutes and I’ll give you a ride back to the inn.”
My stomach twisted as he began to turn away. I struggled enough as it was just having this man in the same building, there was no way I could handle riding in a car with him. “You don’t have to do that.” I spoke quickly, bringing him to a stop. “I mean, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve already taken enough of your time.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bev interjected. “He’s happy to help. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Really,” I continued to argue. “I can just walk. I’m sure the inn is close.”
“Carryin’ that cat the whole way?” Bev let out a snort. “Absolutely not.”
Panic began to swell in my chest, however, it wasn’t the debilitating kind I’d been dealing with recently. “I could call a cab. I don’t want to put anyone out.”
Once again, Bev was there to shoot me down. “Didn’t you say your phone was broken?” I looked in her direction just in time to see triumph spread across her face. “It’s settled,” she said, hooking her purse over her arm. “Cannon will give you a ride back.” Before I could object further, she moved to Cannon and lifted up, placing another kiss on his stubbled cheek. “Now, I’m off. I’ve got some errands I have to run. It was lovely to meet you, Farah. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”
With that, she waltzed right out of the office.
“You done tryin’ to avoid me?”
At Cannon’s question, I pulled my eyes from the door Bev had just disappeared through. He moved in, coming to a stop less than a foot away. It wasn’t close enough to be a total invasion of my personal space, but it was enough that I could smell crisp, clean cotton mixed with a hint of motor oil. It shouldn’t have been a pleasing combination, but on him it really was.
“I-I’m not—”
“Yeah, you are.” His words briefly pulled my attention to those full lips. “I’m not blind. You’ve been bustin’ your ass to avoid me since the first night you saw me at the bar.”
My chest rose on a stuttered breath as I stared up into those golden-flecked eyes “Th-that’s not . . . I mean . . . I don’t—”
“Either I make you nervous, or you’ve got a problem with me. So what is it, Hummingbird? You nervous?” His head lowered at the same time he reached up to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen from the knot at the top of my head behind my ear. “Or does the princess who drives a car worth almost a hundred grand think she’s too good to talk to a mechanic?”
“Of course not!” My back shot straight and a chill skated over my body at the implication that I was just as shallow and judgmental as my parents. “I’d never think something like that,” I snapped, the offense clear as day in my voice. “I didn’t even know you were a mechanic until just a little while ago. Not that it would’ve mattered because I think it’s a perfectly respectable profession. Without mechanics, idiots like me who brake and swerve for cats would be screwed! And that car was a gift. I didn’t realize how much it cost until you pointed it out, but now that I do, even I’ll admit that
’s a ridiculous amount for someone to spend on a vehicle. I’d never judge someone on how they choose to live their lives. For crying out loud, I might drive a Mercedes, yes, but I’m a waitress at a bar! What kind of person would that make me to look down my nose at someone else for their chosen profession?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I’ll tell you. It would make me a terrible person. And I’m not a terrible person. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’d like to think I’m pretty nice. Or at least I try to be. So I’d never think I was too good to associate with you. That’s absolutely ridiculous!”
By the time I finished my rant, my chest was rising with each heavy breath I pulled in.
“So I make you nervous,” he said in a low, hypnotic voice as he stepped even closer. “Tell me, Hummingbird. Why do you think that is?”
Oh sweet, merciful hell. I’d really stepped in it this time. Just like I had during my first encounter with Darla, I’d gone off on a tangent and revealed more of myself than I should have. I just couldn’t stand the thought of him thinking so little of me, and I’d gotten lost in an effort to make my point.
“I . . . it’s not . . .” I trailed off, unable to formulate words with him standing so damn close.
His lips tugged up into a smirk, and once again, my focus was pulled their way. “I’ll give you some time to think on that,” he said with a rough chuckle. Then he stood tall, grabbed my hand, and started leading me out of the office.
Bad Alibi: a Redemption novel Page 6