by Anna Heskin
Taken by the Mechanic
Curvy Librarians Book 2
Anna Heskin
Copyright © 2019 by Anna Heskin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
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1
Jenna
Ugh. Freakin’ Monday.
I mentally thanked the library board for allowing employees to wear jeans to work as I frantically got dressed in my messy walk-in closet. Despite taking weeks to find a pair that flattered my curves, the relaxed dress code made our lives easier for creating outfits.
That June morning, my casual attire shaved about three and a half minutes from the pre-work routine compared to when I had to wear professional clothes. With those extra few minutes, I tried in vain to start my car but it decided to ruin my morning before it began.
The sedan had nine years and 150,000 miles on it. I’d kept it well maintained, and it had exhibited no signs of anything wrong before the engine refused to turn over that morning.
After giving the ignition one more shot, I stepped out of the car with my bag and headed down the sidewalk, texting my boss to let her know I’d arrive late. The bus stop sat three blocks away, at the nearest major road. I checked my purse to be sure I had enough change for the fare since I didn’t ride often enough to justify a monthly pass.
I could’ve called my mother and asked for a ride since she lived ten minutes away. Even though I had to stand in the aisle next to a smelly person on the packed bus, it was better than another lecture from my mother on how to live my life. To say she’s controlling would qualify as the understatement of the year.
The fetid man’s armpit festered three inches from my face, threatening to make contact every time the bus hit a bump. Whenever I thought about saving money and ditching the car, I needed to remind myself of the joy of traveling alone.
After a twenty-minute ride with compromised oxygen, I stepped off the bus and into work. Yep, that was still better than riding with Mom. Paranoid the fellow passenger’s smell rubbed off on me, I sniffed my clothes all the way down the hallway. Satisfied his smell didn’t latch on to me, I put my lunch in the fridge and then visited my manager to find out where I’d work that day.
“Hey Claire, sorry I’m late,” I said as I stood in her doorway.
“It’s fine. We all deal with car trouble from time to time.”
I nodded and wondered if Claire owned anything other than gray sweaters. Every day, she wore a neutral top and jeans over her tall, slender frame and topped it off with a gray sweater. It was never the same sweater because they’d have a different weave pattern, the number of buttons, or other distinguishing characteristics. She could dress however she wanted, I didn’t care… I only found it humorous to picture a closet full of gray sweaters.
“It sucks because I don’t know what I’m going to do about the car now. It could get expensive to tow it and who knows what’s wrong,” I said.
“Do you have a trusted mechanic?” Claire asked.
“No,” I said. “I’ll figure it out. Tonight, I’m more concerned about my mother.”
Claire made a stink face. “I’m sorry. I know you have your issues.”
“It’s her birthday,” I said. “I told her I’d cook dinner. She’s coming at 7:00. Would you mind if I left work an hour early since the bus takes forever to get me home and I need a jumpstart on the cooking?”
“Well, Jenna, I need you to be here for the after-school program today, since we haven’t found a replacement for Kelsey yet.”
Our dear friend Kelsey left to live her dream life with her billionaire. My dream life didn’t involve money, but rather, a better relationship with my mother.
“Okay. I can ask my mother to show up later,” I said.
“No, hold on,” Claire said. “The bookmobile isn’t getting used until later this week. You can take it to get home on time.”
My mouth hung open. “Seriously?”
Claire nodded. “Have you driven it before?”
“No,” I said. “But I can handle it.” Our bookmobile wasn’t a huge bus like some libraries had. It was more like a large van. We went to a smaller size when the board purchased an electric vehicle.
“Take it for a couple of days. But after that, I expect you to get your car fixed or find another way to get your full shift in here,” Claire said.
“Sure thing,” I said. “Thank you.”
The day dragged on as I looked forward to driving the book beast. My bestie Dawn and I worked on opposite ends of the floor, making the day seem even longer.
As we clocked out for the day, Dawn noticed the bookmobile keys dangling from my closed hand. “Have fun borrowing that,” she said.
“It’ll be an adventure,” I said.
Dawn winked. “Be careful. I’ve heard the regular driver and his girlfriend have sex in there all the time.”
I chuckled. “That’s just a rumor. I’ve never seen him with anybody.”
“She works at the laundromat,” Dawn said. “He picks her up and drops her off away from the library. She thinks if they conceive on the bookmobile, their kid will be smart.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“They took me out for drinks one night and asked me to be part of a threesome,” Dawn said.
My eyes widened. “I hope you said no.”
Dawn slapped my shoulder. “Of course I didn’t go along with it. But I’m just letting you know to not expect much from the worn-out shocks and use a good hand sanitizer when you get home.”
“Okay, then. I’ll be careful which surfaces I touch,” I said.
The bookmobile smelled of paper, not sex, as I climbed into the driver’s seat. The electric motor whispered as it came to life, the opposite of my car’s loud combustion engine.
About halfway home, I had to cross through a small, seedy neighborhood. From what I’d heard, the five-block radius saw rougher times in the 1980s and had seen a major clean-up effort in recent years. Several pedestrians stared at the vehicle, likely wondering why the bookmobile was on their street.
As a reminder it was still Monday, the steering wheel began to shake as I drove through the sketchy area. It only got worse as I continued. The dashboard flashed a symbol that looked like a flat tire.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered.
The vibrations became too intense to continue driving. In order to not block traffic, I pulled into a vacant parking lot. Three rough-looking men were loitering on the sidewalk in front of the run-down strip mall across the way, smoking cigarettes and kicking around a rock.
I hopped out of the vehicle to check out the situation. Sure enough, the rear passenger tire was flat. I’d never changed a tire on my small sedan so I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do it on the bookmobile.
I climbed back into the cab and opened the administrative binder the library
kept with the vehicle that tracked mileage and such. The packet would likely contain an emergency service I could call to come take care of the tire.
Before I could find a number or even pull out my phone, a sudden movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. The three men from the sidewalk stood in front of the vehicle, staring at me. One of them had brown juice from chewing tobacco on his teeth when he smiled through his greasy mustache. They all gave me the heebie-jeebies.
As I’m the type to see the good in another person and assume the best when we first meet, my first thought was perhaps they want to help but they looked at me like starved prisoners looking at a bloody steak. My intuition sounded alarms in my head and body.
With trembling hands, I hit the lock button on the door. My breath caught in my throat as I dropped my cell phone on the floorboard.
“It’s times like this I could use a boyfriend. Or father. Or a weapon,” I whispered to nobody in particular.
I glanced out the side window and got treated to a close-up of Mr. Brown Teeth’s face. His sideways grin lifted his acne-scarred cheeks as his dirty finger motioned for me to get out of the vehicle.
Before I could locate my phone where it slid under the seat, I screamed. My lungs burned as I made the most noise I’d ever made in my life.
I placed my hand on the horn but a moment before I pushed it, a loud metallic sound rang out from behind the bookmobile. The sharks circling my cab got bug-eyed and took off running.
Either the cops showed up or there’s something even scarier than those guys behind me.
2
Noah
Every day at the repair shop went the same—several dozen customers came in and out as I worked on vehicles, and there was always that one woman who thought she was the hottest thing ever and tried to get me to hook up with her. The aggression was always inversely proportional to the temptation.
As I sat at a long red light on the way home, an insistent blond who talked to me until closing time occupied my thoughts. She’d given me her business card, which I threw in the trash as I left. I had no desire to put down roots or start anything with her. It seemed easier to not get involved at all.
When I pulled away from the light, I noticed a beautiful young woman step out of a bookmobile in an unsavory parking lot ahead. I pissed off the car behind me by crawling along, but I wanted a better look.
I knew the vehicle was saddled with issues because nobody would set up a book event on that block. As I got closer, I noticed a group of rough guys walking toward the van. The woman was climbing back into the cab as I whipped my car in a space on the opposite side of the aisle where I wouldn’t be noticed.
Screams hit my ears as I stepped out of the car door. I grabbed a crowbar from my trunk and ran toward the bookmobile. As I reached the rear of the vehicle and caught the attention of one of the punks, I banged the bar on the ground to demonstrate what I wanted to do to his ugly face.
“Get the fuck out of here!” I shouted. The man and his buddies took off like they’d seen the boogeyman. Nobody with an ounce of brains wanted to fuck with me.
I didn’t know what their intentions were but since the woman screamed, I figured she sensed a threat. After setting the bar on the ground to look less intimidating, I walked up to the driver’s window.
The frightened face of a gorgeous woman met my gaze. Her shiny brunette hair fell in her face as she held up her phone. “I’ll call the cops,” she shouted through the glass.
I held my hands in the air. “They’re gone. I won’t hurt you.”
The young woman stared at me, assessing the threat level. To ease her mind, I pulled out my wallet and grabbed my license and business card. I held both up at her window.
She rolled the window down a crack. “So you’re a mechanic?” she asked. Her voice caressed my ears like warm honey on a cold day.
I nodded. “Yep. My name’s Noah. Take a picture of my ID, send it to a friend, I don’t care.”
“I’m Jenna. Thanks for chasing away those guys,” she said, seeming to relax by the second. She didn’t bother taking any photos of my cards. I wished I could take one of her because I wanted to stare at her beauty forever. In addition to the prettiest round face that I could remember seeing, her upper body curves were spectacular. I pined to see what the rest of her looked like.
“No problem,” I said. “Bummer about your flat.”
“I’m getting ready to call someone to fix it.”
“Don’t bother,” I said. “I’ll fix it right now.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It could be two hours if you wait for a truck. It’ll be dark. I don’t want you out here that late.” The protective vibe surprised me since I just met Jenna moments earlier.
Jenna broke into a smile that threatened to melt my heart. She rolled her window down a few inches. “Okay, go ahead. Do you have what you need?”
“I’ll check the back,” I said, holding up a finger. The rear of the van held the spare tire underneath, along with a big jack and lug wrench. That was everything I’d require to get her back on the road, plus I had the crowbar in case I needed to pry anything.
I flashed Jenna a thumbs-up and began to work. I removed my long-sleeved t-shirt, exposing the tattoos covering both arms and shoulders. I hoped Jenna was a fan of body art as I showed off. Every time I glanced toward the cab of the van, I caught her eyes watching me from the passenger mirror.
Luckily, the bookmobile compared to the size of a short bus, so I didn’t need any air tools to get the job done. After twenty minutes of sweat and grit, I had the spare tire on the van.
Jenna was on her phone when I walked back to her window and tapped. She finished her call and rolled down the window.
“It’s all fixed,” I said.
“Oh, hey,” Jenna said. “I was just on the phone with my mother.”
I laughed. “Was she next in line to try if I couldn’t change the tire?”
Jenna gave a shy smile which only stoked the flames of my protective instincts. “Today is her birthday,” she said. “I’m fixing dinner for her at my place. I was telling her to show up later.”
“And here I thought you were taking books to a late-night librarian party,” I said.
Jenna laughed. “So, it’s seriously all ready to drive?”
“Yes,” I said. “The library will want to get to a tire shop to fix the tire and put it back in the rotation.”
“Okay, I’ll let my manager know when I return the vehicle.”
“Why are you driving this behemoth?” I asked.
“My manager let me borrow the bookmobile because my car wouldn’t start this morning,” Jenna said.
“Well, you’re in luck,” I said.
“Why?”
“You have a mechanic at your service. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to follow you home and fix your car,” I said.
Jenna hesitated. “How expensive are you? Will you have to tow it?”
“The tow will depend on what’s wrong with it. But the work is on me. Don’t worry about the cost,” I said. After having zero interest in the flirtatious women visiting my shop every day, I felt an urge to take care of Jenna. She was gorgeous but down-to-earth about it. I’d never known a librarian personally, but I suspected she had brains to go along with her beauty.
“Wow,” Jenna said, her green eyes sparkling with gratitude. “Yes, please, follow me back to my apartment.”
I gave her the biggest smile I could without looking like an idiot and ran back to my car. We drove about ten minutes before I pulled into a multi-unit complex behind the bookmobile.
Jenna parked at the edge of the parking lot to not be an ass and take up multiple spaces. My cock grew hard as I walked toward the bookmobile, anticipating my first up-close encounter with the beautiful woman.
I stood in stunned silence as I watched Jenna climb out of the cab. Her jeans made her curves look delicious. Her short height made me want to run over and carry her
on my back. Somehow, I found the strength to restrain myself.
“My car is the old red sedan right over here,” Jenna said.
“I’ll have a look,” I said. “I’ll need the key.”
Jenna spun the single key off her ring. “Thanks so much for doing this for me.”
“No big deal,” I said.
“I’d love to stick around out here and talk to you but I have to get dinner started. My mother will be here soon,” Jenna said.
“Which apartment are you in, so I can let you know when I’m done out here?”
“Building 130, Apartment 3C,” Jenna pointed two buildings over from where we stood.
“We have at least an hour of daylight left. I’ll let you know what I find,” I said.
“Thanks again,” Jenna said, then latched her arms around me. I did my best to lean my hard cock away from her so she didn’t think I was some kind of creeper only after her body.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” I said. My skin tingled long after she released the hug and turned to go inside. It was a couple of minutes before I remembered why I was there and went to my car to retrieve my toolbox.
For several peaceful, warm minutes, I forgot about my aversion to relationships and settling down. Jenna gave me the urge to protect her and give her everything she needed. The idea seemed insane since I’d only met her about an hour earlier.
Get a hold of yourself, Noah.
3
Jenna
Breathe, Jenna, breathe.
My heart pounded and lungs struggled to catch air on the walk up to my apartment. Noah was the sexiest man to ever do anything nice for me. He took an unlucky day for two vehicles and turned it into one of the luckiest of my life.
I wished I could’ve stayed at my car and watched his big, tattooed muscles turn a wrench or whatever he was doing. But it would’ve turned into an awkward conversation where he’d wonder when I’d shut up so he could get on with whatever mysterious life he led.
After a quick change out of my work clothes, I threw on my apron and prepped dinner. My mother loved to eat fish, so I tried a recipe for baked salmon with sweet candied onions and a brown sugar mandarin glaze. I hoped to impress her, even though she’d always been impossible to please.