Throttle: A Dirty Mechanic Romance

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Throttle: A Dirty Mechanic Romance Page 17

by Kira Blakely


  “I guess not,” I said, crossing my arms. It was my turn to wear that stance.

  She got out of the car and ran down the beach, headed to our spot. Naturally, I followed her. I mean, shit, I was hard and emotions were running high. Maybe this would be the night.

  She was huddled in the shallow, carved-out spot in the dune. The winds changed its shape continually, but somehow, it had always been just deep enough for our two bodies. I plopped down next to her and ripped off the bow tie of my rented tux, tossing it toward the waves. “Okay, so tell me.”

  She didn’t say anything for a few minutes. We both needed to let our blood cool. I guess we sensed it was one of those “last time” kind of conversations.

  That was the first time I noticed what she was wearing. Harper never did things conventionally. Her dress was more of a two-piece thing, all filmy and her slender middle was bare. It looked like something out of I Dream of Jeannie. Her tits were spilling out of the top, and I knew an ocean’s worth of cold water couldn’t help me then. Her voice brought me back.

  “I can’t do it,” she was saying.

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  It was going to be one of those conversations. “Why not, Harper? Everyone does it.”

  “Not me.”

  “I noticed.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You and Miss Cow got it on already, I suppose?”

  I didn’t say a word. In later years, I tried to remember that silence was the worst thing you could not say to a woman. It condemned you to instant guilt.

  She rolled to her knees and confronted me. “You ass! You did, didn’t you?”

  I was a dead man. They would find my body the next morning, still in my tieless tux and assume I’d gotten drunk and drowned. Maybe I’d have a leg missing, like in the old, original Jaws. Harper would wear something odd, like a sombrero covered with flowers, and people would think she had gone mad with grief. She’d get away with it, though. She always did. “Well, god damn it! I’m no saint, Harper. I’m a senior, almost ready to start college! You sure as hell can’t expect me to take a vow of god-damned abstinence! It’s not healthy to store it all up!”

  “I thought guys, well, you know, had ways?”

  It took me a second to figure what she was talking about. “You mean to fuck another girl or to jack off?”

  She’d just stared at me. The words were out and then I could tell she was surprised. Maybe she gets it? Was she finally seeing it from my point of view? Shit! Was that even possible?

  “I can’t fall in love with you because you’re leaving,” she’d said, almost in a whisper, which might have been louder if it hadn’t been for the sound of the waves. “I won’t have a fighting chance. You’ll go to college and find someone, or a dozen someones, and I’ll be left here holding the broken heart.”

  “Oh, shit, Harper, is that what this has been all about? I’m not leaving you!”

  “Oh, really? What about Miss Cow?”

  She’d had me there. The condoms in my wallet were a dead giveaway. I’d hoped that when that shark took off my leg, he’d take the wallet, too. That would have been embarrassing.

  That was when she must have cold-cocked me, because when I came to, Harper was on her knees before me. Her top was missing and my face was filled with nipples and breasts. “Does Miss Cow offer these?” she’d asked, cupping her breasts and holding them out to me in offering. I hadn’t been unconscious. I think my mind just blocked what it couldn’t believe was happening.

  I’d pulled her toward me and fallen into those incredible gifts. I’d gotten little tastes before, but nothing like the full-out offering she was giving me then. I’d fed on her, sucking the nipples until they looked ready to burst, even in the moonlight. I’d ripped off my tux jacket, followed by the pin-tucked girly shirt I’d hated. I’d wanted to feel her skin against mine. Jesus, but she’d felt good.

  I’d spotted those gauzy pants while looking over her shoulder. It would have been so easy to rip them off and finally get what I’d wanted since the day I’d seen her, a fresh-faced pixie walking into the gym with the ninth-grade girls’ gym class. I knew what she would taste like. It was killing me and there was just one god-damned sheer curtain between me, and that.

  “Harper…” I’d begun, and she sprang to her feet, out of my reach, those beautiful tits high and proud.

  “I knew you’d go there, you ass. You’ve only got one thing on your mind,” she’d accused me. “You can’t stay true to me at college, and I’m not some whore toy you can play with until you go away!” She’d rotated in the sand before me and began her best stomping toward the car.

  I’d cussed, pulled myself together, and caught up to her. “Where’s your top?” I’d asked.

  “I threw it toward the water,” she shouted and I hesitated, deliberating whether it was better to hunt down her top or stay with her. I’d decided on the latter and put the tux jacket over her naked shoulders and chest, all the while dreading my dad’s anger since he’d have to pay for the whole tux. Women were just too much trouble.

  Harper hadn’t spoken to me as I took her home, wearing my jacket as she flounced into her house. She’d never spoken to me again… until now.

  All those memories had flitted through my head in what seemed like an hour, but had only been a few moments. I’d never gotten her out of my head. I’d always regretted that last night. She was like that song you couldn’t get out of your brain, playing over and over until you thought you would go mad. I never found anyone like her again. Never.

  Now, there she was, that impudent pixie face having filled out to that of a well-chiseled, beautiful woman. She was daring me, waiting for what I would say. I knew she wanted an apology. I couldn’t do that, not there in the lobby of the resort I’d fought off hell to own. Certainly, not in front of a woman who looked like a harpy and was apparently Harper’s boss. I shuddered at the thought.

  I answered her finally. “Yes, Harper, it has been a long time, a very long time. You look wonderful. What if we meet in the Cabana bar at ten and catch up?”

  I saw her head begin to turn, as if she was going to ask Bernadette for permission. She caught herself just in time and never even gave the black-haired woman a look. “I’d love to,” she said, and they moved away, blending in with the crowded lobby.

  Chapter 3

  Harper

  Bernadette had returned to chattering, but I was completely preoccupied with the shock of having run into Brayden again after all these years. I’d been sixteen the last time I spoke to him, or saw him, for that matter. I’m not sure he knew I was there on graduation day. The main ceremony was held in the football stadium, and I didn’t want him to know that I cared enough to be there. I’d dressed down for the occasion, wearing jeans and a jacket over my t-shirt. I’d even French-braided my hair and shoved it under a narrow-brimmed sunhat, the kind the tourists wore. I waited at the gate until there was a large family group going in and blended into the middle of them. I hadn’t applauded or shouted his name when he was called to the stage. It was not an easy thing for me to remain anonymous; it was not my natural habitat.

  I never asked anyone about him, not wanting to let on that I missed him in case it got back to him. I knew he wanted me to regret not staying with him but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. So, I stayed alone. Once I got to college up north, naturally no one knew him, or me. Anonymity had become second nature to me, and it was another reason I’d chosen computer science. I just didn’t seem to fit in with other people for some reason.

  There had been a few dates through college, but nothing that lasted long enough to write home about. Then came college graduation and the eventual job at Cleve-Mobil, and my relationship with the founder, Steve Tabbott.

  Steve had been a nerd the day his mother finally pushed him out. He was void of real emotion, and I think that was one of the reasons he appealed to me. He was a nothing, a void in the space where a body should have been. Making love
with him was like not making love at all. I never loved him, and I never wanted to. I’d only opened myself to real emotion that one time, with Brayden, and I remembered where I’d landed. I reasoned that if being alone with someone was just as painful as being alone without someone, why go through the pain? Just choose alone.

  Bernadette’s voice broke through my reverie.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” I asked her. “I’m a little nervous that the kids won’t like me, and I think I was getting a little panicky.”

  She bought it, although it wasn’t that far from the truth. “I was saying that the children are looking forward to meeting you. Dougie, especially. I told him you knew a lot about computers, and he’d like you to teach him how to hack the government.” Her voice was blasé, and I wondered if she had any idea what she was talking about. Probably not, I decided, unless she wanted to get rid of her kid for a few years.

  “I’m not a hacker,” I told her simply, hoping she’d get it without pushing me.

  “Oh, no? Well, that’s a shame. He was so looking forward to it. You mustn’t get too upset if he decides to throw a fit, promise? Remember, the doctor says he’ll outgrow it. Now, Katie, she’s probably not going to take that at face value. She’ll want to learn how, and until you give in, well, there’s no telling how much she’ll bug you about it. But just stand your ground, okay? You don’t have to give in, unless it’s easier. Your job isn’t counting on it.”

  I knew she was trying to give me some sense of relief but she was making it worse by the moment. We’d reached the wing where their individual rooms were located. We stopped at room 1006. “This is yours.” She tapped on the door and handed me a key card. “The kids are in our suite, room 1000. Here’s your key card for those rooms. I expect you to take good care of it. There are a lot of people who would love to get their hands on it.”

  I felt my temper flare at her condescension. She was inferring I was irresponsible and that didn’t set well with me. I couldn’t afford anger at that moment, so I took the cards and nodded, without comment.

  “Why don’t you go in and get unpacked? We’ll be taking dinner as room service today. Dinner is at seven. We’ll see you then.”

  Bernadette’s eyes looked upward as though making sure she’d gotten through her rehearsed speech. I’d always found this sort of insecurity in people who weren’t terribly bright, which gave me a foreshadow of what I would see when I met her kids. I hoped I could get through this job. There really weren’t a lot of options immediately on hand. It would take me a couple of weeks to find something else, but what I really wanted was to code my website. That meant finding a job that gave me the freedom to do just that. Otherwise, being a nanny would have been out of the question.

  I opened the door and drew in a breath. I felt as though I’d entered a different world. All the furnishings were clear Plexiglas or very, very pale shades of pastel. It was a room filled with feminine touches and I felt a little pride that Brayden was behind all that. There was a queen-sized bed with a soft floral spread, a small kitchenette, a desk that would be ideal for writing and a small sofa and chair group. A sliding door opened onto a balcony and I looked down to the beach and waves below. It was simply gorgeous.

  I quickly put away my sparse wardrobe, while keeping an eye on the clock. I didn’t want to be late and get off on the wrong foot. I knocked on their suite door five minutes early. I wasn’t comfortable simply walking in, yet.

  Bernadette opened it, and her face relaxed with relief. Clearly, I was needed. She motioned me in and a short man with an elaborate, comb-over hairstyle stood behind her. His eyes traveled the length of me and ended up back on my breasts. I already had him pegged. “This is Ripley,” Bernadette said.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said to me in a tone that bordered on salacious. “I hope to get to know you better.”

  I shivered with immediate disgust and was floored that Bernadette seemed to be oblivious to his conduct. Maybe she was used to it. Heck, for all I knew, maybe she endorsed it so he’d leave her alone. I couldn’t say I’d blame her. He was repulsive.

  “Bernadette, who is that?” asked a small voice just on the other side of the doorway.

  “Come here, Katie,” Bernadette urged the girl. “This is your new nanny, Harper.”

  They call their parents by their first names?

  “I don’t like her,” announced a boy I assumed was Dougie as he marched into the room.

  “Why is your name Harper?” Katie wanted to know.

  I motioned to Katie to come into the room where I could talk to her without the wall between us. “My mother loved Mockingbird.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Never mind, I’ll read it to you sometime.” Katie’s jaw was slack. “Scratch that, we’ll watch the movie,” I improvised and turned my attention to Dougie.

  “Hello, Dougie. How do you know you don’t like me if you haven’t met me?” I asked, putting him on the spot.

  “Your hair sucks, and your boobs are too big. You look like you’re gonna tip over,” he said boldly and waited for my response. I wouldn’t give him the opportunity to gloat over his brazen comment.

  “I see,” I said, carefully wording what I was about to say. “I’d say that’s a very wise attitude for a child of eight.” I heard Ripley snort over my shoulder but chose to ignore him. I didn’t address Dougie’s actual comment, thereby leaving him with something to think about.

  “Katie, come here and count to one hundred by fours,” Bernadette ordered, anxious to show off her star pupil of a child.

  “Four, eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four…” began Katie and I steeled myself for the dog and pony show that was obviously going to be my primary source of entertainment.

  I interrupted, “My goodness, Bernadette, you were right. She really is bright.”

  Katie nodded and grinned with satisfaction.

  Dinner was announced just then and the kids slammed one another in the chest with an arm and ran for the table.

  “Children…” Bernadette chided them in a bored tone and looked to me. “They’re your responsibility now.”

  I smiled and followed the brats into the dining area of the condo. An Asian-looking man nodded at me and muttered his name was Chin. He stood nearby in a white jacket, waiting for everyone to be seated. Then he clapped his hands and a collection of servants appeared through a swinging door, each carrying a platter or bowl of food, some of which smelled better than the rest. He oversaw the theatrics and then hung back against the wall as the family began their demands.

  Ripley was presiding, handing the bowls first to Bernadette, who gingerly took one spoon of each, and then on to Dougie. The boy’s reaction was less favorable. He climbed up onto his knees so he could peer into the bowls and platters across the table. “I’m not eating this!” he shrieked, and Bernadette rolled her eyes and looked at me to take charge. “It smells awful, and I’ll puke all over the table if you try and make me!” The boy’s overly long, fuzzy red hair bounced a little to emphasize his displeasure.

  I wasn’t prepared for this mess. I’d been raised with at least a few manners, especially when it came to food. “Okay,” I said calmly, taking the bowl from Bernadette to spoon some onto Katie’s plate and my own. No matter how bad it tasted, I had obligated myself to eat it now. Shit!

  Dougie watched, apparently a little thrown off by my calm and unobliging response. “I want ice cream!” he shrieked, still on his knees. Chin flinched, ready to do the kid’s bidding, but I looked him straight in the eyes and calmly shook my head.

  When Chin didn’t move, Dougie tried again. “I said,” he threatened, whirling around in his chair to look directly at Chin, “get me ice cream.”

  I had to give Chin credit. His face remained expressionless, and yet I could see the glitter of satisfaction in his eyes that for once, the little brat wasn’t getting his way. He did not move.

  Dougie began chanting and pounding his spoon on the table. “I want ice
cream, I want ice cream…”

  Bernadette’s hand slapped the table in aggravation, and she looked at me. “Give him what he wants. Remember what I told you?”

  I slowly folded my napkin and lay it next to my plate. “Bernadette, may I have a word?” I stood and walked toward the next room. She had no choice but to follow me. I knew she would; she was used to following orders.

  She was rolling her eyes as though I was dense. “Remember? I told you just to keep peace and give him what he wants.”

  “I do remember. I also disagree with the doctor. And, since the doctor isn’t here to witness this, and you put me in charge, I’m going to do this my way. He’ll eventually get hungry enough to stop the games, and then we’ll all be able to enjoy our meal.”

  Bernadette was taken aback by my boldness, and I could see calculations going on in her mind. She was weighing my value as an old friend of Brayden’s against a quiet meal of eating that barely edible garbage waiting in the next room. She decided Brayden was worth it, and I wondered why. Another clue, another reaction worth remembering.

  We returned to the dining room where Dougie had temporarily gone mute so he could hear the verdict. “Dougie, since you won’t be eating dinner this evening, there’s no need for you to be at the table,” I told him in a measured tone. “Please go to your room, and I’ll be there once I’ve finished.”

  His mouth dropped open, and he immediately looked to his mother for backup, but there was none coming. She quietly dabbed at her spoonful of everything while Ripley’s face glowed with pleasure. I had the feeling he’d wanted to do that for some time. What did all these people hold over one another’s heads? Katie was giggling, and Dougie’s face flushed even redder, if that was possible.

  “I’m not going,” he announced and crossed his arms over his chest.

  I folded my napkin again and laid it next to my plate, scooting back my chair. I looked to Chin and said, “Would you mind having my dinner kept for me, and I’ll eat it once Dougie is in bed?”

  He nodded and immediately bowed to me; a sign of respect.

 

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