Lethal Protector
Page 22
“’59 Morris.”
British car. Chase hadn’t been that far off after all. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”
She turned away and started for the door, the full skirt of the dress swaying with each step. Bowie followed, unable to tear his eyes from her hips and the tantalizing indent of her waist emphasized by the shiny red belt around it. Damn, those curves should be illegal.
He beat her to the door by a second and held it open for her. She was pretty tall. In her heels she was almost at eye level with him, and he was six-two.
“Thank you,” she murmured and stepped through, giving him a whiff of delicious, sweet-tart citrus on the way past.
He darted a glance back at his brother, who grinned at him, and fought a smile. Wasn’t every day a woman like that walked into his garage.
The noon heat hit him as soon as he stepped outside, and found the lady standing beside a fire engine-red Morris Minor Traveller. “A Woody,” he murmured, unable to hold back a smile. The quintessential surfer vehicle, its back half framed by iconic wood accents.
She nodded and gave him a pleased smile. “Yes, this is Priscilla.” She ran a hand over the curve of the hood, her glossy nails almost a perfect match for the paint color as her fingers caressed it. Bowie wouldn’t mind having her stroke him like that.
“Is something wrong with her?” he asked.
“Apart from being old? I’m not sure, I’ve only had her a couple days. She makes a strange sound when I accelerate. I wanted to get her checked out and fixed up, just to be on the safe side.” She ran her hand over the edge of the roof, the motion elegant and sensual at the same time. “She’s sentimental to me.”
“She’s a beauty.” Not nearly as gorgeous as her owner, but still. “Pop the hood for me.”
She opened the driver’s door and leaned over to pop the latch, giving him a view of the muscles in her bare calves in those sexy heels, the nip of her waist and the flare of her skirt giving him an instant visual of what she’d look like underneath it. Full, lush curves a man could explore for hours. Curves he could wrap his hands around and hold onto while he eased into her from behind.
The thought came unbidden, startling him. He hadn’t thought those kinds of things about someone he’d just met in forever.
Behind him, Chase cleared his throat. Bowie snapped to attention and walked around to the driver’s side door as the woman straightened. He slid into the caramel-colored seat, once again getting a whiff of her clean, tart scent. Yum. “Let’s start her up and see what the old girl tells us.”
He fired up the engine. The starter took a few seconds to catch. There was a definite lag, and when he gave it gas, the high-pitched squeal indicated a potential problem with the belts.
After giving a few other things a cursory check, he turned off the ignition and looked up at the woman. She stood next to Chase, completely ignoring his brother as she cupped her elbows, her full attention on Bowie.
He felt the impact of that pale green gaze all the way to his center. “I’d say she definitely needs a little TLC.”
“I know you’ve barely looked at her, but can you give me a ballpark estimate of cost, just so I have an idea of what I’m looking at?”
He named a price range. “I’ve got time to look at her early tomorrow afternoon, if that works.”
“That’s perfect.” With that she turned and headed straight back inside. Chase lunged over to grab the door for her. Bowie managed to beat him through it, entering right behind the woman, and came to stand at the desk with her while she booked the appointment.
“What’s your name?” Barb asked her with a bright smile.
“Aspen Savich.”
Aspen. A name as unique and sexy as she was.
Barb typed in her name and cell number, then looked at Bowie. “Do you figure you’ll have it ready by closing tomorrow night?”
“Barring any unforeseen problems or special parts I need to order in, yeah.” He turned back to Aspen, caught off guard by the strange tug deep in his gut when their gazes connected. He’d forgotten what that felt like. “But if I come across a problem I’ll call to check with you before doing anything. Right now I’m just thinking a basic tune-up and checking the belts, nothing too bad.”
She nodded. “Sounds good. Thanks very much.”
“No problem.” He held out his hand. “I’m Bowie, by the way.”
She gave him a mysterious smile, those pale green eyes holding a trace of amusement as she accepted his hand. “I know,” she murmured.
The moment their palms touched, he felt that tug deep inside him again. Her skin was soft and warm.
Withdrawing her hand, she glanced at the three of them. “Thanks a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Those eyes shifted to him again, and this time there was no mistaking the leap of attraction inside him. He didn’t like it. “Unless I hear from you sooner.”
With those enigmatic parting words, she slid a pair of oversized dark sunglasses on and walked out. Bowie stared at the closed door for a long moment, her scent still lingering faintly in the air. The sound of the Morris starting shook him out of his stupor and he spun around to head back to the shop.
Chase was right behind him. “Forget what I asked about the business earlier. Based on what I just saw, I’d say business is real good.” He chuckled, eyes twinkling.
Bowie grunted and gave him a sharp look, annoyed at himself. For gawking like an idiot, but more for his weird reaction to her. He hadn’t reacted to anyone like that since—
Simultaneous blades of guilt and pain sliced through him. He locked the door to the past shut in his mind, and blocked any more thoughts of Aspen Savich. She was just another client. “Stop yammerin’ and get your lazy ass back to work,” he grumbled. “This ain’t Hollywood—we gotta actually work for our money around here.”
The amused, knowing look Chase shot him didn’t help settle Bowie’s unease. He didn’t want to react to Aspen like that, or any other woman.
That part of him should have died years ago, with the woman he’d planned to spend the rest of his life with.
*End Excerpt*
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kaylea Cross writes edge-of-your-seat military romantic suspense. Her work has won many awards, including the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence, and has been nominated multiple times for the National Readers’ Choice Awards. A Registered Massage Therapist by trade, Kaylea is also an avid gardener, artist, Civil War buff, Special Ops aficionado, belly dance enthusiast and former nationally-carded softball pitcher. She lives in Vancouver, BC with her husband and family.
You can visit Kaylea at www.kayleacross.com. If you would like to be notified of future releases, please join her newsletter.
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COMPLETE BOOKLIST
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Kill Devil Hills Series
Undercurrent
Submerged
Rifle Creek Series
Lethal Edge
Lethal Temptation
Lethal Protector
Vengeance Series
Stealing Vengeance
Covert Vengeance
Explosive Vengeance
Toxic Vengeance
Beautiful Vengeance
Crimson Point Series
Fractured Honor
Buried Lies
Shattered Vows
Rocky Ground
Broken Bonds
DEA FAST Series
Falling Fast
Fast Kill
Stand Fast
Strike Fast
Fast Fury
Fast Justice
Fast Vengeance
Colebrook Siblings Trilogy
Brody’s Vow
Wyatt’s Stand
Easton’s Claim
Hostage Rescue Team Series
Marked
Targeted
Hunted
Disavowed
Avenged<
br />
Exposed
Seized
Wanted
Betrayed
Reclaimed
Shattered
Guarded
Titanium Security Series
Ignited
Singed
Burned
Extinguished
Rekindled
Blindsided: A Titanium Christmas novella
Bagram Special Ops Series
Deadly Descent
Tactical Strike
Lethal Pursuit
Danger Close
Collateral Damage
Never Surrender (a MacKenzie Family novella)
Suspense Series
Out of Her League
Cover of Darkness
No Turning Back
Relentless
Absolution
Silent Night, Deadly Night
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
Empowered Series
Darkest Caress
HISTORICAL ROMANCE
The Vacant Chair
EROTIC ROMANCE (writing as Callie Croix)
Deacon’s Touch
Dillon’s Claim
No Holds Barred
Touch Me
Let Me In
Covert Seduction