The Bad Boy Hockey Collection: A Collection Of Single Daddy Romances

by Cass Kincaid

“That’s where you come in, Mr. Mechanic,” I chuckle, trying to laugh it off. “You can fix this one, right?”

  His gaze lowers to the car before him, then up to meet mine again. “Let me see what I can do, Megan.”

  “Sounds promising enough,” I tell him. “Were you serious about giving me a ride to Aunt Nancy’s place?”

  “Nah.” He waves a dismissive hand. “I was going to make you walk.” His lips are pressed tightly together to suppress a full-fledged grin, one I know would be sexy as hell if he let it come out. But he doesn’t, instead pointing toward the red pickup truck parked behind my car on the side of the road. “Get in. We don’t want to keep Nancy waiting any longer to see you.”

  As much as I want to see my aunt, and as much as I have been waiting impatiently for that moment when she gives me a warm hug and makes me feel like everything is going to be okay—because that’s what she always does, and that’s what she does best—it occurs to me that I’m a bit disappointed. Every minute closer to being dropped off at Aunt Nancy’s house is one minute closer to not having Craig and his intense eyes and crooked smile in my line of vision.

  “Oh, by the way,” Craig calls out as he heads toward the passenger side of his truck, motioning for me to follow as he opens the door. “Welcome to Cardon Springs, Megan.”

  Chapter Two

  Craig

  In a town like Cardon Springs, it’s hard not to know absolutely everyone who lives here. And seeing as I not only grew up here but also returned after I left college, I know pretty much everything about everyone who was here before I left, and have heard pretty much everything about the ones who have come to reside here after me as well.

  Owning my own business in town helps with keeping tabs on everyone, too. It’s funny how being the one people turn to when they need on oil change on their car or the engine is making a funny noise—I actually get a kick out of the way some customers describe such noises—also makes people want to tell me all the small town gossip while they’re waiting for their vehicle to be ready or using the credit card machine to pay their bill.

  The older people in town tend to still see me as the kid who grew up trick-or-treating at their front doors and riding up and down the streets on my ten-speed bike despite the fact I own my own house, my own repair shop, and have a kid of my own.

  But Nancy Clayton has never been like that. She’s known me my whole life, just like everyone else, but she’s always treated me with the utmost respect since I came back to Cardon Springs. She sees me as the man I’ve struggled to become, the one who works damn hard to provide a good, solid life for my boy.

  Which is exactly why I’ve been doing favors for Nancy for years, especially since I returned to town, as well as giving her discounts here and there on her car repairs and maintenance. The woman’s practically a saint, and I can’t help but feel bad for her since her husband, Doug, passed away. She’s alone in that big old house.

  Until now. I wasn’t lying to Megan when I said her aunt gushes over her and talks about her all the time. The part I didn’t tell her was that Nancy has been hinting for months that she should acquaint me with her beloved niece, that we’d be such a cute couple.

  Her words, not mine. Also, not anything I’m interested in. There isn’t enough room in my life for anyone but Ellis, and that’s how I prefer it.

  That doesn’t stop Nancy from dropping hints and reminding me about her niece every time I see her in town. The woman’s got a routine; first she asks how Ellis is doing, then she swoops in and mentions how the two of us need a good woman in our lives.

  While I agree that my son deserves a mother figure, I won’t be rushing into anything in order to try to provide him with that. In fact, I tend to hurry off in the opposite direction when it comes to women now, not toward them.

  Funny how someone prefers to avoid relationships after the love of his life breaks up with him and doesn’t tell him about his unborn son until she’s on her deathbed and forced to tell him. I don’t want to be a bitter man, but I still get a bad taste in my mouth when I think about why she would do that to me. Why she would do that to her own son.

  I shake my head to rid myself of the thoughts that plague me. I can’t think about those things right now, not when Nancy’s niece is perched in the passenger seat of my truck and I’m just turning onto her aunt’s street.

  Nancy was right—Megan is beautiful. She’s also wearing her apprehension about being here on her face like makeup. It’s obvious she’s not sure what to think about moving to this town. Or maybe she’s just not sure what to think about me.

  One thing I do know for sure is I was a lot subtler about checking her out than she was as she let her eyes roam.

  I find it amusing, though. The women around town are either only interested in me because they think I have money—owning a business gives that illusion, although they don’t seem to realize that the bank still owns the repair shop until I pay the loan off, which won’t be until I’m about ninety years old—or they won’t come near me with a ten-foot pole, like being a single dad is something contagious.

  It makes me wonder which of those two kinds of women Megan is.

  Seeing Nancy standing in the front window of her house as I pull my truck into the driveway puts a stop to any further contemplation. The wide smile on her face, however, creates a whole new set of thoughts, mostly concerning just how far the woman is about to take this matchmaking bug she’s been bitten by.

  “Meg!” she squeals, hobbling out onto the front porch before I even have a chance to get out of the truck. Megan barrels out of the passenger side, running toward her aunt and enveloping her in a tight hug.

  “Thanks for sending in the reinforcements when I called you,” she chuckles at her aunt. “I thought you meant you were picking me up yourself.”

  “I said I’d sort it out, Meg. And I did,” she advises proudly, her arms still hanging loosely onto her niece like she might get away if she lets go. “Sent the most honest man I could think of to fetch you. The most handsome one, too.” Nancy winks, giving Megan’s arm a squeeze as I step up onto the porch and drop Megan’s purse down by her feet.

  “You do realize I’m standing right here,” I joke.

  Nancy waves her hand dismissively. “Thank you for saving my Meg, Craig. I owe you a big old home-cooked meal.”

  “You make it sound like he slayed the dragon and saved me like some damsel in distress, Aunt Nancy. My car broke down; it didn’t try to eat me.” Megan steals a glance my way, rolling her eyes. The humor alight in them makes my own grin widen.

  “Anytime,” I say, meaning it. Nancy is one of the few people in town I would do just about anything for, so picking up her niece from the side of the road seems like a menial way to help her out. I turn to Megan. “I’ll tow your car to my shop and see what I can do to get it fixed for you, Megan.”

  “I appreciate it,” she says, reaching down for her purse. “How much do I owe you for the—”

  “I haven’t even done anything yet,” I laugh, shrugging. “Don’t worry about the money, since we don’t even know exactly what we’re dealing with. You just look after Nancy for now, and we’ll call it even for the tow call.” I shift my gaze to Nancy, giving her a wink, which delights the woman so much I’m surprised she refrains from clapping her hands together and blushing like mad. At least I know where her niece inherited the immediate blushing response from.

  “You seriously don’t even want a credit card number or something?” Megan looks downright suspicious, frozen in place with her hand in her purse.

  I laugh loudly then, a full, wholehearted sound from my lower diaphragm. “City girls,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, I know where to find you.”

  While Megan might look confused and shocked at my relaxed demeanor, Nancy is almost bursting at the scenes. She’s only hearing what she wants to hear—and what she wants to hear is that I’m telling her pretty niece that I will seek her out.

  “We’ll be in to
uch,” I add, turning to head back toward my truck, knowing damn well Nancy is vibrating with enthusiasm and nodding her head. “You have a good day, Nancy,” I call out, waving my hand without turning back.

  “You, too, Craig!” she shouts.

  But she shouldn’t be thanking me at all, because I did something selfish. I purposely left Megan’s luggage in the back of her car so I’d have to see her again. I don’t know why I did it, or why I was compelled to even want to in the first place. But Nancy’s niece is going to need her belongings, and since I’m about to go tow her car to my repair shop, she’ll have to go through me to get to them.

  Again, I don’t know why I did it. But the bigger question is on the tip of my tongue, and as I steal a glance back toward Megan, still standing on the front step with her aunt, her crystal blue eyes fixated on me, I ask it to myself.

  I might have made sure I got to see Megan again by not grabbing her luggage, but why was she so interested in me that she didn’t even think of it herself?

  Chapter Three

  Megan

  “You did that on purpose.” I follow Aunt Nancy into the kitchen and can already hear the kettle gearing up to whistle shrilly. She’s always believed that there’s a tea for every occasion, so I’m not surprised to see two mugs set out on the counter, teabags already placed in both of them, ready to be steeped.

  My aunt turns to face me after unplugging the kettle. “Did what?” The devious grin on her face tells me she knows exactly what I’m referring to.

  “Sending the cute mechanic to pick me up instead of driving out there yourself,” I explain.

  “So you do think he’s cute.” She lets out a stifled squeal of excitement, pouring the hot water into the mugs. “Craig’s such a good man, Meg. I’ve told him all about you—”

  “He mentioned that,” I interject, taking one of the mugs in my hands when she offers it to me. “And just what exactly have you been telling him? That I’m a university graduate with no job and more debt than I’ll ever dig myself out of? Or that I’m essentially homeless because I couldn’t bring myself to crawl back home to Mommy and Daddy and ask for help, so my amazing aunt came to the rescue to bail me out?”

  “Oh, Meg.” Aunt Nancy waves her hand like what I’ve just said isn’t true. But, unfortunately, it is. “You always were so dramatic, dear. You should be proud of your education. And I am hardly bailing you out of anything. I just put in a good word with Harold at the Chronicle, and the rest just kind of fell into place. You’ll get a handle on the debt once you start working. Things will work out, Meg, I promise.”

  “Maybe,” I hiss when the hot liquid burns my top lip as I attempt to take a sip. “But only because of you. Thank you, Aunt Nancy. For talking to the guy at the newspaper, and for letting me stay here until I can get back on feet again.”

  She reaches out and squeezes my arm affectionately. “You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you want, dear. The company will be nice.” She leans in to whisper, “And we can talk about boys.”

  Despite my dreary mood from talking about my reasons for being here, I laugh. Leave it to my aunt to think we’re going to stay up late, braid each other’s hair, and giggle about the boys in town. “You mean you’re going to talk about boys, and I get to listen,” I correct her.

  “Well, I’m going to talk about Craig,” she advises with a shrug. “It’s up to you whether you want to see how right I am about the two of you.”

  “What about us?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

  Almost.

  “You’re perfect for each other!” she exclaims, like I’ve missed the most obvious point in the world. “He works hard, does everything he can for his son—”

  “His son?” That makes my eyebrows arch high. “Oh, Aunt Nancy, I don’t need someone in my life with a crazy ex-girlfriend and custody issues.”

  “You’re doing it again,” she chides halfheartedly.

  “What?” Even though I know exactly what she’s referring to.

  “Assuming you know the story before you hear it. Don’t jump to conclusions, Meg, dear. You’ve had a rough time lately, and so has Craig Connelly. You both could use a good friend.” My aunt turns, her mug of tea in her hand, and proceeds to walk out of the kitchen.

  I wilt, automatically feeling guilty. She’s right, but that doesn’t make hearing it any easier. “Where are you going?” I call after her.

  “To drink my tea in my chair by the window. Then I’ll get you the number for Craig’s repair shop.”

  “But he said he’d call us when he knew where things were at with my car.” I follow her into the living room.

  “True,” She eases into her chair as smoothly as physically possible considering the state of her knee joints. “But unless I’m mistaken, your luggage is still in that car of yours, because I didn’t see it on the front porch. And I doubt you’ll want to be wearing my clothes.”

  “Shit,” I mutter under my breath, taking a seat on the couch across from her. “I didn’t think of my stuff until now.”

  “I know.” She grins devilishly again over the rim of her mug. “Too busy thinking about the cute mechanic.”

  “You’re relentless,” I chuckle.

  “And you’re transparent,” she retorts, her grin never wavering.

  ***

  Two cups of tea and way too many of the ginger cookies Aunt Nancy had me grab from the pantry later, I feel calmer and more relaxed than I have in ages. My aunt has always had that effect on me, with her easy conversation and comforting demeanor, and I’m thinking about how making the decision to move in with her might be the best decision I’ve ever made when she finally speaks again after a comfortable silence.

  “I’d better get you the number for Craig’s shop.”

  I shift my weight to pull my cell from my back pocket, waving it at her. “Just tell me what his shop is called. I’ll Google it.”

  “You know, that thing isn’t going to work well here. We’ve got dead zones all over the place,” she explains, eyeing up the phone like it’s the devil reincarnate.

  “This day and age, and there’s still crappy cell service here?” I look at her like she’s the devil reincarnate.

  “This day and age, and you’d want someone to get a hold of you at any time, day or night?” She’s skeptical, and I don’t have to ask if Aunt Nancy owns or wants a cellphone.

  “It’s a necessity,” I argue with a smirk.

  “It’s a damn pain, that’s what it would be, having one of those things attached to your hip twenty-four seven.”

  “Who’s the dramatic one now?” I chuckle. “I have three bars, so just give me his number.”

  Aunt Nancy leans over the side of her reclining chair and pulls a thick book from the shelf under the end table. The sight of it has me pulling myself up into a sitting position, my eyes bulging from my head.

  “Tell me that’s not a phonebook,” I say in wonder.

  My aunt’s brows furrow as she turns the pages. “What the heck else would it be?”

  I burst out laughing. “Oh my God, I didn’t even know they made those anymore!” I’m still unable to hold in my sporadic chuckling when I realize she’s got her finger on a spot on the inside cover. “His last name starts with C. What are you looking at on the inside cover?”

  Aunt Nancy turns the book towards me, and I see the words Craig’s repair shop scrawled inside in Uncle Doug’s handwriting. My heart twists slightly at the reminder that he’s gone, and I suddenly know why my aunt hasn’t gotten rid of the phonebook. Not only is it the old-fashioned way she prefers to do things, it’s a piece of her beloved husband she gets to keep.

  “Craig’s repair shop, huh?” I say softly, trying to make light of the moment. “Such an original business name.”

  “I don’t know what it’s actually called,” she says with a smile. “Never had to ask. Maybe you can find out when you talk to him.”

  “Relentless,” I mutter, shaking my head. I dial the number before she has
a chance to say anything more. I’m about to hang up when a low, familiar voice answers on the other end.

  “Connelly Auto, Craig speaking.”

  Yeah, definitely an unoriginal business name. “Hey, Craig. It’s Megan.” I pause for a split second, but he says nothing. “Nancy’s—”

  “I know who you are, Megan,” he laughs. “I was just checking my cell to see what time it was. Took you a lot longer to call about your luggage than I thought it would.”

  I let out a long breath, trying to calm myself. “Very funny. You have a cellphone. I’m impressed.” I shoot Aunt Nancy a grin, which she rolls her eyes at.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing,” I chuckle. “Inside joke with my aunt. When’s a good time to come pick my stuff up?”

  “Can you wait another hour or so?” he asks. “I can drop it off on my way home.”

  My stomach flutters at the thought of seeing those dark eyes again. “Yeah, that’ll be fine. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem, Megan. I’ll see you and Nancy soon. Tell her I’ll be wanting some honey this time.”

  “What?” A blush floods my cheeks. Did he really just say what I think he said?

  I can hear Craig’s muffled laughter. “She’ll know what I mean.”

  He ends the call, leaving me staring dumbfounded at my aunt.

  “He says he’ll drop off my stuff,” I tell her, dazed. “And that he wants honey this time?”

  Aunt Nancy snaps her fingers, rising from the chair. “Shoot, that’s right! That boy’s never going to let me live that one down.”

  “What the hell are we even talking about here?” I stand, following her into the kitchen, so confused I’m not even sure I want to know what he was referring to.

  She heads straight to the cupboard and pulls a new jar of pasteurized honey from the shelf, turning to show it to me. “Honey,” she says, like I should know what’s going on. “He was here last week after helping me get my groceries from the car and into the house, and I made him tea but didn’t have any honey to go in it. That’s the way he likes it, Meg. You know, for future reference.”