Blue Colla Make Ya Holla

by Laramie Briscoe

  “Excuse me?” Joanne had no idea what kind of point he was making, but she didn’t like the direction his conversation was going. He’d been trying to make excuses ever since he got caught in his affairs.

  He grabbed her upper arm. Stan wasn’t necessarily strong, but his fingers dug into her flesh and pinched her skin, causing her pain. “You never listen to me. You can’t expect to fulfil a man’s needs if you never listen to him. I had to find other women to talk to.”

  Joanne would have sworn her jaw hit the floor at his excuse. He’s blaming me? He thought I didn’t listen to him? She sent a prayer up asking for willpower, because there was nothing in the world she wanted more in this moment than to kill the bastard where he sat.

  She pulled her strength into her with a breath. “I wouldn’t call what you were doing talking.”

  Immediately, as if sensing her fury, Stan turned placating. “JoJo, let’s not fight. You made a mistake, but it’s all behind us now.”

  That was it. Joanne couldn’t do this anymore. He thinks we could just move on from this like nothing had happened? He isn’t even apologizing! He isn’t even promising it would never happen again. If Joanne had any doubts about their future—or lack thereof—they were gone now. She was done.

  She stood abruptly, pushing back her chair and yanking her arm from his tight fingers. “No,” she stated firmly. “I don’t want to hear anymore. You’re right I made a mistake, but my mistake was trusting you.”

  Stanley stood when she did. “Joanne, you’re causing a scene. Can’t you let it go for one night?”

  She grabbed her purse hanging from the back of the chair. “No, I can’t let it go.” With those words, she stormed out of the restaurant and to her grandmother’s blue Caddy. I’ve got to find time to get my own transportation, she thought. When her car had been wrecked a year prior, she hadn’t felt the need to buy a new one since she lived with Stan just two blocks from the hospital where they both worked. So now she was forced to borrow her grandmother’s car until she could make time to buy a new one.

  Sticking the key in the ignition, she turned it, but nothing happened. She heard some clicking sounds. She tried again to the same results. A third try didn’t end any better. Suddenly, her door was jerked open, and Stan was standing there glaring.

  “This is probably a sign you should stay here and talk things out instead of running away,” he said.

  “I’m not running away.”

  “JoJo, please. Come back inside. We’ll apologize to Aaron and Ashlyn, we’ll finish out the meal, then I’ll take you home.”

  Joanne shouldered him out of the way as she got out of the car. She slammed the door shut and rummaged in her purse for her phone. “There’s no way I’m going to get stuck in a car with you.”

  “JoJo—”

  “And quit calling me that! You know I hate it.” She pulled up the contacts on her phone and hit connect. Was it fate that gave her the personal phone number of a tow truck driver just that morning? What would I have done if I didn’t have it? Would I have given in to Stan’s demands? Thank God I don’t have to find out.

  “Hello,” a low rumbling voice came through her phone.

  “Hey, Nate. I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “Who are you calling?” Stan interjected.

  Joanne pulled the phone away from her mouth and covered it with a hand. “I’m calling for a tow truck.”

  “In trouble again already?” Nate asked. She could hear the humor in his tone, and even in the face of everything, it made her smile too.

  “Ah, yes, actually. My car won’t start. I might need a tow.”

  “Is that all you need?”

  Joanne paused at the suggestion in his voice, and a shiver raced down her spine. Her eyes automatically turned to Stan. It felt weird having thoughts about another man with a previous boyfriend right here in front of her. “Um, for now.”

  “Joanne, there’s no need for this. Let me drive you home,” Stan insisted.

  “Who’s there with you?” Nate’s voice was sharp.

  “Stan, leave me alone. I’ve got this.”

  “Where are you?” Nate asked immediately. She gave him the restaurant’s address. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  “That long?” She hated to sound petulant, but she didn’t want to stay in Stan’s presence for one minute longer than she had to.

  “Sweetheart, I have to go get the truck. Trust me, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  She wasn’t sure why, but she did trust him. Just knowing he was on his way was enough to calm her.

  Thirteen minutes later, based on the clock on her phone, a Bubba’s tow truck was pulling up beside her. Relief flooded her body, and she shook her head. Why on God’s green earth am I so accepting of a man I’ve only met mere hours ago? She couldn’t explain it, but there it was.

  Nate jumped from the cab of the truck. He eyed Stan warily as he approached her. “Joanne.” He nodded at her then gestured to the Caddy. “What did you do to it? It worked fine this morning.”

  She handed him the keys. “I don’t know what’s wrong. It won’t start.”

  Nate took the keys from her and slid partway inside to try the ignition himself. Sure enough, it still didn’t start. He popped the hood and walked around to peer underneath.

  Joanne was so intent on eyeing Nate’s finely shaped ass sticking out from under the hood that she failed to notice Stan moving toward her. He once again grabbed her by the upper arm and forced her around to face him.

  “Who the hell is that?” he hissed. “Why do you have his number? And why were you with him this morning?”

  Once more, Joanne pulled out of his grasp. “He’s a fucking tow truck driver,” she yelled. “Why do you think I have his number?”

  “Is there a problem?” Nate had pulled himself from the engine and stood ramrod straight. He glared at Stan without moving.

  Joanne turned her back on Stan and went over to stand by Nate. “No. No problem at all,” she told him. He stared at her for a few seconds, as if he didn’t believe her, before dropping his gaze. “So, do you know what’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  “And?”

  “See this?” He pointed to something in the engine compartment. Joanne couldn’t identify what exactly he was pointing to among the mess of wires, hoses, and metal pieces. She just nodded. “It’s broken.” He eyed her again. “The problem is that that couldn’t have happened on its own.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying someone did it on purpose.”

  He didn’t need to add anything else. Joanne turned back to face Stan, who was still waiting a few feet away. “Stanley?” she questioned. She couldn’t believe he would do such a thing. Surely not. What purpose would he have for doing it?

  Stan’s glare shifted from Joanne to Nate and back again, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “JoJo, I just wanted to talk. You keep running away.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and reached out to her. “We can work on this. On us.”

  Joanne was stunned. She couldn’t believe Stan would do something like this. It felt as if another layer of his deception had been peeled away, and all she could see was the bastard he really was.

  “It was an accident,” Stan called. “I was just going to loosen some wires, but they broke when I tried to move them. I swear.”

  “Oh my God,” Joanne said, her voice high in disbelief. Without even thinking, she turned and buried her face on Nate’s shoulder.

  Nate was stunned for a moment at the sudden contact. Then his hands came up to rest on Joanne’s back. He gave Stan a glare that would kill lesser men. He had no idea what the guy had done to hurt Joanne in the first place, and he didn’t understand how anyone would want to.

  “Hey,” Stan yelled, stepping towards them. “Get your hands off her.”

  Before Nate could say anything, Joanne twisted out of his arms and landed a punch on Stan’s nose.

  “Ouch,
” she squeaked, cradling her hand. Stan held his nose, and both had looks of complete and utter shock on their faces. Nate couldn’t help it, he laughed, a deep belly laugh that carried over the parking lot in the night air. He would never have expected Joanne to hit anyone; her personality was too sweet and bubbly. He guessed, by the look on her face, that she didn’t expect to do it either.

  Turning back to the car, Nate released the hood arm and started to lower the hood.

  “Isn’t there anything you can do?” she asked him.

  “Not here. I need replacement parts. I can fix it for you tomorrow. Or I can take your car to the dealership and let them do it on Monday, but you’d be without a car tomorrow.”

  She shook her head. “No, I need my car. Tomorrow’s the wedding. I hate to ask, but would you mind fixing it?” She gave him a pleading look.

  He gave her a smile. “Anything for a damsel in distress.”

  Her face sagged in relief. “Thank you,” she said. She started to walk away but whirled back around to face him when she saw Stan leaning against his Mercedes with his arms crossed waiting for her. “Would you mind giving me a ride home too?” This time her words were sharp and crisp.

  Nate tipped an invisible hat to her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Hearing the last part of their conversation, Stan jumped to attention. “JoJo, you can’t let some stranger take you home.” He opened the passenger door of his car and gestured inside. “Please. I promise to be a complete gentleman.”

  “You’ve already shown your promises are just hot air,” she tossed over her shoulder. Joanne opened the passenger door to the tow truck cab and awkwardly hoisted herself in, not caring if her skirt and heels caused her to flash the two men. She slammed the door and sat staring straight ahead, waiting for Nate to get her car.

  Stan took two quick steps toward the truck but pulled up short when Nate took a stand between him and the truck. Nate didn’t have to say anything; he just stood there, staring Stan down.

  “This is not over,” Stan threatened. And with that, he stalked to his Mercedes and tore out of the parking lot.

  Nate made short work of getting Joanne’s car loaded. When he finished, he climbed into his seat and took off. Joanne sat silently, her arms crossed, staring out the window. She could feel his glances as they headed to his workplace. She didn’t know what to say to him. She was horrified at Stan’s behavior, embarrassed about her own bout of violence, and felt guilty that she’d asked so much of someone she’d known less than twenty-four hours.

  They drove through an industrial park until they came to a fenced-in lot fronted by a single-story building and a small gravel area to one side. Nate pulled the truck into the gravel lot and parked beside the building. He jumped out of the truck. Joanne slowly opened the passenger door, but before she could put a foot on the running board, Nate was at her door. He helped her out and steadied her on the shifting gravel. Why in the world did I wear heels again tonight? She was tall enough without the heels, and she seemed to find trouble every time she wore them.

  “Come on,” he said, not letting go of her hand. “I’ll take you home.”

  “Don’t you need to do something with my car?”

  “It’ll be fine right there. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  Reluctantly, Joanne let him pull her into a shadowy corner where a dumpster sat beside the building. There, hidden in the darkness, was a motorcycle. Joanne stood stock still as Nate pulled out a helmet and held it out her. She didn’t take it.

  “You expect me to get on that?”

  “Sure.”

  “But…” She gestured to her outfit, namely to her dress and heels.

  Nate stepped in front of her and lifted the helmet onto her head, buckling the strap under her chin. “It’s dark; you’ll be fine. Just…” he let another grin slide across his face as he looked her up and down, “stay close.” He pulled her purse from her grasp and placed it safely inside a compartment on the side of the bike.

  He straddled the bike and started it up, and held out a hand to her to help her on. Joanne didn’t move. There was no way she could get on that motorcycle with him. Not pressed up against him like she would be. Her arms around him. No. She couldn’t. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. She wanted to. She wanted to feel his muscles under her hands. She wanted to press her breasts against his back. She wanted to let her legs cradle him.

  A tiny gasp brought her back to the present, and she realized it had been from her. She was turned on by the thought of riding with him. He was still waiting there, holding out his hand for her. Tossing all her objections aside, she took his hand and let him help her onto the seat behind him. When he let go of her hand, she placed both of hers lightly on the sides of his waist.

  “Not close enough, sweetheart,” he yelled at her over the rumble of the engine. He grabbed both her hands and wrapped them around him, pulling her forward against his back as he did so.

  Joanne let out a little squeak of surprise at her sudden movement. Before she could recover, Nate had them moving. Her hands gripped his shirt, and she hid her face in his back. She’d never ridden a motorcycle before, and the thought of nothing being between her and the speeding asphalt was terrifying. She closed her eyes to block out the blurred scenes.

  But closing her eyes only heightened her other senses. Like touch. She felt each shift of Nate’s body between her thighs. His heat seeped into her. The wind stroked her skin in a sensual caress. She opened her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat as they whipped around a corner.

  She laughed at her racing heart once they straightened. Lifting her head, she dared to peek over Nate’s shoulder. “This is fun,” she shouted to him.

  He reached a hand back and patted her leg, now bared from the wind. And her thoughts turned back to just the two of them, touching from thigh to neck. Slowly, as if not of her own accord, her hands caressed his chest, learning the feel of his muscles. Her heartbeat sped up again, only this time it wasn’t from the ride.

  Before her thoughts could go any farther, he pulled into her driveway and cut the engine. They both sat still for a minute, neither ready for the ride to end. Finally, Nate got off the bike. Joanne tried to push her skirt down a little when she saw his eyes drift to her spread thighs. Heat spread across her skin at the thought of her exposed body.

  Without a word, Nate helped her off the bike. She stood quietly while he unfastened the helmet strap and slipped it off her head. “Thank you,” she told him simply. On a whim, she took his jaw in her hands and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

  It was just a brief touch. It was supposed to be a thank you. But a simple spark lit from her lips and traveled to her toes. What am I feeling? Is this what a rebound is like? She’d never had a fling before. She stood there and searched his eyes.

  Nate’s hands were on her arms. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, his voice rough.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want something more than a ride home.”

  Joanne dropped her gaze and her hands as she stepped back. He was right, she wasn’t ready for this. She wanted him. Of course she did. But she had too much going on right now to deal with the repercussions of a one-night stand.

  “Goodnight,” she told him, and she walked to the house without looking back.

  Nate stood there until she was locked safely in the house before revving his bike and rushing out into the night.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Joanne directed Ash onto the correct street and pointed out the Bubba’s Towing building. The hood of Joanne’s grandmother’s Cadillac was up, and when they pulled in, Nate peered around it.

  Joanne jumped out of Ash’s car and hurried to him. “I forgot my bridesmaid dress in the trunk last night!” She shook her head consternation. “Can you open it?”

  Reaching for the keys, he hit the trunk button. She hurried to the back end and found Ash waiting.

  “He’s cute!” Ash whispered to her.r />
  “Yeah.” She peeked around the trunk at him. “He is, isn’t he?”

  “Hell yeah.” Ash nudged Joanne out of the way. “I’ll get this stuff. You go talk to him.”

  “What? What am I supposed to talk to him about? We’re running behind anyway. We need to go.”

  Ash shook her head. “There’s always time for true love.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Or even a little nooky.” When Joanne just stood there, Ash pushed her around the side of the car. “Go!” she hissed.

  Stumbling a little, Joanne approached Nate, who was back under the hood. “Um. How long do you think it will take?” she asked him.

  Nate glanced at her before turning his attention back to the engine. “A couple hours, I’d guess.”

  “That long?”

  The emotion in her voice made him look at her again. She twisted her hands together in distress. Nate straightened and gave her his full attention. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he somehow felt he should do something about it. “Yeah, sorry. I just started on it. It’s a Sunday, remember? I had to wait until the stores opened this morning to get your parts. Is something wrong?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” Joanne chewed on a lip. She desperately wanted her car back, especially after what Stan had pulled last night. If she didn’t have her car, she’d have to find another ride home after the wedding, and damned if she was going to accept a ride from Stan. “I just don’t have a way home from the wedding tonight. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to find a ride. It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

  “I’m sorry—” Nate started to say.

  Just then, Ash came around the car and interrupted them. “I’ve got an idea! Why don’t you come to the wedding? Bring the car there. It’ll be perfect!” Ash clapped her hands together. “You can be Joanne’s date. She doesn’t have one since she and Stan broke up.”

  Nate held up his grease-stained hands. “Oh no. I won’t crash your wedding.”

  At the same time, Joanne said, “Ash, I don’t need a date. I’ll be fine.”

  Ash pouted and crossed her arms. She turned to Joanne. “It’s my wedding, and you’re my maid of honor. That means you’re supposed to make today perfect for me. And today won’t be perfect unless everyone important to me has a date.”