Finding Faith (Return 0f The Dragons Book 1)

by Grace Brennan

  Her eyes turned grudging as she pursed her lips. “Well, I have the interest and the ability. Maybe you’re right, but that doesn’t mean you should assume all women lack those things.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” he replied simply. “Do you mind telling me what your truck started doing? Not because I don’t think you can fix it, but just because I’m curious.”

  She eyed him with suspicion—a different kind than the look she usually wore, he was happy to say—for a moment before answering. “The engine started running rough on the way in. When I left the bookstore, it was missing out, and it felt sluggish, like it was barely pulling its weight. I’m thinking it’s the spark plugs, but it hasn’t been long since I gave it a tune up.”

  Eyebrows raising, he nodded, impressed despite himself. That would have been his first guess, too. Despite her assertation that it hadn’t been long since she replaced them, she started pulling out the plugs one by one and checking them before replacing them. Finally, a noise of satisfaction sounded low in her throat as she looked at one of the plugs.

  And fuck if that noise—even though it had nothing to do with him, attraction, or anything close to those—didn’t shoot straight through him, lighting up every inch of his body before curling heavily in his gut.

  Whatever it was she was doing to him still felt like a mystery, something he couldn’t explain, but he was here for it. He had no desire to deny it or fight it. Instead, he relished it.

  And even the beast inside of him was quiet in the face of Olivia and what she did to him.

  Holding the spark plug up, she showed it to him. “It’s a foul plug. See the carbon? That’s what’s wrong.”

  He could tell at a glance that she was right, and despite agreeing with her that women could know their way around cars, he was still impressed. Call him a sexist, but it was his experience that most women wouldn’t have even thought to check the plugs.

  Hell, most he knew would have freaked out at their car suddenly acting as Olivia’s had, then they would have called a guy they knew or a garage. He meant no disrespect to women, in any way, shape or form—it was just the way it was. He even knew some men who would have done the same thing.

  And despite the fact that he really had no right to feel it, pride still filled him.

  Smiling with quiet satisfaction, she replaced the spark plug and shut the hood, grimacing at the sight of her dirty hands. “I just need to run to the parts store I saw and get a new plug.”

  The last thing he wanted to do was take the smile off her face, but he had a feeling his next words would do it. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the parts store is closed. It closes at noon on Fridays and doesn’t reopen until Monday.”

  As expected, her smile faded, and she shot him a frown. “Um, what do y’all do if your car breaks down over the weekend?”

  “Wait until Monday,” he replied with a shrug and a wry smile. “Remember, everyone here knows everyone else. If we need a ride, or even to borrow a car, there’s always someone ready to help.”

  Frown deepening, she walked to her open door, reached inside, and reemerged with some type of wet wipe. Cleaning her hands off, her frown deepened, and it was all he could do to not reach out and smooth the lines between her eyes.

  His fingers twitched with the need, but he clenched them into fists. Too soon, he chanted in his head. Way too soon.

  “The other d—women have cars I could borrow if I need to get back to town before Monday, I guess.” Biting her lip, she shot a contemplative look at her truck. “I know it won’t necessarily hurt the engine if I drive it back home today, but I hate to. I don’t guess I have a choice, though.”

  He briefly wondered over the stutter in her words, but quickly dismissed it. Hope filled him as she left him with the perfect opening. He just hoped she’d accept. “You don’t have to do that. I’m more than happy to give you a ride back home.”

  Eyebrows shooting up, she gazed at him in silence for a moment. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, which surprised him. For the most part since they met, her eyes had been expressive, and it had been easy to tell.

  “I don’t want to put you out. Especially on a Friday. And I’m not too keen on leaving my truck parked in front of the grocery store all weekend.”

  “It’s no trouble,” he replied with a shrug. “I don’t have any plans, anyway. And if you’re comfortable driving it a short distance, you can leave it in the back-parking lot of Aaron’s. It’ll be out of the way, and it’ll be safe there. No one will mess with it.”

  She continued gazing at him for a moment, and he was sure she was going to be stubborn and refuse—but to his surprise, she nodded slowly. “If you’re sure it won’t be any trouble.”

  “Not at all. The shop’s on the corner, so just turn right and the entrance to the parking lot is just behind the building. My truck is back there too, so I’ll meet you there.”

  Hesitating a moment more as she searched his eyes—for what, he wasn’t sure—she finally nodded and turned to climb inside her truck. As much as he wanted to watch her longer—he always wanted to look at her, it seemed—he turned and started striding back to the shop. He wanted to, if not make it there before her, at least meet her there.

  He was halfway there when he heard her truck start up and back out of the spot. As she started slowly making her way down the road, he winced. He could clearly hear the engine missing out and how rough it was running.

  Relief that she agreed to his plan washed over him. Logically, he knew she would have been okay if she drove it home, but he would have worried. And since he doubted she’d call him to let him know she made it safely, the worry would have stretched out until he heard from her again.

  They hadn’t known each other long. Calling to let him know she’d made it okay probably wouldn’t even occur to her, and he wasn’t sure it would go over well if he asked her to.

  She made it there just before he did, and she was sliding out as he approached. Slinging her purse over her head, she walked to the other side and pulled out two of the water gallons. Giving him a small smile, she started to walk to his truck.

  Okay. Clearly, she wasn’t wasting any time.

  “Not that one. That’s my work truck. My personal truck is the blue Chevy next to it. The doors are unlocked, so you can put them in the back.”

  Her eyebrows rose slightly as she took in his Silverado, a newer model than hers. Deciding he’d risk her giving him another lecture on women being able to handle their own shit, he quickly grabbed the remaining two gallons and followed her to his truck.

  Eyes narrowing slightly when she saw him with the water, she opened her mouth and then shut it again with a shrug, not remarking on it as she walked back to lock up her truck.

  “Thanks,” she said softly once she returned. He nodded, opening the passenger door and gesturing for her to get in.

  He wanted to hold his hand out so he could help her up, just like he wanted to linger before he took her home. But he had a strong feeling she’d decline both, so he kept his hand to himself while he held his tongue.

  It was all harder than he’d thought it would be. He wanted to give her time to get used to him, to come around, before he pushed for more. Hell, he basically wanted to give her everything, which surprised him, because he hadn’t known he could feel like that for someone.

  That part was easy. He wanted nothing more than to give her what she wanted, what she needed. What surprised him was that as much as he wanted that, he was still chafing with impatience.

  He wanted them to truly get to know each other. He wanted to move beyond acquaintances to friends, or maybe, hopefully, more.

  Find your patience, Cody, he lectured himself. Do not pressure her or scare her off, man.

  He could do those things. But that also didn’t mean he couldn’t take his time driving her home, either. Every little bit counted.

  Olivia glanced at her truck one more time as they pulled out, and he watched from the corner of
his eye as she faced forward, a resigned look on her face.

  “You seem pretty attached to that truck,” he said conversationally. The look she gave him said she wasn’t sure how he meant that, so he pushed on. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m partial to my truck, too.”

  Biting her lip, she gazed at him for a moment before looking out the windshield. “Yeah, I am. It was my dad’s truck, and one of the only things I have left of him. I know it wouldn’t have done it any permanent damage if I drove it home, and I would have if I had to. But when you offered to drive me, I couldn’t refuse. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to it.”

  Dual emotions surged through him—warmth that she was opening up, even just a small bit, and telling him something personal; and a sharp ache that made him want to rub his chest. Because it sounded like she’d lost her father, and he hated that she’d had to experience that.

  “He passed away?” he asked gently, to clarify.

  She nodded, her eyes still watching the town slowly pass by. “Yeah, about four years ago. Maybe I’m being overprotective of it, but besides a photo album, that truck is the only thing I brought with me when I left my old life behind.”

  So many questions crowded his mind about why she left her old life and why she brought so little with her, but he held them back. “Trust me, I understand. I have my dad’s truck, too. He died when I was seventeen. At least you drive your dad’s. I crank the engine on Dad’s often, do regular maintenance, all that. But every time I try to drive it, I can’t get passed the driveway. I’m not sure why. He wouldn’t have wanted it to sit with no one getting any use out of it. But even knowing that, I can’t bring myself to drive it around.”

  She glanced at him with compassion and understanding in her moss green gaze, but even though he was aware of it—he was always aware of everything about her—he couldn’t focus on it.

  That was the first time he’d really opened up about his dad to anyone. And he wasn’t sure what surprised him more—the fact that he’d opened up to someone who was a virtual stranger to him, no matter how he felt about her, no matter that he could have sworn his soul had known hers for years; or that it’d been thirteen years since his dad passed, and he still didn’t talk much about him or what happened.

  Not even with his sister. Lindsey had been so young when their dad died. She didn’t have the same memories, didn’t know as well as he did what it had been like to have him in her life.

  Maybe he should try to change that, though. Not having him as long as Cody had didn’t mean she didn’t still miss him, or his presence in her life.

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia said softly, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I know what losing a parent does to you. Maybe you can’t drive it because like my truck is a link to my dad, that truck is a link to yours. I couldn’t drive my dad’s at first, either. But I found once I made myself, I felt closer to him. There are a lot of memories wrapped up in that truck.”

  Hoping he wasn’t pushing her too much, but wanting her to keep talking, he quickly glanced over at her. “Yeah? Like what?”

  Her smile was soft as she looked over at him. “He taught me how to drive in that truck. My sister, too. And everything I know about fixing cars came from him teaching me on it. He tried to teach Fiona as well, but she was never interested. I ate it up, though. I loved the challenge of fixing it when it was broken, and I loved spending time with him while I was doing it.”

  “Daddy’s girl?” he asked quietly, keeping his voice soft and friendly, not wanting her to take offense.

  “Absolutely. I followed him everywhere from the moment I could walk. I wanted to do everything he did, and he was everything I hoped to become one day. Strong, intelligent, kind, selfless.”

  “We haven’t known each other long, but from what I’ve seen of you, I’d say you’re well on your way to reaching your goal.”

  Her smile faltered as a small furrow appeared between her brows. “I’m better at some of those than others, but I’m trying.” Pausing for a moment, she went quiet, and then she seemed to shake off her introspection. “What about you? Were you close with your dad?”

  His chest seized in a vice grip as he thought about her question. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about his father in so long, and it was painful to try. Inhaling deeply, he fought to control his emotions long enough to answer.

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia said quickly. “I don’t want to pry into something painful, and it’s not really any of my business. You don’t have to answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  He shook his head, fighting to find his voice. If he wanted her to open up to him—and he did, more than he imagined possible—then he had to open up to her, too. Even if the thirteen-year-old wound was still raw and bleeding.

  Even if that same pain actually began two years before his father ever died.

  Clearing his throat, he shook his head again. “No, it’s fine. I don’t talk about him as much as I should. Yeah, we were close. Very close. He was my hero and mentor, and he tried to teach me how to be a good leader—the kind of leader he was. He was basically my best friend.”

  Making another soft sound of compassion, she reached over and laid her fingers gently on his forearm. That same bolt of hair-raising intensity raced across his skin at her touch, and he swallowed hard as he tightened his hands on the steering wheel.

  He considered himself a tough and masculine man, and he couldn’t remember the last time something made him feel afraid. No boasting, just facts. But if just the touch of her fingers on his arm could knock him on his ass and make him feel like that, he was almost scared to know what more of her touch would do to him.

  He couldn’t wait to find out, though.

  “I know exactly what you meant. I felt the same way about my dad.” Falling silent for a moment, she rearranged herself on the seat until she was partially facing him. “What did you mean by teaching you to be a leader? Of what?”

  He froze, his mind racing. That was careless. So careless. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to learn about the monsters living in his part of the woods.

  Forcing himself to relax, he glanced over at her. “You know, like be a good boss. At Aaron’s. I probably worded that wrong.”

  It felt fucking wrong as hell to lie to her—although technically, his dad did teach him those things—and it felt even worse when she nodded, accepting his explanation without question.

  Hopefully one day soon, he’d be able to tell her the truth. He wanted her to know everything—but she had to be ready to hear it first.

  “Ah, I got it. I know Aaron’s is a family business, but did you start it? Or does it go back farther?”

  The corner of his mouth curled as he slanted a look at her. She was tucked into the corner, one leg up on the seat so she could look at him easier as they talked. One elegant hand was playing with her hair, her slender fingers running through the long strands over and over.

  The fact that she was relaxed with him meant everything. So much so, she didn’t realize he was driving at what basically amounted to a snail’s pace, trying to draw out his time with her.

  “Pops started it when he was in his twenties. You remember him. They grumpy asshole who nearly ran you off.”

  That startled a laugh out of her, and when he glanced over, her green eyes were sparkling as she stared at him. Fuck, what it did to him to see a smile on her face, to hear her laugh.

  Even more, to know he was the one who pulled that reaction from her. He felt like he’d conquered the tallest mountain in the world and been crowned king of it.

  And Lord have mercy, when did he start thinking in those kinds of terms? It wasn’t like him at all.

  When you met her, his mind whispered.

  “So you’ve worked there all your life, I’m guessing?”

  “Yeah. I always knew I’d take over the business, so I didn’t feel like I had to work somewhere else, or even go away to college. I took business classes online, but I learne
d most of what I know from my dad and grandfather.”

  “Lindsey mentioned she did the bookkeeping at Aaron’s.”

  Eyebrows shooting up, he looked at her with surprise. “You’ve talked to my sister?”

  “Yeah,” she replied with a soft laugh. “I stopped at the bookstore before I went to the grocery store, and she was there. I guess she recognized me. We talked for a few minutes, and then she said she had to get back to work.”

  His smile turned wry as he glanced at her. “Did she talk your ear off while her mouth went a hundred miles a minute?”

  A surprised laugh left her lips, and the melodic sound washed over him. It sounded foolish, even to him, and most would think he was crazy—but he swore it tethered his soul a little tighter to hers.

  Was she magic? Did she posses some kind of witchcraft? He honestly couldn’t think of another explanation for why he was so invested in her, so attached, this soon.

  “Pretty much,” she replied with another laugh. “I learned pretty fast that I had to focus and pay attention, or I’d be completely lost. She seems very nice, though.”

  “She’s one of the nicest people I know, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my sister. She has a kind and generous soul. Unlike me, she went off to the big city for college, and I worried it would change her.” Pausing, his brow furrowed as he thought about his words. “Not change her as in make her unkind, but I was worried others would be unkind to her. That she might come back jaded and cynical. That didn’t happen, though. She came back just the same. Older, more mature, sure, but otherwise, the same Lindsey she was when she left.”

  “That’s really good. The experiences we have can change us. Sometimes it’s for the better, but all too often, it’s for the worse. And sometimes you lose yourself, and you have to claw your way back to who you were. It comes in bits and pieces, and they’re hard fought and hard won. And then you know you might never be exactly who you used to be. You just have to cling to the broken pieces you found, and accept that they’re all you get. You become someone else. Someone new. And sometimes, that’s okay, too.” Pausing, she shook her head with a smile. “Sorry, I got a little deep there. I’m just saying, it’s a good thing she never had to go through that.”