He reassembled the first-aid kit, clocked in, and ducked into the bathroom for a two-minute change into his coveralls. He was at his current project, tools in hand, within five minutes. Cade and Sawyer had taken a chance on him, and he never wanted to take advantage of their trust.
The design he was trying to translate from paper to reality wasn’t working. The sketch Cade had handed him had been rudimentary. Something he’d jotted down in a flash of inspiration in the middle of the night.
But he hadn’t taken small things like the width of the locking washers into account. Jeremy sat back on the stool and turned the wrench in his palm, staring at the puzzle. He might not possess the natural brilliance of Cade or a mechanical engineering degree like Sawyer, but the brothers had told him often enough that his instincts were excellent that he’d finally accepted he was a good mechanic. Maybe a great one.
This morning, though, he felt as sharp as a bag of balls, and his concentration was in negative territory. He stared at the closed door of Cade’s office. Although, “office” was a generous term. While Cade hadn’t skimped on working floor space, he had underestimated his storage needs, and his office had turned into a dumping ground of parts.
Finally, after the longest half hour of Jeremy’s life, the door opened, and he shot to his feet. Kayla and Cade shook hands. Cade was smiling which boded well. The man wasn’t exactly known for his good humor and charm. That was Sawyer’s thing.
God, she was cute. No, puppies were cute. Kayla Redmond was scorching. The sexiest, prettiest thing he’d ever seen. The first time he’d laid eyes on her, he’d thought the same even though she’d been with her dickhead of a boyfriend—ex, for some time now—and she hadn’t dated anyone since as far as he’d heard.
She’d matured since then, the wildness muted but not stamped out entirely. He was glad. She’d been through a rough time, and he admired her determination to not let past circumstances and decisions crush her spirit. He felt less successful in his endeavors.
The weight of his regrets was ballast he hadn’t been able to completely shed. He’d merely dragged it from town to town. It had been years since he’d felt carefree, but being around Kayla made him feel . . . lighter. Alive. Expectant. As if she was a spark ready to set off an explosion in his tidy boring life. As intriguing as he found her, she also terrified him.
And attracted him like no other girl ever had.
She and Cade finished their small talk, and she walked away. Her gaze touched Jeremy for only an instant, and he couldn’t be sure, but she may have graced him with another of her warm smiles. Her hips swung, her legs killer in her skirt and heels. He had a feeling she was fully aware he watched her retreat.
He joined Cade in the doorway of his office. They were silent until Kayla disappeared.
“Well?” Jeremy asked.
“Hired her. She starts part-time on Monday until the holiday break while she finishes up school, then full-time at the new year.”
Satisfaction battled with worry in Jeremy’s chest. Change stalked close just as he was growing comfortable. “You’re not interviewing anyone else?”
Cade shot him a telling look. “Monroe wants Kayla working here.”
Jeremy couldn’t help but poke Cade a little. “And what Monroe wants . . . ? Dang, Sawyer’s right, you are whipped.”
“Like he’s one to talk. Anyway, at least I’m getting action unlike some people around here.” Cade waggled his brows.
Jeremy laughed softly. The dynamic between him and the Fournettes had taken some getting used to. He wasn’t family, yet they had his back like he was a little brother. Not only Cade and Sawyer, but Monroe and Regan too.
“So have we got a new employee?” Sawyer walked up, wiping his hands on a blue shop towel.
“Yep. I like her. She’s young, but she knows her stuff.” Cade’s small smile morphed into a grimace. “Only one problem.”
“What’s that?” Sawyer asked.
“She’s good-looking. Which means Daryl and the rest of the young, single guys are going to turn into even bigger idiots than normal trying to impress her. Someone’s likely to lose a finger.” Cade hummed, turned toward Jeremy, and looked him up and down. Jeremy stood up a little straighter. Cade continued in an assessing tone. “You’re not an idiot, are you, Jeremy?”
“I’m gonna assume that’s a rhetorical question,” Jeremy said dryly.
“You’re in charge of her orientation.” Cade clapped once and rubbed his hands together.
“Hold up. I can’t be in charge of her.” Jeremy stopped Cade with a finger poked into his chest when he would have walked off. “I don’t know anything about what she’s supposed to be doing.”
“She already knows the programs. You don’t have to train her. Show her around. Make sure she feels comfortable. Keep the other boys from pestering her. That sort of thing.”
“I’ve got real, actual work to do.” Jeremy’s weak protest did a poor job masking his shot of excitement.
“And now you have Kayla to do.”
Sawyer’s deep-chested laughter reverberated through the open space, and Cade muttered a curse before adding, “You know what I mean. Keep her safe and happy.”
The brothers strolled off, their heads close. Jeremy stood there. Keep her safe and happy? If his past was any predictor, that would be impossible.
Two
Kayla parked at Fournette Designs, almost as nervous as she’d been for the interview. Her first day on the job. She would work from eight to twelve and then head over the river to Cottonbloom College for her afternoon classes.
She glanced around the lot. Jeremy’s motorcycle was tucked between two behemoth trucks, the sun flashing on the chrome. Even though Cade had assured her she could dress casual—jeans, even—she decided to wear another skirt, at least for her first day. If she wanted to make a good impression and earn their respect, she had to look professional.
She picked her way across the gravel and this time made it to the door unscathed. Her heels tapped on the concrete floor. A half-dozen men who were gathered around Sawyer in the middle of the work space turned to watch her. Jeremy included.
She whipped her head around and kept her eyes on Cade’s office. For the time being, her desk—in actuality a sturdy folding table—would abut his. A laptop already loaded with the programs she’d need had been sitting between them at her interview. It was silver and sleek and looked way more expensive than the battered used laptop she used for her classes.
“Hey.”
She startled at Jeremy’s voice. The rest of the men were still gathered around Sawyer.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said.
“You didn’t. We have a morning meeting to make sure everyone knows their assignments for the day and to address any problems that they need Sawyer or Cade or me to handle.”
“I didn’t realize you were in charge too.” Although now she thought about it, he did carry himself as if he knew what he was doing. Confident. That’s what he was. A trait she struggled to locate in herself.
His laugh was rough sounding, but warm and pleasant, and made her smile in return. “I wouldn’t go that far. But, besides Cade and Sawyer, I’m the most experienced. Let me show you around.”
He took her into the break room and pointed out the coffee maker—whoever took the last cup had to make a new pot no matter the time of day—the first-aid kit which she was already acquainted with, and the full-sized fridge where she could store drinks or her lunch. Next was a bathroom that looked more like a gym locker room. Two stalls took up one corner and a shower with a flimsy curtain the other. Gray school-type lockers were against the near wall.
“Lock the door when you need to, and I would suggest knocking until everyone gets used to having you around, else you might get an eyeful.” Although his voice was jokey, she could well imagine the embarrassment of walking in on one of them. She might have to quit.
He gave her a tour of the work floor. The meeting had broken up and ever
yone was hard at work, but the occasional bark of laughter sounded over the clang of metal. He introduced her to everyone, and she shook hands if they weren’t occupied with equipment, otherwise exchanging smiles and accepting their welcome. By the time they’d looped back around to Cade’s office, she was feeling more relaxed.
“Thanks for the tour, although I’ve already forgotten half their names.”
“No worries. Most of us have name patches on our coveralls or shirts.” He tapped at the embroidered patch that read “Jeremy” in cursive and lingered in the doorway. “You okay from here?”
She wanted to touch him in some way. Some way that wasn’t creepy or weird or over the line. She stuck her hand out. His brows twitched, and amusement shaded his expression even though he wasn’t smiling. Finally, after a few heart-stopping milliseconds, he took her hand in his.
“Thanks for making me feel at home. I was super nervous. This is the first grown-up job I’ve ever had,” she said.
“You’ll do great.” He dropped her hand and stepped away, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coveralls, his head down.
The counselor from the Girls at Risk program had told her years ago she needed to seek closure around the situation with Dylan before she could truly move on. Jeremy had played a small but significant role in her drama and maybe the muddy confusion he inspired was because she needed to settle things. “Jeremy?”
He stopped and turned his head, one dark blond brow raised.
She ran her hands down her skirt. “A couple of years ago—I don’t know if you remember—but you helped me and Monroe out of a tight spot, and I never got the chance to thank you.” Truth was she’d had the chance, she just hadn’t had the gumption. But she wanted to do better and be stronger than who she was back then. “So… thank you.”
He faced her once more, his face unreadable.
Her tongue unspooled in the silence. “I was a really dumb kid and dated a jerk. I let him treat me like crap for too long and—” Oh God, tears clogged her throat and stung the back of her eyes making it difficult to continue. She blinked. Crying your first day of work was totally immature and unprofessional.
“Let him?” He sighed and touched her elbow, an immeasurable sadness around his eyes. “He treated you like crap because he was a piece of crap and took advantage of the fact you were young and naive. Anyway, you don’t need to explain anything. I was happy to help how I could that night. As bad as the situation was all the way around, it led me here, and this job saved my life.”
His whispered confession arrowed into her chest and her self-pitying tears dried up. “How do you mean?”
“I understand doing stuff you regret and for the wrong reasons. Before I came here…” He shook his head and looked to the floor.
She understood the tarry, clinging nature of shame. It oozed up at inconvenient times and when you least expected it. Their combined shames were almost tangible.
“You’re from Alabama, right?”
“Yeah, Falcon, Alabama. A little football-obsessed town. I never fit in, and my mom—” A whistle whipped his head around. With two fingers, Sawyer gestured him over to an engine being hoisted onto a stand. “Gotta go.”
“Sure,” she whispered to his back, watching while he joined the others. His mother again. What about her?
Focus. She needed to focus on the job she was being paid to do. Settling herself at the desk, she wiped her hands down her skirt, opened the laptop, and found her footing in no time. As Cade had warned, the files were woefully far behind. The morning passed quickly, and she contained her glances toward the shop floor to under a thousand.
Several of the men had broken for lunch, but Jeremy was still hard at work in the corner by himself. The loner, bad-boy vibes he gave off weren’t an act cultivated to attract women, which only heightened the attraction. Even though she needed to leave if she was to make it to class on time, she lingered.
She wanted to talk to him more about where he came from and how he ended up in Cottonbloom. Or they could talk about the weather or their favorite Christmas movies. She didn’t care. She just wanted to be around him a little bit longer.
Her growing infatuation with him tread too close to her adolescent feelings toward her ex. She had vowed to never allow that kind of toxin in her life again. So far it had been easy to steer clear of men. But Jeremy was different.
Their eyes met on her backward glance out the door. She resolutely faced forward. No way was she going to fall under a man’s control again. Different wasn’t always good.
The week played out in fits and starts for Jeremy. Agonizing awareness of Kayla’s presence marked his mornings while his mood took a depressed dive off a cliff in the afternoons. They hadn’t exchanged more than pleasantries after the surprising intimacy of their conversation in the doorway of Cade’s office her first day. Now it was Friday, and he wasn’t sure if a weekend spent away from her would help or hurt.
He hadn’t wasted brain power on examining the state of his personal life for years. Loneliness was his constant. In Alabama, he’d been marked as a troublemaker from early on. If he were being honest, his reputation hadn’t been undeserved. He’d caused a passel of trouble over the years. Starting in fifth grade when he’d stolen a smaller, nerdy kid’s lunch.
The taste of the homemade pimento cheese sandwich was still stuck in his memories. He hadn’t done it to be a bully, even though that’s what he was labelled by teachers and the principal from that day forward. He’d done it because his mom had been sitting almost comatose in their trailer for a week, strung out on meth. She stopped cooking and eating and cleaning and taking care of him during her drug binges.
He’d learned to take care of himself and his mom after a fashion. Not a very good fashion and sometimes an illegal one. Or at least morally ambiguous. It’s not like the government or God gave a crap about him and his mother. In fact, no one wanted to acknowledge the existence of a drug problem among the rural poor. Which made it that much worse when you were living the nightmare.
The final straw had been the pact he’d made with the devil. His absentee father’s sister had offered legal help to his incarcerated mother if he cast the new head football coach in an unfavorable light. Like most things, he’d failed miserably on all counts, but had secretly been relieved. If he’d succeeded, his already difficult path to redemption would have crumbled into nothing.
The lowest moment of his life had brought him his greatest friend—Logan Wilde. It had taken a long time to accept that Logan had no ulterior motive. Logan got him a job at Henry’s Antique Store and paid the security deposit on a decent apartment. Checked up on him. Made sure he got his GED and stayed out of trouble. In return, Jeremy had given him as much help as someone like him could offer.
Finally though, the constraints of his history with Falcon, Alabama, were like an ever-tightening noose. He’d packed up his motorcycle and headed to his cousin’s place in Cottonbloom only to land himself in trouble almost from day one. For trying to protect Kayla and Monroe, he’d gotten beat up and Kayla’s ex had gotten him fired from his job working the crayfish harvest.
In a second weird turn of fate, that unfortunate incident had led him to the Fournettes—the second best thing to happen to him. Sometimes—okay, most of the time—he felt undeserving of the random kindnesses that had found him in spite of himself.
Heading into the changing room, he replaced his coveralls with his leather jacket on the hook in his locker and stored his helmet on top. They were calling for rare winter thunderstorms that afternoon. He really needed to spring for a truck. Winters in Cottonbloom were bearable on the bike most of the time, but riding in a deluge sucked.
With his coveralls halfway on, the door opened. Men came and went all morning. Except even before he saw the pointy toe of a high heel, he sensed it wasn’t one of the men. He froze. So did she. The door drifted shut with a whine.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice lilted as if she were unsure of the sentiment.
“It’s okay.”
She didn’t leave and made no effort to keep her gaze on his. Heat coursed through him, making him very glad his bottom half was well covered.
“I should have knocked,” she whispered.
“I should have locked it.” He shoved an arm into one sleeve and then the other. Her gaze followed the zipper’s progress to the top. Finally, her eyes raised to meet his. She looked shocked to find herself in the changing room with him as if she’d teleported in.
“It’s all yours.” He stepped closer, and when she didn’t move, he slipped by her, their bodies brushing. Closing his eyes, he took a breath, her scent overtaking his senses. She smelled faintly of the peppermint candy canes she’d left in a bowl in the break room. Clean and seductive.
He forced himself to keep moving even though he had the urge to press her up against the door and discover all her soft, seductive scents.
He opened the door, the clang of work breaking the spell. In a scratchy voice, he said, “Lock the door.”
He waited until he heard the deadbolt turn before walking away. His mind tumbled, thoughts flying in the chaos. He had accepted the fact that he was attracted to her, but what became as clear as a blinking neon sign was that she was attracted to him. To him. He wasn’t sure what to do with the information. It would probably be best to ignore it.
His morning’s work was average at best. Fridays meant a half day for most of Fournette Designs. Cade and Sawyer were often around in the afternoon, and Jeremy tended to stay too. Not like he had anything else to do. But after mashing his finger a second time, he was one of the first men into the changing room. He scrubbed the grease and sweat off in the shower, pulled on street clothes, and grabbed his jacket and helmet. Not only would his dinged-up knuckles appreciate the break but he hoped to make it home before the rains came.
Thunder cracked as he headed to the door, and the sound of the rain pinging on the metal of the building crescendoed like an ocean wave. He pulled at the door as Kayla pushed. It flew open with their combined efforts and Kayla’s momentum had her falling forward.
Christmas in the Cop Car (Sweet Home Alabama Book 4) Page 2