by Marie Harte
“Hey, they’re women. They count.”
Cyn laughed. “That’s just mean.”
“And funny. But it’s all good. Matt’s friends with Liam and his guys. Del too. They’re actually a nice bunch of people. And they buy a lot from us. Don’t make enemies,” Nina warned.
Too late. In the month she’d been working in the shop, Cyn had only ever encountered Del and Liam. A good thing, because she had issues with men she was still trying to get over. But a lifetime of disappointments made it a long process.
She now felt a little bad about her behavior in the garage. It was Sanders’s misfortune that she’d talked with one of her chauvinistic ex-business partners prior to dealing with the car situation. Dan Fawkes was such a dick. The word scruples had never entered his pretty little head. The oily bastard. If he thought he could cheat her out of her entitled shareholder distributions, he could think again. She never let anyone screw her over when it came to business.
Now her personal life, on the other hand… That had taken a beating one too many times. But she’d learned. Or so she told herself.
She and Nina worked together to help a few more customers. Funny how the rushes came and went with no discernible pattern, not counting the morning craziness.
“Have I mentioned I’m thinking about becoming the neighborhood cat lady?” she said to Nina just as the bell over the front door chimed again. She finished cleaning up after the last order, not looking at Nina. But her friend’s silence made her curious.
A glance at Nina’s smirk had her groaning inside, because trouble was sure to follow.
“Hey, Foley,” Nina said with way too much pleasure. “How are you?”
“Lookin’ good, Nina. How’s Matt?”
“He’s great. And if he’s smart, he’s done all his Christmas shopping by now. Not like last year’s fiasco.”
The deep chuckle went straight through Cyn…and had her bristling at her reaction.
“I, ah, I’m here to apologize to your friend, actually.”
Cyn took that as her cue to turn around. Hell. Foley Sanders looked even better under the bright lights of the shop. She tried to pretend she wasn’t studying him as intently as he studied her.
But damn, where the hell had he come from? He topped her own grand six feet by a few inches, and even despite his layers of clothing, she couldn’t detect any body fat on the man. He had broad shoulders and—as she vividly recalled from eyeballing him at the garage—huge, tattooed arms.
Short black hair framed a handsome face. Rough and manly. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and that rumpled hair look that on her would have appeared messy but on him shouted “sexy.” Bright gray eyes watched her with caution, showing he had a measure of intelligence under all that muscle and ink.
She steeled herself not to get taken in by so much manliness. Neighborhood cat lady, remember? Besides, his cars are littering the parking lot! Men suck. He’s probably only into skinny chicks anyway.
That made her feel better, imagining his intolerance for real women.
But real women can be any size. Plump or stick thin, fat or slender, tall or… Shut up, Cyn! This isn’t time for a life lesson. Deal with Conan and love your gender later.
“Yes?” she said with an icy politeness that had Nina trying to bite back a grin.
“I’m sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He smiled, but she wasn’t buying the charm. “I’m Foley Sanders.” He held out a hand.
Nina stepped on her foot, and she jerked toward Foley before realizing it. She glared at Nina before reminding herself to be a professional. She’d dealt with overwhelming men before and would no doubt again. So she held out her hand and pasted a smile on her face. “Cyn Nichols.”
He blinked. “You’re related to Matt?”
“Yes, is there a problem with that?” She didn’t even have to pretend to be tired of that question. Matt was so handsome and in shape and popular. What tree had they shaken her out of?
“Not at all.” His grin broadened. “I just hadn’t realized Matt had such a hot sister.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Before I somehow piss you off again, I’m here to get the cars,” he said in a hurry. “Dale, our new guy, must have parked them in the wrong spot. Apparently our agreement was with the sewing place next door, not your parking lot. And I’m sorry I never answered your calls. I misplaced my phone again.” He gave her a disarming smile that—damn it—worked.
She felt herself blushing. “Oh. Sorry if I came on a little strong.” A little? Even she knew she’d been over-the-top bitchy. “It’s just that we had some complaints from customers, and I couldn’t understand why no one had gotten back to me.” She still didn’t understand that. What professional these days ever parted with his or her cell phone? But he’d made amends, so she could forgive him the lapse. “So you’ll move the cars?”
He held up a ring of tagged keys. “Right away, Ms. Nichols.”
“How do you know I’m not a Mrs.?” she asked, annoyed with the assumption. Was she so unattractive and ungainly she couldn’t land a man?
He had the gall to wink and nodded to her hand. “No ring. Trust me. First thing I checked…after that dress. That’s a really, really nice dress you’re wearing.” He let out a small sigh and left before she could think of something to say.
Like I’m sorry for being so damn defensive about my size. It’s not you, it’s me. But then, it’s guys like you who made me this way. Well, you and my mother.
“Ahem.”
Knowing she had to face the inevitable, she looked at the smug woman standing next to her and groaned at Nina’s wide smile.
“You and Foley Sanders. Oh my God, will you guys have the best-looking, tallest babies or what?”
COMING SEPTEMBER 2016
Order Marie Harte’s next book
in the Body Shop Bad Boys series
Roadside Assistance
On sale September 2016
Here’s a taste of Marie Harte’s spicy new Donnigans series
A Sure Thing
Worst day of the friggin’ year. Seattle had its doozies, but this one by far smacked of depression. In addition, it had been overcast and miserable all day, with rain continuing into the early evening. A glance around the surprisingly crowded gym full of men and women made Landon Donnigan wish for a return to the scorching heat of Afghanistan. Better that than the danger of desperate singles looking to hook up on Valentine’s Day.
God save me.
Though life in the Marine Corps had been fraught with risk—and not the bullshit emotional kinds of risks he’d been told he didn’t take—he’d enjoyed his time both overseas and in the States. During his service, he’d thought a civilian life behind a desk would be worse than anything he might imagine. Now he took his current job in stride, pleased to be useful once more.
But Valentine’s Day surrounded by flirting singles, in a gym? Sacrilege. Landon did his best not to make eye contact with anyone, especially the small group of women who kept looking his way. With any luck, they hadn’t noticed him, their attention on his supposedly charming younger brother Gavin standing next to him. He placed the hand weights he’d been using back on the rack, figuring he’d cut himself a break on his workout, just this once.
His brother glanced over his shoulder at the staring women. “Is it just me? Or do you feel almost hunted right now?” Gavin waved, and they waved back. “I mean, I have to be here. I’m a trainer. But shouldn’t all these women be out with their significant others celebrating with flowers and chocolates? I thought lonely women on V-Day stayed at home, sobbing into their Earl Grey and fighting their twenty-plus cats for bonbons. Kind of like you on any night of the week—alone and lonely.”
“You’re an ass.”
Gavin chuckled. “Yeah, I am. I’m kidding…about the women.” He ignored the finger Landon shot him. “Seriously though, most of the women I know are either out with friends or pissed off at men in general and sitting at ho
me.”
“Like Hope, you mean?” Landon drawled. Their little sister had supposedly broken up with her latest dickhead boyfriend yesterday. God willing, the next guy she dated wouldn’t be so toxic.
“Yeah. Like Hope.” Gavin nodded. “No worries, bro. Hope’s situation will work out.” Gavin took after their father in looks and temperament. Dark haired, too laidback, and for some reason, was well-liked by the ladies, who continued to watch him.
Landon followed his brother’s gaze to the attractive group. “They seem interested. Why not go ask ’em out?”
“No way in hell.” Gavin frowned. “We don’t fraternize with clients. Mac’s orders.”
“Really? Because you’ve got a mess of opportunity right over there.”
“That group is way too loaded for my blood. And by loaded, I mean richer than shit. They’re looking for a boy toy to play with. And rumor has it they break their toys.” Gavin glanced around him, then murmured, “Mac didn’t actually say I couldn’t date gym members. But when I tell them that, they leave me alone. I mean, they don’t want me fired from my job.”
With any luck, Gavin would hold onto this one for a while. The last two jobs hadn’t gone well. Landon wasn’t the only one adjusting to civilian life after the Corps. He subtly leaned closer to Gavin. Good. No scent of alcohol on little brother’s breath tonight.
“Smart excuse,” he said, trying to cover the sniff check.
“Smart. That’s me.” Gavin didn’t do smug as well as he thought he did. Not like their youngest brother, who’d come out of the womb smirking at life in general. “But why are you here? I’d have thought you and Claudia would be getting romantic. Hell, bro, it’s Saturday. You can’t use work as an excuse.”
Landon shrugged and retrieved his towel and water bottle from the floor. “I thought I told you we broke up. We were never more than friends anyway.” Intimate friends. He’d been smart enough to end their casual relationship two months ago when Claudia had been hinting about changing their status to something much more serious. He’d been getting bored, and her constant neediness grated. As if Landon had time for more trouble when he had so much work to do fixing his dysfunctional family.
“Yeah? That’s not what I heard.” A pause. “From Claudia.”
Crap. “She’s been to the gym lately?” She’d quit when they’d broken up. Landon had only seen her once since then. Just last week. They’d exchanged a pleasant greeting, nothing more.
“Yep. Heard her talking to Marsha about you yesterday, as if you two were still an item. Then she told me to say hi from her.” Gavin smiled wide. “So, hi.”
“Shut up.”
Gavin snickered.
Landon glanced around, praying the woman wasn’t there tonight. He hated hurting anyone, and he’d been surprised she’d taken their “friend” breakup so hard. Which only reinforced the notion he’d been right to sever it in the first place. Dating should be fun, not a minefield. He’d had enough of those to last a lifetime.
He scowled, feeling hemmed in. Jameson’s Gym was supposed to be his refuge in this chaotic civilian world. Landon appreciated the hell out of the owner giving his brother a job. Mac Jameson seemed to be a stand-up guy. He’d been a master sergeant in the Marine Corps before doing permanent damage to his knee, ending his time early. They shared that connection—common core values, an appreciation for discipline and order, and medical bullshit ending a guy’s dream.
“Mac here?” he asked.
Gavin shook his head. “Seriously? You’ve seen his wife, right? She’s hot as hell. No doubt they’re hanging at home for some ‘alone-time.’” Gavin sighed. “I miss uncomplicated sex.”
At his words, a pretty blond in tights stopped behind him and gave a toothy grin. “Hey, Gavin. How’s it going?”
His younger brother cringed, then turned around and gave her an insincere smile back. “Oh, ah, hi, Michelle. How are you?”
“Great. I just finished my workout.” She eyed Gavin the way a lion would a helpless gazelle. The comparison made it hard not to laugh, especially with the hunted look on Gavin’s face. “Shouldn’t you be out with your girlfriend tonight?” Michelle asked, her voice breathy. “Hope, right?”
“Hope’s my sister.”
“Oh, so you are single then. Megan and I were talking.”
“I’m single, yeah, but I don’t mingle with—”
Michelle grabbed him by the arm, her sharp nails a bright pink. “Lucky for me you’re here. I could really use a spotter.”
“I thought you said you were done with your workout.”
“I mean I’m almost done.”
Gavin couldn’t rightly refuse to help Michelle train. Landon ignored the beseeching look his brother shot him and subtly stepped away.
She tugged Gavin with her. “Then after, maybe you and I can do a casual dinner.” She blinked back at Landon. “How about you, Landon?”
Gavin hemmed, “Well, I don’t know. My brother and I were supposed to—”
“Go ahead, Gav.” Landon almost felt sorry for him. Then he remembered what Gavin had said and smiled. “Sorry, Michelle. I have plans. I’ll be at home drinking Earl Grey and playing with my cats.”
Gavin scowled at him.
* * *
“It was worse. Way worse.” Ava Rosenthal couldn’t believe how badly the date had gone.
Elliot blinked. “Seriously? Chris was so sexy and smart. I thought for sure you two would hit it off.” Her cousin, confidant, and workout partner, Elliot was a total player. He was the one who had set her up on last night’s date, and he had a little explaining to do.
As they walked next to each other on their treadmills Saturday afternoon, Ava took a good look around the gym, making sure she didn’t know anyone around her. Elliot loved to gossip, and she needed to get a few things off her chest. But as a therapist, she knew well the value of discretion. Elliot…not so much.
“You have to keep this quiet. I think he lives around here.”
“So what? Tell me. You know I’m dying to know how the date went.”
Ava felt the sweat pouring off her and started to relax. In retrospect, dating Chris “Handsy” Handsman was funny. Kind of. “Well, remember how I said I liked men closer to my size? Not huge or muscle-bound, but slender and scholarly?”
“Dorky Indiana Jones. I get it.”
She frowned. “Not exactly. I just feel more comfortable with men closer to my height. It’s easier to handle them if they get out of control.”
“No. Way.” Elliot paused his machine and leaned over the railing. “Chris Handsman, Mr. Zen, got grabby? Do you need me to beat his ass?”
She flushed. “Yes and no.” Her cheeks rivaled the surface of the sun for heat. “He acted like the perfect gentleman. He picked me up at the door. We had a lovely dinner. He actually asked me about myself and listened when I answered. It wasn’t all about him.” She still didn’t know where Chris had gotten the wrong signals. “But after he drove me home, he turned off the car and went straight for second base.” She lowered her voice. “And I hadn’t once signaled him to steal.”
“I know it’s bad when you’re using baseball analogies.” He started up his machine again.
“Not funny.”
“But true.” Elliot shook his head. “Damn. Never would have pegged Chris for being the aggressive type. You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I told him no in no uncertain terms, and he pulled away. Then I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing.”
“Ouch.”
She glared at her cousin. “It seems someone told him I was up for some ‘fun.’” She made air quotes.
“Oh. Huh. Well.” Elliot blinked, his green eyes a mirror for hers. “I might have said you were looking for a good man to break a dating dry spell. Someone impressive. Hung like a horse…”
“Elliot.”
“Kidding. About the hung part, I mean.” Elliot paused. “So was he?”
“Was he what?”
&nb
sp; “You know. Hung?”
“Like a toy poodle.” When he goggled, she huffed. “How the heck would I know? The minute he tried going for my shirt, the date was O. V. E. R.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Me?” She set her pace faster. “It’s one thing if I’m getting hot and heavy with a guy and he gets a little handsy.” At her cousin’s grin, she glared. “Yes, I’m aware of the play on words. Chris Handsman was handsy. Ha-ha. Hilarious.”
He chuckled, then coughed. “Sorry. Something stuck in my throat.”
“Your foot, maybe,” she muttered.
“Come on, Ava. You have to admit you need help.”
“Not from him.” She arched a brow and looked down her nose at him, because she knew how much he hated that expression. “Or you.”
“Seriously? Of the two of us, who gets more dates?”
“Having sex and dating aren’t the same thing.”
She must have said that a little too loudly, because the blond giant walking past her stopped and stared.
“What?” she snapped, embarrassed and not needing extra male attention after her recent dating disaster.
“Not a thing,” the giant said, his deep voice giving her shivers. He gave her a less than subtle once-over, then moved on.
She and Elliot watched him walk away. For some reason, she fixated on his tight, tight glutes, trying to be clinical about his physique instead of mesmerized. Totally not my type. Too muscle-y.
COMING NOVEMBER 2016
Acknowledgments
A huge thank-you to Jason from Townsend Auto Repair. I can’t tell you how much it helped that you took valuable time out of your day to educate me on how a shop should run and what mechanics actually do. No wonder you’re so busy all the time!
To Lisa S., for introducing me to the ins and outs of the legal system and the differences between felonies and misdemeanors, prison and jail. I truly appreciate it.
To Angi Clingan, for your help as a reader, friend, and for your expertise in nursing education. Thanks for all you do, and congrats on your LPN.