“Where’s Mrs. Henry?” Sass asked slowly.
Millie glanced toward the empty bed and a sad smile spread slowly across her face. She fluttered her hand up and toward the window. “The dear lady’s moved on.”
“Oh,” Sass said, her heart heavy. “I’m sorry.”
Millie shrugged and said, “Thanks.” Then she sighed. “But, she was a snorer. Lovely lady, but phew, sounded like a locomotive. I’m sleeping better already.”
Sass wasn’t fooled. “You’re going to miss her.”
Millie turned her chair slowly around and wheeled to a bookshelf on the other side of the room. She reached out and plucked a box off the shelf. “You know who I miss? Your grandmother.”
She missed her grandmother, too. That’s how she’d first become reacquainted with Millicent Delacroix, when her grandmother shared a room with her. After her grandma died, Sass just kept coming back.
Millie’s watery blue eyes studied her as she turned the chair around and wheeled back to Sass’s side. She stopped the chair and pointed to the book in Sass’s hand. “Did you finish it?”
“Shakespeare? You didn’t seriously think I’d read it, did you?”
“Yes, I did.”
Sass shook her head. “I didn’t understand a single word.”
“Not a word?” Millie tsked and took the book from her. With a crooked finger she ran it down the page and then read, “Okay, let’s see, ‘dead’…you do know that word, don’t you? And here is another I’m sure you know, ‘drunk’? ‘Dog’? ‘Fool’?”
Sass rolled her eyes. “Of course I know those words.”
“Oh,” Millie continued, “how about, ‘asses’? I think that’s a word you young folk use all the time.”
“It doesn’t say ‘asses,’” Sass said as she leaned closer to get a look at the book.
“Sure it does, right there.” Millie pointed.
“They’re probably referring to donkeys.”
“Actually, Shakespeare often used double entendre. Here the word means donkey and the rump, the derriere, the behind…”
“Okay, okay,” Sass conceded. “Sheesh, I was being figurative, for God’s sake.”
Millie closed the book and beamed at Sass. “Now you’re speaking my language. Here.” She passed the book back to Sass and underneath it was a videocassette.
“What’s this?”
“A movie. You still have a VCR, don’t you?”
Sass groaned. “Unfortunately, yes. But watching the thing acted out isn’t going to help. I’m still not going to understand it. Mill, you’re not my English teacher anymore. You have to give up on this obsession. I will never like Shakespeare.”
“This is a modern film. It’s not in Shakespearean language.”
Sass rolled her eyes again and glanced at the title, Ten Things I Hate About You.
“Have you seen it?”
“No.”
“Good. I think you’ll like it. I prefer the original but then I’m old.”
“You’re not old,” Sass said as she leaned over to kiss Millie on the cheek. “You’re ancient.”
Millie pinched her cheek, hard, but her sparkling eyes told her she enjoyed their banter as much as she did.
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s on your mind?”
Sass shook her head. “Another day.”
…
By the time Sass got back to Greenview, she found she couldn’t avoid the shop any longer. She had to do something about the wreck she’d created and better to do that today while the shop was closed than tomorrow in front of everyone else. So, she parked at the back, changed into her coveralls and boots. After grabbing the work order Carlos had started, she went into the bay where the Mustang was sitting and stared in awe at her handiwork.
Holy hell. It was bad. If she hadn’t have done it herself, she would have thought whoever inflicted this kind of damage must have been hopped up on drugs. Or crazy.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she figured the only thing to do was to get busy rectifying the situation. As expected, there were a bunch of things Carlos had missed and she began adding to the list of parts as she circled the car.
When that was done, she got started on cleaning the ’57 Chevy Pro Streeter shell that sat in the back junkyard. Buck had been asking her to clean it for ages, but all her spare time had been spent on the ’Vette. She wanted to surprise Buck with the Chevy when he got back from his trip. Even though it was hot, filthy work sanding away the dirt and grime of decades, it was exactly what she needed to take her mind off not only the Mustang, but its too-handsome owner with the muscled arms and talented lips.
By the time she made it home, she was hot, dirty, and starving. She rectified the first two with a long shower, but the black hole in the fridge didn’t offer much to satisfy her hunger. She considered ordering Chinese and staying home and reading her new Hot Rod magazine, but that option made her feel twitchy. Tapping her fingers against the counter, Sass considered her choices but her mind continued to stray back to a twisted wreck of a car and a pair of sky-blue eyes.
She needed to get out of the house, preferably with someone who could distract her from her problems. She grabbed the phone and dialed her friend Libby.
“Sass?”
“Hey, Lib. What’re you doing tonight?”
“Me? Nothing. Why? Do you want to come over? We could watch a movie or something.”
Sass thought about the video Millie had given her, but decided against it. She wasn’t in the mood. “I was thinking more along the lines of a beer and a game of pool at the Pit.”
“The Pit?” Libby’s voice jumped an octave. “Yeah, I s’pose that’d be okay. I’m not a very good pool player.”
“I know.” Sass sighed. Not for the first time, she wondered at her friendship with Libby. They were so different. Libby liked fashion, cooking, and romance novels. Sass liked…cars. But Libby’s mom had taken care of Sass after her mom died and the two of them had been inseparable, though they fought almost as much as they got along.
“I just feel like getting out of the house because…” Sass paused. Damn. She’d almost told Libby about Carlos. Thank God she’d stopped herself in time. No one could know. Not even Libby.
“Because?”
“I’m starving, and there’s nothing but canned beans and condiments here.”
“You sure you don’t want to come here? I can make you something.”
No. The Pit would be perfect. Carlos would be there and she could pretend like there was nothing going on between the two of them. “Nah. I’m in the mood for a steak sandwich.”
“Okay, then. Give me an hour and I’ll—”
“Libby, I’ll be by your house to pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Libby squeaked. “I can’t be—”
“Lib, I’m starving and it’s the Pit we’re talking about. Just put some clothes on and I’ll be there in fifteen.”
…
With a beer in front of him and the crooning of Alan Jackson in the background, Jordan pretended to watch the Patriots and Jets game on the big screen. But he was really watching the crowd of locals in the Snake Pit. For a Monday night, the place seemed pretty busy. Probably because there was nothing else to do in this one-horse town. He scratched the back of his neck and took a long drink from his beer bottle. His gaze swept the room as he searched for…
Damn. She was just some crazy slip of a girl. Gorgeous, lithe, sassy, but undoubtedly the strangest woman he’d ever met. He had to stop thinking about her. Jordan’s roving gaze stopped when it set on a guy with a dark ponytail, a goatee, and tattoos running up and down his strong forearms. Those forearms just happened to be wrapped around a buxom brunette whose neck he nuzzled.
Rodriguez. He was the reason Jordan had come to Greenview in the first place, and Jordan hoped he might be the answer to his problems. The first time he’d seen him was in June at the Classic Muscle Car Show in Denver. When he read the in
formation in the program on Rodriguez’s Mustang and discovered his place of employment, an idea formed. Which brought him to this point, drinking beer in this backwoods tavern with country music blaring and all his carefully laid plans gone straight out the window, but possibly replaced by something even better.
It was time to improvise. With beer in hand, Jordan ambled over to the pool tables in the far corner of the bar and put his quarters on the edge, claiming the next game. The man had finally let go of his squeeze and was walking around the table, about to take his next shot, when his eyes met Jordan’s.
“Hey, it’s Mr. Mustang.” He grinned. “What brings you to the Pit? Looking for the asshole that smashed your wheels?”
“Yeah. That and a beer.”
Rodriguez chalked his cue, bent down, lined up his shot, and sank the three ball in the corner pocket, setting himself up for the five in the other corner. He made that shot and then tried to bank the six into the side but missed. The brunette came up and draped her arms around him from behind but her eyes were assessing Jordan while a slow smile formed on her pouty lips.
“Who’s your friend?” she purred into his ear, loud enough for Jordan to hear.
“This is the dude I was telling you about, remember? It’s Jordan, right?”
“Yeah. And you’re Rodriguez?”
“Carlos. And this is Tori.”
Jordan shook her hand, noting the way her long fingernails scraped against the inside of his wrist as if trying to convey some unspoken message. He shivered.
“You want to join us?”
“Why not.”
Jordan watched as Carlos cleaned up against the kid he was playing—who looked like he’d just started shaving yesterday. Then he put in his change and racked the balls. While Carlos broke, Tori sidled up to him and said, “So, how long you in town for?”
“Until my car is done.”
“Is that so? What are you going to do while you’re here?”
Jordan kept his eyes focused on the game. “Rest, relax. This was supposed to be my vacation.”
“Really? You came here for a vacation?” She laughed.
Jordan’s smile faltered. Was he that transparent? “I was on my way to Lincoln, Nebraska. Classic car show. Now I’m stuck here.”
“Hmm.” She took a step closer. “That’s too bad.” Her tone told him she thought it was anything but ‘too bad.’
“I’m an expert on rest and relaxation. You want me to show you around, I’d be happy to.”
“Carlos probably wouldn’t appreciate that too much,” Jordan said, watching the man sink a ball in the side pocket.
She glanced back at Carlos who was totally focused on his next shot, and whispered, “Oh. We’re not exclusive. We hang out when it’s convenient.”
“Good to know.” Jordan forced a smile and said some equivalent to “thanks but no thanks.”
Carlos missed his next shot—thank God—giving Jordan the opportunity to walk away from Tori. He’d met women like her before, attractive and sexually forward. They didn’t yank his chain. Now a woman with an adorably crooked tooth and flashing hazel eyes, on the other hand…Jordan shook his head.
Give it a rest, Carlyle.
He called his shot, ten in the corner pocket, and sank it, only to deliberately miss his next one. While Carlos took his turn, Jordan went to the bar to grab beers for the table. Anything to avoid having to make small talk with Tori.
He got back just in time to see Carlos miss his shot and, as luck would have it, Tori wandered off, presumably in the direction of the ladies’ room.
As Jordan chalked the end of his cue he intended to ask Carlos about his car, but instead, some other question tumbled out. “So, what’s the story on that little dark-haired receptionist at the shop?”
“Who? Alice?”
Jordan shot and missed. Again, on purpose. “I think she said her name was Sass.”
The expression on Carlos’s face changed. His eyes narrowed. “Sass?” He tugged on his goatee. “Yeah, we work together. She’s…something, that one.”
“What do you mean?”
Carlos cleared his throat. “We hooked up a couple of times, casual-like.” He took his shot, missed, and then cursed under his breath. After guzzling half the bottle he set it down hard and said, “Even when it’s casual, you know how emotional chicks get after you’ve seen them naked.”
“Yeah,” Jordan said, thinking about Lecia, his ex. She hadn’t been emotional so much as she’d been dramatic. Everything was a big catastrophe in her world. And it usually ended up being Jordan’s fault. It’d been six months since he’d called it quits, but she’d stalked him for three months afterward, texting, Facebooking, calling in the middle of the night. Thank God that was over with. “Sass some kind of stalker?” Jordan asked.
“Nah. Just messed up. Plus, there’s her dad.”
Of course someone like Sass would have some crazed father. Probably of the gun-toting, you-touch-my-little-girl-and-I’ll-blow-you-into-next-week variety. Thank God he’d kept his hands to himself. Sort of. “Protective is he?”
“Protective? Shit, man. He’s my boss. I’d be an idiot to piss off Buck.”
“Buck Hogan!” The words exploded out of Jordan’s mouth before he could stop them. Sass was Buck Hogan’s daughter?
“You know him?”
Jordan spoke quickly to recover from his blunder. “Sure, I’ve heard of him. Anyone into muscle cars has heard of Buck Hogan.”
“Right.” Carlos shot and sunk the two ball. He kept playing even though he didn’t call the extra bank. “Anyway, Sass was great in the sack…”
Jordan chose to focus on the lyrics of the Miranda Lambert song that blared out of the speaker system rather than listen to Carlos tout his sexual exploits. His fingers curled tightly around the beer bottle as he drank, fighting the urge to punch him so he’d shut up.
Why? Over some girl? Buck Hogan’s daughter? Are you insane?
All he’d done was kiss her. Though, if fantasies counted, he’d done more than that. Much more.
Before he got himself all wrapped up in thinking about her again, he changed the subject back to cars. “Buck had some cars in the rally in Denver last June, didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Carlos puffed out his chest. “Mine was one of them.”
“Was that your ’Stang?”
“Damn straight.”
“You know, after I saw it, I knew I had to have one.”
“No shit?”
Jordan watched as Carlos put the eight ball away with authority. “So, did you do the restorations yourself?”
“Of course,” Carlos said, voice smug.
“I hope you’re the one who’s gonna put mine back together.”
Carlos grinned and punched him in the shoulder. “Oh yeah. I’ll fix her up, better than she was before.”
Perfect. That was precisely what Jordan wanted to hear. He was pretty damn sure that Carlos was the man for the job he wanted. Just then Tori returned but the earlier flirtatiousness was gone completely. She moved closer to Carlos with her gaze fixed on something behind Jordan’s back.
Jordan turned to see the very woman they’d just been discussing. Sass approached, carrying a beer and a plate of fries. As she passed their table, her gaze met his and then she quickly looked away. A tall, willowy redhead followed close on Sass’s heels. He realized he hadn’t been the only one to notice their presence. Carlos watched them, too, with gaze narrowed and arms crossed. Tori, for all her claims of no commitment, sure was playing the possessive girlfriend, draping herself all over Carlos.
Interesting.
He supposed this was what life was like in a small town. Everyone knew everyone. And, probably had some kind of history. Whatever the history here, he wasn’t going to be around long enough to get involved.
Only one problem. He was having a hard time tearing his gaze away from a set of narrow hips and the way they switched in a pair of well-worn jeans. In his mind’s eye, he saw the
tattoo hiding beneath those clothes, the swirls of red and yellow. The artistry.
He finally raised his eyes just in time to catch a flash of Sass’s perplexed glance over her shoulder. His arousal was immediate.
Not good.
“You want to play another game?” Carlos asked.
Jordan forced himself to stop staring. “Sure, one more.”
Chapter Five
Sass dove into her fries. She’d known Carlos would be there. He spent pretty much every night at the Pit. She, on the other hand, had hardly set foot inside the bar in the last year, aside from Saturday night, of course. She’d been working so many late nights at the shop—finishing up the Corvette and Buck’s Dodge Charger before that—she didn’t have time for socializing. If she’d wanted to see Carlos, she usually met up with him later. The fact that Carlos was here tonight…with Tori, well that rattled Sass. But damn if she was going to let him or anyone else know how much.
Strangely, it was the big blond dude Carlos was playing pool with who did more than rattle her. The minute their eyes met, her heart took a nosedive. What the hell was that about? Probably an equal measure of guilt and shame all rolled into one.
She must have glanced one too many times at the pool tables because Libby noticed and craned her head to see what had captured Sass’s attention.
“Is that Carlos over there? He’s kind of cute, isn’t he?”
Sass took a swig of beer to keep from gagging. Once she had herself under control she said, “Carlos? He’s okay, I guess.”
“Some guys can pull off tats . He’d be one. I think it’s the muscles.”
Oh God. Of all the people Libby had to focus on in the bar, why the hell did she have to choose Carlos? Karma sure was a bitch.
Sass shoved her plate toward her friend. “Want some?”
“Sure.” Libby took a fry but unfortunately went back to watching the pool players. “So how come nothing’s ever happened between the two of you?”
“Carlos? Are you kidding me?”
“Yeah. Seems to me he fits your criteria.”
“What criteria?”
Libby rolled her eyes. “You know, he likes cars. You like cars. He’s a friend. You work with him so you don’t have to have any sleepovers because you’ll see him the next morning at the shop.”
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