Lean Mean Loving Machine

by Sandra Chastain

  As if he understood her confusion, Gavin searched for a way to change the focus of the moment. “Don’t you ever get lonely out here?”

  “No, not so far. There are the dogs, and Lonnie, and—friends.”

  “Men friends?”

  “Sometimes, yes. They watch the ball games and horror movies with me.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to explain, but she did.

  Ah yes, he thought, those horror movies. He reached out in the darkness, touched her face, and felt her flinch. “Have I spooked you?”

  He hadn’t, until his fingertips rimmed her ear and brushed a strand of hair behind it, then slipped to the back of her neck and pulled her gently into the hollow of his arm.

  “Don’t. I don’t want you to touch me, not anymore, not until I find out what you’re really asking of me.”

  “I fear that what I’m asking now and what I started out asking are vastly different.”

  “Start with what you had in mind when you came to the garage—the truth.”

  He didn’t want to talk about that, and yet it was too important to ignore. Still, he sensed that once she found out what he really had in mind, what they were feeling would be reduced to money, and money was no longer the most important thing in his world. “Will you let me come in?”

  She pulled away from his touch and immediately regretted her action. Suddenly the night was cool and alien. She’d never missed a man’s touch before. The heat, the sensation seemed to sizzle and die like a fire doused with water. She’d lost more than a bet. She’d lost her common sense too. And with it had gone her sense of security. She felt as if she were heading in a direction she wasn’t sure she wanted to go in, but she was powerless to stop herself.

  These things didn’t happen in real life, only in Ingrid Bergman movies, where people met in some mysterious, foreign place and were instantly linked for all times. One kiss and they were connected. Except Gavin hadn’t kissed her. Only their gazes had met and locked. Only his touch had made heated images on her skin.

  “All right, Magadan,” she said with a sigh, “but you can’t stay.”

  He wasn’t Gavin anymore. But he wasn’t sure why the change bothered him. He wasn’t good with long-term involvements. His relationships tended to be intense, heated, and short. But he didn’t want to frighten Stacy. He reached down to find an approach he thought might make her feel more comfortable.

  “We’re both gamblers, Stacy. What do you say we make a little wager on that?”

  She opened the door and slid out, pulling forward the seat so that the dogs could dash ahead. A warning bark from each of them, and they disappeared into the darkness.

  “I’ve given up betting,” she said softly as she reached above the door frame to locate the key.

  He took it from her, his fingertips brushing hers, then opened the door and followed her inside. “So, we’ll play a quick game of Scrabble. Winner makes the choice.”

  “I don’t have a Scrabble game.”

  “And I don’t really want to play.” Gavin took his time. He didn’t make any sudden moves. Stacy had turned on the kitchen light and was leaning against the counter, wide-eyed and wary, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “First we talk business. Then I’m going to kiss you.”

  “You’re what?”

  “Then later, I’m going to buy your business, Stacy Lanham.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need it.” It, the business, was what he implied. What he really meant was the kiss and you. Slowly he moved closer, taking her arms in his hands.

  “Gavin, somebody gave you a bad tip if they told you the garage was worth anything. I wish it was. But it isn’t.”

  “Not as it stands, but in a year your garage will be the entrance to the Magadan Classic Automotive Restoration Center—Magadan Classics, for short.”

  “No it won’t. The garage is all I have left, and I have no interest in selling it.”

  “But I’m willing to give you a good price, more than it’s worth.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a minute. But, no.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s mine. And I don’t have anything else. What would I do?”

  “The answer to your question has to do with my second offer—this.” The honorable part of him knew that he was taking advantage of her vulnerability. She’d never before been with anyone whose very touch melted her. But then, neither had he.

  Gavin knew he ought to pull back, ought to state his case logically so that she’d understand. But his own need was greater than his control, and when he lowered his head, he could see that she wanted him to kiss her. Her lips parted, first in a gasp, then in soft compliance as they met his.

  The air was charged. A low murmur slipped out of her, and he moved one hand from her arm to her cheek, gently steadying her as his tongue teased her mouth, opening it as if he were tasting her.

  He watched her face change. The tension was replaced with a tentative smile, followed by an almost inaudible moan. Instinctively she cocked her head, and he felt a wave of pleasure ripple through her. She was a dream, his secret night dream, the woman who came to him in those moments of insecurity that he’d always managed to mask with brash abandon. As her arms slid around his waist and she moved shyly against him, he felt a great answering longing in himself.

  In Gavin’s arms Stacy could feel the beat of his heart, the slow, steady building of desire that cushioned her fears and then erased them touch by touch. The kiss deepened, pushing them further from reality. It became filled not just with passion but, in some indefinable way, with a promise of tomorrow, and Stacy lost the last of her resolve.

  For all her life she’d waited for this moment. If someone had told her, she would have denied it. But now she knew, and that knowledge spun outward in a web of heat that infused her body with desire and her heart with the sure knowledge that this moment was right.

  A fantasy? Yes, Gavin acknowledged.

  A miracle? Probably, but to Stacy it no longer mattered.

  “Stay,” she whispered. “Stay with me tonight.” She couldn’t look away from him. The connection was overpowering, intoxicating.

  Gavin had one hand on her breast. The other was pressed against her back, holding her in a vice that might have frightened her if she hadn’t been returning his kiss with abandon. Her lips were searching, responding so completely that he had great difficulty holding on to his last shred of reason. He wouldn’t have stopped. He couldn’t have stopped, if it weren’t for a recurring sound in the silence.

  The dogs. They first scratched on the door, then set up a whine that turned into a howl that wiped away the cushion of desire protecting them from the outside world.

  “Your guardians are calling, darling.”

  “Tell them to sit,” she whispered. “Stay. Go away.”

  “I don’t think they hear you.”

  “Ignore them, Gavin.”

  But the howling continued until it couldn’t be ignored by either Gavin or Stacy.

  Finally Gavin pulled away and shook his head slowly. “I think I’d better go, Anastasia Lanham, before I do something that might spoil whatever we have going here.”

  “You know you don’t have to.”

  “I know, and that’s why I have to leave. I think I want to come back again.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to go to a baseball game with you. I want to take you to a parade. I want—you, Stacy, and the only way I’ll get you is to let you go for now.”

  He let her go. Stacy felt herself sway. Like a blade of grass in the wind again, she thought, and shuddered with longing. “Gavin?”

  “Yes?” He took a deep breath. Her beautiful face was flushed. The front of her dress was open, and he could see the rise and fall of the dainty white lace covering her breasts as she breathed.

  “I have a little bet with myself. Satisfy my curiosity.”

  The thought of satisfying her swept his breath away, and it took him a ragged
moment to refocus on her words. “I think—I’d like very much to do that, Stacy. What can I tell you?”

  “What color is it?”

  “Color?” He tried to collect his thoughts, but the only picture in his mind was Stacy in his arms, in his bed.

  “Your underwear? Is it still white, or were you prepared to be vamped?”

  She broke the spell with her smile and her question. She was talking underwear, and he was talking climax. “Prepared? Oh, lady, I’m so prepared that unless I get out of here quick, your dogs may mistake my sweeping you up in my arms for an attack on your person. He turned way, forcing himself to walk to the door.

  He could hear her following. He pushed open the screen door and let the monsters inside. They took their places on either side of Stacy and glared at Gavin as if to say they knew what was in his mind, and they intended to make certain that it didn’t become a reality.

  “You didn’t answer me, Gavin.”

  “And I don’t intend to, Stacy Lanham. That’s a question for another night.”

  He walked across the porch and down the path to the car, feeling the torture of his arousal announcing itself with every step. There were some things a woman didn’t need to know. There were some mistakes a man could make in the name of desire. Some mistakes a man only made once.

  The truth was, if she’d done any investigating, she’d have known that he wasn’t wearing any underwear at all.

  Lonnie couldn’t hold his questions any longer. “So, Anastasia, are you going to tell me what happened? Or are you just going to bounce off the ceiling all morning like some hot-air balloon.

  Stacy wasn’t exactly sure what she’d intended to do this morning. But the only thing she’d managed to do was flip through the bills. They hadn’t seemed important somehow.

  “Did you know that Lucky knew Gavin’s aunt?”

  “Lucky probably knew most of the women in the Southeast and a good portion in the rest of the country as well. What was her name?”

  “Jane. You know, I never learned her last name. But she invested in an ice-skating rink that Lucky was backing.”

  “Oh, yes. I remember. It burned down. Jane, you say?”

  “Yes. Red hair. What I guess you’d call a free spirit.”

  “Yep. I remember. She was the one. He got too close to the fire, and he ran away like a wounded dog. I always wondered if he burned down the rink himself, and if he did, whether it was to escape from his creditors or his feelings.”

  Stacy cut her eyes to her old friend. “What do you mean? How does somebody burn down an ice rink anyway?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. I only know that for a week Lucky acted a lot like you are this morning. He seemed two miles high and with all his faults, Lucky didn’t do drugs. The rink was new, and he stood to make a bundle. Next thing I knew the building was gone, and Lucky left the state. I always thought he got a little singed in the deal, but it was a long time before I figured out it was the woman with the money, not the fire, that got to him. He always intended to hit it big and pay her back, but he never did.”

  Through the years Stacy had been faced with settling many of Lucky’s debts. But this one came as a disturbing surprise. Jane had invested in one of her father’s schemes and lost. And she’d never pursued the return of her money. Ironic? Or was this some kind of delayed plan on her part to recoup her losses. Gavin had said that his coming to Hiram was Aunt Jane’s fault.

  Just as I knew she would be. That’s what Aunt Jane had said when they’d met. The unshakable euphoria that had followed Stacy all morning suddenly vanished and she came crashing back to reality.

  “That explains it, Lonnie. Lucky cheated Gavin’s aunt out of her money, and somehow she found me. I’m part of a plan for revenge. What am I going to do?”

  “What has Aunt Jane got to do with Magadan buying your garage. If they were out to get you, they’d take it. If what he told me is even half true, you’re going to stand to make a pretty profit on this deal.”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  Stacy had started toward the office when her progress was halted by a crashing sound and a blow. The grinding didn’t stop until the perpetrator slammed off the side of the building and into the garage.

  “Oh, my goodness, Jane. I believe you hit something.” Alice’s voice didn’t really seem disturbed as she added, “Gavin’s going to be dreadfully angry. We should have waited until he got back with the Buick.”

  “Then he’d have known we came.”

  “I believe he’s going to know anyhow.”

  Stacy knew that Gavin had been greatly disturbed last night about the dogs riding in his backseat. As she took in the damage to the front fender of his prize antique car, she decided that his earlier fears were futile. What his mother and his aunt had done to his car was indescribable.

  Lonnie gulped and stepped forward. “Are you ladies all right?”

  Alice opened the passenger door and got out. By the time she walked around to the front of the car, Jane had joined her. They studied the damage, glanced at each other, and looked back at Stacy.

  “Well, my dear,” Alice explained. “We tried to figure out a good reason to come to call on you so soon, a reason that wouldn’t anger my son—”

  “Yes. You know he doesn’t like us to muck about in his business,” Jane interrupted.

  “But I don’t think this is exactly what we had in mind. Do you have someplace I could sit down?”

  Stacy brushed off her shock and went forward. With her and Lonnie assisting Alice, they managed to get the woman inside the office.

  “Can I get you a glass of water?” Lonnie asked, lifting a cone of paper cups from atop the file cabinet.

  “Yes, that would be nice,” Alice said faintly, reaching for her monogrammed linen handkerchief.

  “Sure, and pour a shot of this in it.” Jane uncapped a silver flask she carried in her tapestry purse and handed it to Lonnie. “In fact, pour us all a shot.”

  Lonnie filled the cups, added Jane’s stimulant, and swallowed his in one gulp before he turned to Stacy. “I take it these are Gavin’s ladies?”

  “Yes, and I don’t think he’s going to be too pleased with what’s happened. Aunt Jane, why did you come to see me? If it’s about the money, I don’t know what I can do right now. But I’ll find some somewhere.”

  “Money?” Jane raised her eyebrows in question. “What money? I’m afraid I don’t have any. But I’m certain that Gavin can help you. He’s promised to be very generous in his offer for your garage.”

  “Then it’s true?”

  “Of course it’s true. My nephew would never cheat anybody. He’ll pay you a fair price. You can just consider it your dowry and put it away. He’ll support you properly, I promise.”

  “My dowry?”

  “Jane, I think you ought to let Gavin and Stacy work out their own plans. What we came to tell her is that we approve, and that we’re going to move into the loft of our new building so that they can have the house to themselves.”

  Lonnie emptied the flask into his paper cup and took a gulp as he collapsed on a stack of crates near the door. “I hope this makes some kind of sense to you, Stacy. I’ll be doggoned if I understand a word they’re saying.”

  “I’ve got the answer, Alice. Lordy, it’s perfect. Stacy and—what is your name, sir?”

  “Lonnie Short, ma’am.”

  “And Mr. Short will repair the car,” Alice completed the sentence, adding, “That will work perfectly, Jane.”

  “Mrs. Magadan,” Stacy said, “we can’t repair this car.”

  “Why not? This is a garage, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but we only work on trucks.”

  “But the only difference between a truck and a car is one’s big and dirty, and the other isn’t,” Jane observed. “Besides, you don’t look too busy at the moment. We’ll just leave a deposit, and Mr. Short can drive us home.” She took out a bill and handed it to Lonnie.


  Lonnie looked at the money and shook his head. “Damn! This is a hundred-dollar bill.”

  “You’re right. That isn’t enough? Do you have any money, Alice?”

  “Ladies, this is far too much. I have to tell you, the battery on the truck is down, and the only vehicle I have to drive you in is a wrecker. I don’t think a wrecker belongs in your neighborhood.”

  “Nonsense,” Alice corrected. “A wrecker will be great fun. Besides, Jane, didn’t the cards say we were going to take a journey?”

  “You’re right. Shall we, Mr. Short—Lonnie?” Jane offered the bemused Lonnie her arm, and they walked out of the office toward the big red truck with Alice following behind. Alice was beaming again, as if everything had worked out just as she’d planned.

  Stacy watched them get up into the cab. She watched Lonnie back out, pass the crumpled Cadillac, and drive away. She stood there wondering how she was going to get herself out of the explosion she was sure was about to happen.

  Suddenly, as if on cue, the lights flickered and the crumpled fender creaked and sagged to the concrete garage floor. Then the world went silent in the too empty, lifeless garage.

  Stacy decided that she’d been hexed. Some sorcerer or evil witch had put a spell on her and everything around her. She felt as if she were taking part in the Friday cliff-hanger of a soap opera. She was falling over the edge. The rope was breaking, and she was about to drop into the pit of boiling oil. Disaster was heading her way, and there was nothing she could do to avoid the eventual outcome.

  Stacy caught her lucky coin and began to rub it between her fingers. “If you’ve ever been lucky for me,” she pleaded, “be lucky now.”

  The answering screech of brakes in the yard beyond told her that whatever luck she’d had, had just run out.

  Five

  “Mother! Aunt Jane! Where are you?”

  Gavin Magadan strode into the shop, caught sight of his convertible, and stopped dead. He felt like crying, but a man didn’t cry.

  “Oh, no!”

  Stacy swallowed hard. She could see the disbelief on Gavin’s face. She could see him make a valiant attempt to hide it as he scanned the garage in search of his mother. Instead, his gaze found her.