Roadside Assistance

by Marie Harte

  A glance at Sam’s shy smile when Eileen scolded him to eat made him love her all the more. Especially because Foley knew if he couldn’t get Sam to do right, he could always count on his mom to step in and kick Sam in the tail.

  “Sam, you eat these damn pancakes or I’ll shove ’em down your throat. You hear me, boy?”

  Though Sam could break her in half without trying, he nodded dutifully and started shoveling down the food, though not with the gusto he normally reserved for filling his big body.

  Fucking Louise Hamilton. Even after all the years apart, Sam’s mother continued to drag Sam back into misery. Foley had mentioned Louise in the car, since he’d overheard Sam talking to her, but Sam refused to talk about her, a glare his only response.

  Ever since Sam had been just a sickly, skinny little prick mouthing off to anyone and everyone back in the sixth grade, Foley and his mom had been caring for him in one way or another. Sure, they’d all gone through rough patches. Some juvie crap, that awful mess in prison they both hated to dwell on. And Sam’s continued refusal to get help for the messes his mother created. But through it all, they’d become a family. With Sam, Foley and his mom could both work on the guy, and he needed the affection so damn badly that all of them came out for the better when he let them help.

  “When do Liam and Del come back?” Eileen asked.

  Sam started answering with his mouth full, until she gave him “the look,” and he shut it.

  Foley smirked at him, accepting the hidden finger Sam shot him as his due. “After Christmas. They’re doing it up this year because Del’s engaged to that smothering McCauley clan.”

  “Now, Foley, that’s not nice.” Eileen glared at him. She loved Liam Webster for taking Foley in. Like he’d been some wayward waif. Far from it. He and Sam had been doing just fine on their own, taking classes while working at various garages. But he’d admit he’d found a home at Webster’s.

  Still, nothing he could say would change her mind about Liam and his “heart of gold.” Of course, she’d never heard the old man go off on him or swear like a sailor.

  For a while, Foley had wondered if maybe his mom and Liam might make a go of it. But Liam’s propensity for dating topless dancers, and his struggle to get over his dead wife—who’d passed thirty friggin’ years ago—had cautioned Foley to keep his mom away.

  “Yeah, well, Mike McCauley is okay, I guess,” he admitted. “He makes Del happy. But I think she just hooked up with him to get to his kid.” Colin was a seven-year-old ball of energy always good for a laugh and feel-good moment. To Foley’s surprise, he liked showing the kid power tools and the treasures to be found under the hood of a muscle car. He’d never thought too hard about having kids, but around Colin and all the freaking happiness in the garage lately, he’d wondered…

  “Colin’s a good kid,” Sam agreed, his mouth now free of food.

  “Exactly. Because his father is raising him right.” She pointedly looked at Foley and Sam as she settled pancakes on Foley’s plate. She added a bunch of sausage to the table too.

  God. Foley loved his mom. He started wolfing down his breakfast.

  She continued, “Everyone makes mistakes, but it’s how you deal with the aftermath that makes you a man.”

  They groaned, and Sam begged, “Not today, Eileen.”

  “Sam Hamilton, you eat my pancakes, you take my advice.”

  “Well, I’m not all that hungry, so I—”

  “Eat!” She shoved another stack on his plate.

  “Better do what she says,” Foley advised, trying not to laugh. “You know she gets mean when she thinks we aren’t listening.”

  “She’s mean all the time,” Sam grumbled and forked another mouthful of carbs.

  She rubbed Sam’s head, as only his mother could do and get away with unscathed, and returned to the stove. After fiddling a bit, she returned to the table and sat with them to eat.

  “So, boys. Anyone you’re dating lately?”

  They shrugged, as usual, making her work to get answers. Foley had been grudgingly sharing with his mom forever, but it had taken Sam a lot longer to trust she’d accept him no matter his faults. Eileen never judged. She listened, offered unasked-for advice, then smiled and waved them on their way.

  And maybe that was part of his problem with women. Foley tuned out as Sam talked about a passing romance with a woman heading out of town. Maybe if Eileen Sanders hadn’t been such a terrific role model of what a woman should be, Foley wouldn’t have stuck to casual dating for so long. His mom didn’t put herself above others and had a generous heart. Even better, she’d never taken shit from him or Sam. She wasn’t afraid to say it like she saw it.

  The realization stunned him, but it made sense. How could Foley settle for anything less when it came to finding a woman he’d want to keep around?

  An image of sexy Cyn Nichols came to mind. A fiery redhead who’d looked interested even as she’d told him to screw off—in nicer words than he’d thought she might use. Hell. He liked her. Obviously she was hot. He wanted to do her in the worst way. She had a rounded, voluptuous quality that put him in mind of Marilyn Monroe—one of his mom’s favorite actresses he’d been forced to watch when younger. But that pinup build was definitely his type.

  Even better, she worked close by with people he liked. Matt and Nina Nichols had always been personable when he’d visited their shop. Not treating him like he’d steal half their inventory, just because he looked like a prison escapee—as Del liked to describe him.

  He grinned. Del could be mean. Probably why they got on so well. She didn’t take his shit. Just like Cyn hadn’t taken his crap either.

  He didn’t go for cruelty in a woman, but he liked sass. And he fucking loved red hair.

  Shit. He was getting a hard-on at the breakfast table—near his mother. He focused on wiping his plate clean, on Lou’s last paint job, on his last disaster of a hookup…and finally lost his erection. Just as he rose and poured them all more coffee, Eileen dropped a bombshell.

  “There’s a man I’d like you to meet. He and I have been dating for a few months, and I—”

  He dropped into his seat like a stone. “What? How have you been dating and I didn’t know?”

  “Yeah,” Sam growled. “We need to look this guy over, make sure he’s—”

  “This is why I didn’t say anything.” Eileen shook her head. “I wanted to get to know Jacob before you two scared him away. I like him.”

  Foley and Sam exchanged a look.

  Foley’s mother had turned fifty-three a month ago and looked like a knockout. She kept in terrific shape, a fan of yoga and strength training, so he could see guys wanting to shack up with her. Long dark hair, gray eyes, a thin, oval face. Then there was her even prettier personality. So yeah, he and Sam kept an eye on her. For all that Eileen could act like a mother bear around her kids, she had an inability to weed out the morons from the good guys.

  Over the years she’d dated a few losers, but she’d always put him and Sam first. He knew for a fact that her typical MO was to settle for some action on the side, though he tried to ignore the fact that his mother had needs.

  But she’d never dated anyone she’d kept a secret before.

  That I know of. “Okay, who is this guy? Tell us all about him.”

  “No.”

  Sam blinked. “What do you mean, no? Why won’t you tell us about your new boyfriend? Does he scare you? Did he threaten you?” Sam looked murderous.

  Talk about making a leap. “Easy, man. Jesus, I doubt she’d be with someone who threatened her.” At least, Foley hoped not.

  “Simmer down, you two.” Eileen sipped her coffee. “Jacob is a very nice man. He’s a dentist, as a matter of fact. I helped his daughter and son-in-law with a rental a few months ago. We clicked and started dating.”

  Eileen worked as a building manage
r for several rental properties on the south side. She’d continued to grow her business through sound decisions and sheer grit. And now she even owned a few buildings she managed. She was the best landlord Foley had ever had.

  “Wait. A few months?” Foley didn’t like his mom having secrets. Granted, he didn’t figure she told him everything about her life, but a guy she’d been seeing for this long meant business.

  “Seriously, Eileen. What’s up with that?” Sam sounded gruff.

  Hurt.

  Before Foley could reassure him, Eileen stepped in. “Oh, relax. I fully intended to introduce him if we got more involved. At first it was a few dates. He’s handsome, and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t out just to get a piece of ass.”

  Foley wiped a hand down his face. “Mom.”

  “Oh. Uh, good.” Sam flushed.

  “But I soon realized Jacob is the real deal. He divorced his wife over ten years ago and has been happily single since. He makes his own money, a very nice living, as a matter of fact. He has a daughter and son-in-law and a grandson on the way.” She gave Foley and Sam a piercing look. “He’s obviously much more successful than I am.”

  Foley frowned. “You make a decent living, and you’re just as smart as some stupid dentist.”

  She glared. “I meant he found a way to raise his daughter to be a fine woman who married well and is giving him grandchildren.” Then she gave her trademark pained sigh. “Where did I go wrong?”

  He and Sam shared a commiserating groan. They’d been hearing the grandkid speech for years.

  “You saved me from a life of crime,” Sam offered—the Hail Mary of defenses. “I’d definitely still be in jail if it wasn’t for you and Foley. I don’t think you went wrong at all.”

  “Oh, sweetie. You’re my boy.” Eileen leaned close to kiss Sam on the cheek. “Of course I didn’t go wrong with you.”

  And he calls me a kiss ass.

  Then Eileen turned that militant gleam on him.

  Foley hurried to keep her off grandbabies. “Exactly. You owe me, Hamilton. So stop whining about cleaning the bathroom at home and settle your debts.”

  His mother tried to hide a smile, but Foley saw it. Sam did too, because he had to work to mask his own. As usual, bringing up his sorry excuse for a past turned Eileen’s attention from her favorite complaint about grandkids to pity for Sam.

  “Fine. I’ll clean it this week. But my room is off limits.”

  Foley cringed. “I’m thinking of calling Hoarders and getting you on the show.”

  “Up yours.” Sam shot him an obscene gesture.

  “Sam,” Eileen warned.

  “But he started it.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Foley swore.

  His mother scowled.

  “It’s okay, Eileen.” Sam sighed. “It’s not his fault.” The sparkle in Sam’s eyes warned Foley to be wary. “He’s been having a tough time dealing since this hot chick blew him off yesterday in front of everyone.”

  “Oh?”

  Foley mentally consigned Sam to the depths of dating hell.

  “Totally blew you off,” Sam said to him with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll take my turn and—”

  Foley gritted his teeth, knowing he was being played but unable to stop himself. “Try it and lose some teeth.”

  “Well, well. I’m not the only one with secrets.” Eileen leaned forward and sipped her coffee. “Tell me more, Sam.”

  “Well, she—”

  “Nothing to tell.” Foley jerked to his feet, grabbed his and Sam’s plates, and dumped them in the sink. “Some chick got PO’d because Dale parked our cars in her lot by accident. I fixed it. End of story.” Sam, the bastard, refused to follow Foley’s lead.

  He kicked back in his chair and raised a brow. “End of story?” He turned to Eileen. “She’s just Foley’s type. A gorgeous, stacked redhead. Seemed pretty smart and sure the hell rocked a dress and heels.”

  “Is that right?” Eileen practically purred.

  “I’ll be in the car.” Foley leaned down to kiss his mother’s cheek. “Love ya, Mom, but I have shit to do today. And before Sam goes filling your head with nonsense, the woman is fine, yeah. But I think she’s married.” A total lie, but he didn’t want his mother on his case.

  Eileen let out a sigh. “Oh. Well, but maybe—”

  Foley left before his mother could say any more.

  When Sam joined him five minutes later, Foley had built up a head of steam.

  “Hey, easy.” Sam held up his hands in surrender. “I was playing her.”

  “What?”

  “I got her so hooked on your lack of a love life she slipped up and gave me her boyfriend’s number.”

  “She did?” His mother was usually slicker than that.

  “Actually, I distracted her then looked him up on her phone.”

  Foley grunted.

  “Dr. Jacob Wynn. I’m thinking I need my teeth cleaned.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Foley nodded. “But you still owe me for telling her about Cyn. What the fuck, man?”

  “Lay off about Louise, I lay off about Cyn.”

  Foley sighed. Sam’s mother had always been a touchy subject. “Agreed.”

  “Good. Now let’s stop somewhere to eat first. Aggravating you made me hungry again.”

  The perfect excuse to swing by a certain coffee shop. “You up for some coffee and pastries?”

  Sam immediately clued in. “As a matter of fact, I am. Especially if they come with a hot redhead on the side. You called dibs, fine. But I get the impression she’s not interested.”

  “She is. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  Sam snorted.

  “Coffee first. Dentist after. But no scaring the redhead away.”

  “Dude, I don’t think you can scare a woman like that. Ten bucks says she shoots you down hard.”

  “I can’t take that bet. But give me ’til next week, and we’ll bet again. I just need to work my magic, and she’ll be putty in my hands.”

  “You do know roofies are illegal.”

  Foley told him where to go, and Sam shot back something even more obnoxious. A good way to start the weekend. Especially with Cyn on his mind.

  Chapter 3

  Cyn had dressed for the weather today. Boots, jeans, and a thick sweater would combat the cold this Saturday. Though it hadn’t snowed, the icy roads last night had made travel more than a little hazardous. Closing up early would ease her fears about getting stuck out in the dark with a flaky battery.

  The weather hadn’t scared the customers. Today Nichols had a decent crowd. People continued to shop and prepare for the holidays, and the peppermint cocoa sold like crazy. A little girl at the counter oohed and aahed over their Santa-shaped cookies and chattered about Christmas. If only Cyn could enjoy the holidays so well.

  Another Christmas spent at her parents’. Another joyous day watching her perfect brother and his perfect family live up to her mother’s expectations while Ella Nichols subtly complained—in excruciating detail—about everything Cyn was doing wrong with her life.

  If only “Silent Night” could be taken literally.

  Nell and Gino continued to serve behind the counter while Cyn brought out another tray of Kim’s orange cranberry muffins and toasted pumpkin scones. She would have indulged, but she’d made the mistake of stepping on the scale earlier. Two more pounds had jumped out of that bottle of wine she’d shared with Nina last night. Or it might have been the thuggish gang of Christmas cookies forcing her to take “just one bite.”

  “I hate Christmas,” she muttered to herself then grabbed a bottle of eco-friendly cleanser and a clean rag to wipe down tables.

  She’d just finished clearing the last of them when a familiar sense of anticipation and annoyance broke out over her. She wasn’t surprised to t
urn around and see Foley Sanders staring at her. She swallowed hard and forced a polite, “Hello.”

  His wide smile did nothing but stir her ovaries into happy leaps of joy. She glanced at his equally large and scary mechanic friend standing next to him. Talk about presence. The pair had a combination of sexy danger and charisma that attracted and repelled Cyn in the same breath. Tatted, muscular, and wary—as if they would attack anyone who came too near—the men seemed more lethal than anyone she’d ever met. At the same time, Sanders had a softness in his eyes that invited her to look closer and peel back the layers of the man.

  “Hi, Cyn.” He held a coffee and bag of goodies in one hand and motioned to his companion. “This is Sam. You met him yesterday at the shop.”

  “We didn’t actually meet,” Sam said in a low, gravelly voice. “She was bitching you out about the cars.”

  Not nice of him to bring that up, was it?

  Good Lord, but Sam might as well have had the word “menacing” tattooed on his forehead—in addition to the wealth of ink she’d seen over his forearms and biceps the other day.

  “That’s right,” she replied, all sweetness and cream. “I came in to correct a fucked-up situation.”

  Sanders sighed. Sam blinked then grunted at her and sat at the table she’d cleared.

  “Yeah, well, it’s all good now, right?” Sanders gave her a subtle once-over and sipped from his cup, joining his friend at the table.

  “It is.” She decided to be pleasant. Not his fault his friend had the manners of a goat. “Enjoy your coffee.”

  “Cocoa.” Sam lifted it in toast to her. “And it’s damn good. You might have attitude, but you’ve earned it. The drink and food is fuckin’ amazing.”

  She tried not to but couldn’t help it. She found Sam’s honesty charming. “Thanks. Appreciate the fuckin’ compliment.”