by Cass Kincaid
I throw my hands up in the air, surrendering. “Relentless!” I exclaim, exasperated.
“What did you think he wanted, Meg?” she asks, a knowing smirking on her face. “C’mon, tell me.”
The heat in my cheeks is flaming at this point, but I shake my head. “You know what? I don’t care what Craig Connelly wanted, Aunt Nancy, but I do know what I want.” I fix my gaze on her. “A drink.”
My aunt shrugs her shoulders as though pondering that. “Hmm, well, maybe Craig will want one of those, too, when he gets here.”
“Oh my God!” I scream, pressing my palms into my eye sockets. “You’re driving me nuts, you know that, right?”
“Meg, my dear,” she says soothingly, coming up beside me to wrap one arm around me. “I’m just getting started.”
Chapter Four
Craig
I know I shouldn’t be encouraging Nancy’s antics when it comes to her obvious infatuation with matching her niece and I up together. I mean, I know it’s not going to go anywhere, and I know I’m not interested in pursuing anything with anyone—Ellis, my ten-month-old son, doesn’t need women coming in and out of his life. Hell knows I’ve got enough I’m going to have to explain to him someday.
But, damn it, Nancy’s constant attempts at making Megan see her point of view is downright entertaining, even if it is something that will never happen.
I’ve got my cup of tea on the kitchen table in front of me, grayish steam billowing from it as I stir in a spoonful of honey. Megan is across from me, and Nancy sits to my right, clutching her own mug and leaning in so close that it gives the illusion she’s actually between her niece and me, her gaze bobbing from me to her and back again, watching and waiting hopefully for the moment we agree to her blatant matchmaking attempts and give in.
Fortunately, Megan seems just as uninterested in the notion as I am, so I won’t need to be explaining myself to her. I don’t date, and I haven’t since the day I laid eyes on my son for the first time. He’s my world now, and there is no woman in this world who would understand that. After losing Ella the way I did—after she kept the pregnancy from me the way she did—I don’t trust anyone to put my son first the way he deserves.
So, I have to steer clear of relationships. Of anyone who might complicate things even more than they already are. Ellis and I have settled into a pretty routine life since he was released from the hospital and I moved back to Cardon Springs and bought out Arnie Shelding’s auto repair business.
Ellis and Connelly Auto are the only two things I need right now. But Nancy sure doesn’t seem to see it that way.
“Will you be partaking in the men’s league this season, Craig?” Nancy’s hands are wrapped around her mug, watching me intently.
“What men’s league?” Megan asks before I have a chance to respond.
“There’s a local hockey team that is put together just outside Cardon Springs each year. Just a group of guys who enjoy the sport. Nothing fancy.” I turn to Nancy. “I doubt I will join in this year. I can’t be asking my mom to watch Ellis in the evenings, too, after having him all day while I’m at the shop.”
“You just bring that little boy of yours here anytime you need someone to watch him for a bit, Craig. You know I’d love to have him here. And Lord knows I need to start returning some of the favors you’ve done for me since you moved home.” She reaches out and pats my hand gently.
“I appreciate that, Nancy,” I tell her truthfully. “And you know damn well I don’t expect you to do anything in return for anything I’ve done.”
“Good,” she beams widely, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischievousness. “You can do me one more favor and show my darling Meg around town. A little tour of sorts. Tomorrow, perhaps?”
“Aunt Nancy!” Meg exclaims, her cheeks flaming a deep crimson red as she processes what her aunt just said. Her gaze snaps over to mine. “Craig, no. I’d never expect you to...I mean, I have to work at the Chronicle, anyway...I don’t even—”
She stops stammering the moment I start to chuckle, lifting my hand in front of my mouth to stifle it. “You know I’m going to have to agree to show you around now that Nancy’s asked so politely, right?” I shift my eyes to the delighted looking older woman beside me. “I just had Ed Nelson cancel his appointment tomorrow afternoon. I can—”
“I’m sure you’re swamped with other things you could—”
“Megan,” I chuckle, leaning forward onto my elbows. “My shop is around the corner from the newspaper’s office. I’ve got to walk past it to pick up my mail anyway, so I can manage to steal away for half an hour and show you where everything is. It’s not a big town. Trust me, it won’t take long.”
I don’t know why I want to. Maybe because Nancy is so insistent. Maybe because Megan is so against it. Or maybe it’s because she’s the only interesting thing to happen in this sleepy town in the ten months I’ve been back, someone else to get the good ole’ gossip lovers going instead of me and my dramatic reappearance.
Maybe it’s purely because she’s sexy. I don’t know. Either way, I plan to show her around town tomorrow afternoon, hopefully have a quote for her about her car repairs, and then things can go back to normal. I can handle Nancy’s incessant innuendos, even if Megan can’t.
“You don’t have to do this,” Megan says once more, this time more sternly.
“I want to,” I reply, giving her aunt a wink.
“It’s settled then!” Nancy claps her hands, the gavel being slammed down to announce the verdict is no longer in question.
“This is ridiculous.” Megan hangs her head in her hands, shaking it like she can’t believe what just happened. “You’re so going to regret this, Aunt Nancy,” she whispers, not caring that I can hear her.
Well, damn. I might be more than capable of handling Nancy, but it looks like Megan and her feisty streak could be a whole other story.
Suddenly, Cardon Springs just got a whole lot more interesting.
***
It rains the entire day, and even from my vantage point inside my repair shop with the garage door opened to help with air circulation, I can tell the dampness that hangs in the air and the raindrops that splatter on the sidewalk and streets are going to make the impromptu tour of this town a whole lot less appealing to Megan. In fact, with each ting, ting, ting sound that catapults onto the steel roof of my shop, I’m more and more surprised she hasn’t called to try to cancel our date.
It’s not a date, I quickly correct myself. It’s the furthest thing from it, especially seeing the way she was so against even going through with it yesterday. I know it’s not a date. Hell, it’s barely a friendly meetup.
That doesn’t explain why there’s a twist of nervousness in the pit of my stomach, though. Or why I’m looking forward to seeing her.
I don’t know the woman, and I don’t know anything about her save for what Nancy has told me and the little bit I learned yesterday. But I want to know more, want to see her and find out what I can, and maybe that’s the reason for my twinge of uncertainty.
I haven’t wanted to spend time with anyone else other than Ellis since the first moment I saw him. I haven’t wanted to try to be something to anyone else other than being a good father to him since that day all those months ago.
So, what is it about Megan that makes me want to go to her now? It’s a foreign sensation to want to get to know someone despite knowing I can’t bring myself to trust them or let them in the way I once had the ability to.
But Ella stole that ability from me, and she took it with her the day she died. In its place, she left me Ellis, and he’s the only thing that matters to me now. In a way, I blame her for what I’ve become—untrusting and alone—but in a way I can’t blame her at all. Ella died giving me the little boy who has become my world, and she used her last breaths to make sure I was united with him. For that, I will be forever grateful to her.
The fact that I lost the only woman I ever truly loved, though? That will haun
t me till the day I die.
I push the thought away, back down into the deep, dark recesses of my mind where it’s stayed buried for so long. Sure, it resurfaces in my weakest moments, but I have the power to push it back down, to prevent myself from having to think about it too much. That’s how I get through each day. That’s why I can function so well and focus on my life with Ellis and on being everything he needs me to be.
That’s why I’m just fine.
Yeah, if only I believed that.
I finish inputting the information from the work order for my current appointment into the computer and print the invoice out. Then, on a whim, I decide to call the Chronicle and make sure Megan’s still planning to meet up in about a half hour.
“So, this is where the magic happens, huh?”
I’ve got the phone in my hand, so the sound of her voice startles me, and I know my eyes must be wide when I snap my gaze up to look at her. “Megan. You’re early.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been late for anything in my life,” she says, her gaze still scanning the two-bay garage with interest. “In fact, being on time is just as good as being late in my books, so I’m always early for everything.”
“Always?” I’m too aware of how good she looks in her black dress pants and pale yellow sleeveless top to say anything more. Her dark hair hangs loosely in wet tendrils, dripping darkened spots onto her shirt in front of her shoulders.
“I was even born premature, so you know I’m serious when I say I’m always early,” she grins crookedly.
“My son was, too.” The words fall from my lips without thinking. “Premature, I mean. Maybe he’ll be like you. Early for everything.” I rarely talk about Ellis to people unless others mention him first, so the realization catches me off guard and I clench my jaw tightly in attempt to hide my own surprise.
Megan must notice, though, because I swear I see her eyes narrow slightly, watching me with an intensity like she’s trying to figure me out.
Good luck, I think wryly.
“Harold at the Chronicle told me to take an hour-long lunch break,” she says after clearing her throat. “I wasn’t expecting more than half an hour, so I decided to come by and see where things were at with my car.”
I lean forward onto the service desk, a makeshift cubicle in the corner of the lobby area of the building. There’s an actual office around the corner, but I still haven’t had a chance to sort through the boxes of stuff that were left from the previous owner. “I was just going to call you. Your car’s fuel pump needs replaced, along with a host of other things. You’re aware that car is pretty much unfit to be on the road, right?”
“You’re supposed to be saying things that make me happy to see you, Craig,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her. “That was quite the contrary.”
Relief floods through me when I see she’s actually showing the ghost of a grin on her lips. Jesus, I’d had myself convinced the woman was going to cry her pretty eyes out when I told her the bad news. “I’ll have to work on that, I guess.”
“I’d say,” she agrees with a smile. She unfolds her arms, sighing. “So, what are we talking here for cost, Mr. Connelly? Is this like a-few-hundred dollars expensive, or like you’re-going-to-live-on-ramen-noodles-until-you’re-thirty expensive?”
I burst out laughing, letting my head fall forward. “Wow, I’m a fan of your descriptions,” I admit, shaking my head in amusement. “That depends. How close were you already to having to live on ramen noodles?”
“Damn.” She sighs again. “That bad, huh?”
I’m not blind, or an idiot. I know from Nancy’s incessant chatter that Megan has fallen on some hard times lately, and there’s no way someone moves here from Dallas with only the stuff they have in their car to live with their aunt and work at the Chronicle unless she’s strapped for cash. The woman needs someone to cut her some slack for once. I know the defeated look in her eyes; I’ve wore it myself.
I stand up, slapping my hands down on the desk. “You know what? Let me worry about your car, okay? We’ll work out a deal later. Something that will work for both of us. Sound good?”
She stares at me as though she’s trying to read me like a book. After a long pause, she says, “I don’t exchange sexual favors for car repairs.”
That hint of a smile tugs at her lips again, making me smirk. “Well, shit, Megan. Now I’m going to have to come up with something else to bargain with.” I come around the desk and go to the window, flipping the sign so that it reads Closed. “Now, if you’re done being a smartass, can I take you on the ridiculously short tour of Cardon Springs?”
“I’m not sure I can handle the anticipation, but lead the way, Craig.”
Chapter Five
Megan
Cardon Springs is much nicer than I remember from when I used to come and visit Aunt Nancy and Uncle Doug as a kid. When I’d initially seen the rain pelting down through the window of the newspaper’s office, I was disappointed, thinking I would have to postpone the tour of this place with my very own personal tour guide.
Then, I decided that, no, I wasn’t going to do that. I’d laid in bed the night before after staying up chatting with Aunt Nancy and I’d actually been looking forward to seeing the sights with Craig.
I didn’t know him, but I didn’t have to. Aunt Nancy did, and she liked him, and I have always trusted her impression of others.
The thing is, I like him, too, despite not really knowing him at all. Then again, maybe I just like the idea of having someone around my age to talk to.
Not to mention, Craig Connelly is very easy on the eyes.
So, when I asked Harold at the Chronicle where Connelly’s Auto was, and he chuckled while telling me it was only a hop, skip, and a jump away, pointing in the general direction, I’d headed right over, expecting Craig’s amusing banter and his own intriguing brand of sexiness.
But I never expected this. The man isn’t only sexy as he stands there in grease-stained jeans and a worn charcoal t-shirt with a motorcycle logo on it, he’s absolutely delectable. There’s a smudge of black across his cheekbone and his hands are filthy, too, but he exudes masculinity. A hardworking man who’s good with his hands.
He’s had my brain heading straight for the gutter since the moment I walked through the opened garage door, and after he cleaned up and changed his clothes to take me out on my tour, I had a hard time keeping my eyes off him. Craig even offered to drive me around instead of walking so we didn’t have to trudge through the rain, but I figured I’d already gotten soaked on the way here, and perhaps the cool raindrops would lower the temperature of my blood, boiling in my veins.
Now, we’re both walking down the sidewalk of Main Street, undoubtedly looking like a pair of drowned rats, but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Craig is right, there isn’t much to show off when it comes to Cardon Springs. The locally owned grocery store and the café are side by side; no franchise businesses here. The post office is in the same building as the gas station with two pumps and a convenience store that is open until nine o’clock every night, and there’s a bank and a diner further down the street.
Craig is shoulder to shoulder with me as we bounce up the steps of the post office so he can grab his mail, and I steal the opportunity to hide under the eave while he ducks in and retrieves it. When he comes back out with a handful of flyers and envelopes, I’m wringing my hair out, a huge grin on my face.
“What’s so funny?” Craig asks, running his free hand through his hair.
“Did I really read that sign right when we walked by the diner?” I reply. “It’s only open until eight o’clock in the evening?”
He nods. “Yeah, that’s right. What’s so funny about that?”
“But it’s the only restaurant you’ve got here! What the heck do you guys do when everything shuts down by eight or nine at night?” I laugh.
Craig purses his lips, failing to suppress the grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth, and gives me a s
ideways glance. “We don’t need nightclubs and bars to keep ourselves entertained, city girl.” He leans in, letting his tongue run across his bottom lip before he whispers, “I can think of a few ways to spend an evening after everything shuts down, Meg.”
I gasp as his breath caresses across my cheek, hot and damp. Heat floods my cheeks, and my heart bangs against my ribcage. My body is completely in tune with him, crying out for the promise in his innuendo, to experience fully exactly what he might be referring to. My mind is just as keen, but at least it’s holding on by a thread, keeping me from saying or doing something I might regret later.
I’ve just about regained my composure when I realize that Craig is still dangerously close, his gaze fixed on my lips, only inches from his. There’s no way he couldn’t have heard me gasp, and judging by how flushed my face is, he knows damn well he’s affecting me.
“W-we should go,” I whisper suddenly. “You probably need to pick up your son, and I don’t want to keep you.”
Just like that, the moment is shattered and I can breathe again as he moves away from me. “Right. I’ve actually got another appointment coming in before I’m done for the day, then I can pick up Ellis. But I’ll walk you back to the Chronicle, seeing as it’s on the way to my shop.”
The awkwardness hangs between us like a veil. I’m not sure what I feel worse about—freaking out because I thought he might kiss me, or mentioning his son in order to do it. “Ellis,” I say softly. “That’s a cool name for your little boy.”
Craig gives me a halfhearted smile, wiping raindrops out of his eyes. “He’s named after his mama. Her name was Ella.”
“Was?” The word topples from my lips before I have time to think it through. But Craig answers just as quickly, and I see his throat move in my peripheral vision.
“She passed away just after having Ellis. She’d been in a car accident.”
My stomach plummets. Acid rises in my throat, from the guilt of knowing I had initially assumed that he had a crazy ex and a load of personal drama. “I’m so sorry, Craig,” I tell him, meaning it. “I had no idea.”