Mustang Sassy

by Daire St. Denis

  When Jordan spoke, his voice was low and quiet. But it didn’t sound comforting, it sounded menacing. “Is that what you think I want from you?”

  “I—”

  He stepped even closer and clasped her arms so that she had to look at him. “Do you seriously put me in the same category as Carlos and Dex?”

  Her mouth fell open. She’d told him about Carlos and Dex? Ah, hell. What else had she said?

  “I just want to talk, Sass.” He stopped to let his eyes slide down the length of her, pausing where the towel was slipping between her breasts. He licked his lips and continued, “As tempting as you may be, what I’d really like to do this morning is talk.”

  “Talk?”

  “Yes. So get some clothes on before I do something nasty.”

  Nasty? Oh! Sass just stared after him as a fluttery something or other tickled her down there. She really was in no condition for sex but the thought of Jordan doing something nasty to her suddenly sounded appealing.

  “Get dressed!” Jordan growled and stormed away.

  Sass glanced down to see her towel pooled about her feet. Oops! She snatched her clothes and hurried to the bathroom. With shaking hands and a throbbing head, Sass pulled on her underwear and jeans and then slipped a T-shirt over her head. She started combing her hair but then gave up.

  She burst out of the bathroom only to find Jordan directly on the other side of the door. He bent down and stole the question from her lips before she had a chance to voice it. His lips were demanding, like he’d been waiting to kiss her for a long, long time—too long. Sass drank from his lips like he was a fountain, dipping her tongue in and out but still unable to quench her thirst. Jordan’s hands were in her hair, on the side of her head, directing her so that he could kiss her harder. He backed her up to the wall and smothered her body with his.

  All of Sass’s aches and pains disappeared. They were gone, only to be replaced by a fierce need. It was a physical, all-consuming necessity that he kiss her like he was. That his tongue sweep her mouth and he nip her lips. As if reading her mind, Jordan moved one hand down between them and then up under her shirt to squeeze her breast. Yes! She needed that, too. Oh, and his mouth. His mouth on her nipple, licking it, biting it. Yes. That was a requirement for her too.

  There was one more thing she needed—fiercely. She fumbled with his fly and sighed in relief when she released him. Then she slid her own jeans down. Headache be damned. She would not be able to get through the day if she did not have Jordan’s big, hard cock inside of her. It was vital that he take her, up against the wall, right now. Kicking one foot free of her jeans, Sass raised her knee so he could feel just how hot and wet she was for him.

  What she did not need was for Jordan to stop and to growl, “Dammit, Sass!” With his hands on either side of her, he pushed away from the wall breathing heavily as she stared at him in horror.

  “Don’t you dare not finish what you started here,” she snapped.

  He took a deep breath, like he wanted to calm himself down. Then he shut his eyes as if he couldn’t look at her. “I want to talk—first. There are things we need to clear up.” He turned away and Sass heard the sound of his fly zipping.

  In frustrated embarrassment, Sass tugged her shirt down and pulled her jeans back on. Then, without moving away from the wall, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Okay, talk.”

  Jordan moved as far away from her as he could and Sass sensed what was coming next. He was going to tell her how much he liked her, how much he wanted her, but that it couldn’t go any further. She could feel his words in her bones, as if she were born knowing what he had to say.

  Holding her arms tight against her chest, she struck as petulant a pose as possible, hoping to convey to Jordan that she didn’t give a damn what he had to say.

  “We need to talk about payment for the car.”

  “Payment?”

  “Yes. I am paying for the car.”

  “No, you’re not. We already agreed.”

  “What? When did we agree that you were going to cover the costs? It makes no sense.”

  Sass stared at him like. Was he loony ? Had he cracked his skull or something?

  Before she could ask, the phone rang, making her jump with the sudden shrillness of it. Sass was glad for the distraction. She pushed away from the wall and grabbed the phone to hear Buck asking her where the hell she was.

  Glancing at the clock radio, she realized she was late to meet Buck and Mary-Lynn for breakfast. She felt both relieved and strangely empty with the realization that she wouldn’t get anything else from Jordan. “I’ve got to go.”

  “What?”

  “I’m late for breakfast.”

  “No. Don’t leave. I need to tell you something and it’s really important.”

  “Not now, I’m already late.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine. When can we talk?”

  Sass shrugged and searched the desk for her key.

  “Looking for this?” Jordan pulled the key card out of his pocket. When Sass went to grab it, he held it higher as if he wanted to make her jump for it.

  “Very mature, Michaels. Give me the key.”

  “Michaels?” Jordan handed her the key with a frown. “Sass, seriously, we need to talk. Can I see you later?”

  Sass shoved the key in her pocket and blew the bangs out of her eyes. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

  “Don’t blow me off.” Jordan grabbed her shoulders, and Sass had an overwhelming urge to slug him or kiss him. She opted for the latter. When she finally came up for air, Jordan stared at her, perplexed. “Dammit. This thing between us is out of control.”

  Sass wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I know.”

  “I’m coming back. Tonight. After work.”

  Sass’s stomach knotted, but it was a good knot. “Suit yourself.”

  …

  When Sass found Buck and Mary-Lynn in the café downstairs, she was moving slowly, thinking slowly and once she ordered some food, eating even slower. Her hangover had returned with a vengeance and her brain was chugging hard to concentrate through the pain on whatever it was Buck and Mary-Lynn were saying.

  What did Jordan need to talk to her about? What had she said to him last night?

  “Looks to me like Sassy’s got a hangover,” Mary-Lynn drawled in that Southern way of hers.

  “Don’t.” Sass’s voice came out sounding soft and husky.

  “Don’t what, darlin’?” Mary-Lynn reached out and placed her bejeweled hand on Sass’s.

  Sass felt rough and unpleasant. “Don’t call me Sassy.”

  But Mary-Lynn was not put off. Not at all. She pooh-poohed Sass and waved to a passing server. “Can we have a large banana milkshake sweetened with honey for our girl here?”

  Our girl? Had the woman just called her Sassy, darlin’, and now, our girl? “Look. I don’t need a milkshake. I just need—”

  “Now, Sass. Listen to Mary-Lynn. She knows what she’s talking about.” Buck laughed. He laughed? For the hundredth time, Sass eyeballed her father but it was as she was seeing him for the first time. “They sure know how to tie one on down South and I’ve never felt better than after one of Mary-Lynn’s ‘morning after’ concoctions.”

  The two of them chuckled together and Mary-Lynn took that delicate hand of hers and placed it on Buck’s wide forearm as if it belonged there. It was so…so…so damned sweet it nearly made her sick. Her stomach churned again but somehow she managed to keep it together. Sass had never seen Buck with a woman before. If he’d had a girlfriend over the years, she’d never known about it. He never talked about anyone, never brought anyone home. For the first time, Sass thought about this. Her had mom died seventeen years ago. Had Buck been alone all this time?

  When the milkshake arrived, she took a sip just to distract herself but soon she was slurping it down for real because the cool drink did soothe her throat and stomach and seemed to revive her. The whole time she drank
she watched Buck and Mary-Lynn through lowered lashes. There was no doubt Buck was different. More vibrant. He sported a perma-grin, something she’d never seen on his face before. Damn. He seemed…happy.

  Sass’s head throbbed anew as she realized how shitty she’d been acting. She was twenty-three, not five. Time to start acting her age. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Sass asked, her throat feeling raw.

  “I thought I’d show Mary-Lynn the sights; she’s never been to Denver before.”

  Mary-Lynn giggled and Sass took a good look at her. The woman had the same glow as Buck. Obviously, she was just as smitten as he was.

  “You’re welcome to join us if you like.”

  Sass began to shake her head, but it hurt too much. “I think I’ll go back to bed,” she whispered. “You two go and have fun.” Even if she wasn’t hungover, she was pretty sure Buck and Mary-Lynn would be better off spending the day alone.

  “The meeting at Carlyle’s is at four.” Buck’s voice changed. He became more serious. “You need to be there.”

  Sass kept her eyes down. Okay, so she could be happy for Buck, but she could also be pissed at him for his decision to sell the shop. She understood his desire to keep his private life private, but the shop was a whole other deal. The fact that he hadn’t even given her a heads-up about wanting to sell made her livid. That he’d been putting out feelers for the last couple of months and already had a few offers drove her nuts. That was something they should have done together. But he’d gone ahead and set up the meeting with Carlyle’s while he was in Florida and he had another meeting with Goodstone’s Restorations out of Boulder tomorrow. However, Buck had made it abundantly clear that Carlyle’s offer was the one he wanted.

  Dammit! The marriage was one thing, but the shop? How could he have kept that from her?

  …

  Where was Carlos? He was supposed to have arrived twenty minutes ago. Jordan sat in his glass office at the front of the shop, nervously waiting for the sight of Carlos’s Mustang to pull into the parking lot. He hated that Carlos was late. He hated that he was nervous. He hated that his father, after bawling him out for taking the car without permission, hadn’t even taken the time to look at it since his return.

  Jordan surveyed the steel and glass shop. It was so different from Hogan’s. Modern, clean, classy. Cold. Of course, most of the modernizations were due to the fire. More than half of the shop had been destroyed by his mistake with the MIG welder. His parents had had to use their savings to restore things. Jordan just prayed the insurance would come through and determine the fire was indeed an accident.

  It was strange how different he felt about the shop now, like the place was foreign to him. Well, depending on how things would go today, his life would change. He was confident that his father would see what he’d done and recognize that Jordan wasn’t a colossal failure. Then maybe he’d look at some of Jordan’s designs. Seriously look at them.

  Carlyle’s Classics, that’s who we are. Nobody wants these things.

  Of course, his father’s words still haunted him from the last time he’d shown his dad his sketches. The lines are too sleek. The look is too modern. Sorry to say, Jordie, but you don’t know what the market wants.

  It all came down to trust. His dad didn’t trust his judgment. Today that’d all change. Then, maybe, he’d see his creations come to life. There was nothing he wanted more.

  Except for Sass.

  Jordan massaged the back of his neck thinking about last night. The fact Sass still didn’t know who he really was drove him crazy. He could still see her lying on the king-size bed, so small, sounding so hurt. It killed him to know he was going to hurt her more.

  He hoped she’d let him spend the rest of his life making it up to her because Jordan needed her. He had no idea how it was going to go between them but he needed to try to make things work with Sass.

  Sophie’s voice came over the intercom, interrupting his circular thoughts. “Jordan, your dad would like to see you in his office.”

  His gut clenched as he leaped from his chair and, with one more glance at the lot, decided to face his father without Carlos. He tried to act cool as he strolled into his dad’s office, three doors down. But by the way his father squinted at him, he doubted he’d accomplished his goal.

  “Terry tells me there’ve been a few changes made to the Fastback. Do you care to explain?”

  Jordan folded his arms across his chest and said, “I had some improvements done.”

  “At Hogan’s?

  Jordan started. “How did you know?”

  “Their symbol is painted on the passenger fender.”

  Their symbol? What was he talking about? Jordan opened his mouth, about to utter an explanation when his father grinned.

  “The capital H with three snakes entwined around it? It’s perfect.”

  “Perfect?”

  “Yes. So is the car. They do damn fine work over there, don’t they?” His father stood, came around his desk and clapped him on the back and said, “Exactly what we need here at Carlyle’s. Shows our intention. Good work, Jordie.”

  Jordan gaped at his father. Then a slow smile spread across his features. He’d done it. He’d finally gotten his father’s approval. A weight lifted off his shoulders as he grinned in response to the expression on his father’s face.

  “I’ve got other good news.”

  “What?”

  “The investigation is complete. The fire’s been deemed accidental.”

  Jordan’s head fell back in relief. “Holy crap. Thank God. Will insurance cover everything?”

  “Not the improvements but that’s okay. Carlyle’s is making some positive changes, and I don’t mind investing in them.”

  Could today get any better? Jordan didn’t think so. “Dad, I’d really like to talk to you about some of my designs—”

  “Maybe later. I’ve got so much to do to get ready for the meeting.”

  “The meeting?”

  “At four. You’ll be there, won’t you?”

  “Of course.” Jordan couldn’t keep the grin off his face. There was a staff meeting. Excellent. It would be the perfect time to introduce Carlos to everyone and to accept the accolades that were finally coming his way.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As Sass followed her father into Carlyle’s Classics, she felt like a big old doe-eyed heifer on her way to slaughter. Blindly, she traipsed across the polished floors of Carlyle’s showroom, chewing a piece of gum like she was chewing her cud, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her life, as she knew it, was about to end. However, inside Sass was a wreck. She was on the verge of a breakdown and at any moment, she was quite sure she would self-destruct.

  The receptionist led them into a large room that was empty except for a big oval table surrounded by chairs. Sass eyed the room apprehensively. The spit and polish of Carlyle’s just felt wrong for an auto-body shop. Where was the grease? The dirt? The paint and the dust? Where were the parts and the tools and the noise of friendly banter between mechanics? The whole place seemed sterile. But then, she’d only seen the showroom, a space the size of Hogan’s whole shop, which was dedicated to showcasing some of their completed projects: a ’68 Dodge Charger, a ’67 Camaro RS, a ’69 Pontiac Firebird, among others. Under normal circumstances, she would have liked to have had a couple of minutes, hours even, to inspect the restorations, but there was nothing normal about these circumstances and the pristine nature of the front shop did everything to reinforce how upset she was.

  She couldn’t believe this was the place that might buy Hogan’s. Sass turned to glare at her dad. Sex had clouded his vision and judgment. This place was too new, too clean. Surely he could feel how wrong Carlyle’s was. But Buck only sat there, quietly picking at the dirt that was no longer beneath his fingernails.

  “Buck Hogan. It’s been a long time.”

  Buck stood and extended his hand across the table as a group of men entered. “Stewart. You’ve got a nice se
tup here.”

  “Thanks. Let me introduce my boys, Brendan and Blake. I’ve got another son too, who should be here any moment.”

  Buck shook their hands and then introduced Sass, who barely lifted her eyes to meet those of the blond giants across the table from her.

  The door opened and Stewart Carlyle acknowledged the man who entered. “Buck, this is my lawyer, Garth Dickinson.” The men said their hellos and then everyone sat down. “I was hoping you’d have some legal representation here as well,” Stewart said congenially.

  “I know more about what my shop’s worth than any damn lawyer, Stew, and I’m still entertaining a few other offers. I’ll take the paperwork to McKee when it’s time.”

  “I understand. Well, the offer is much the same as we discussed on the phone last week,” Stewart handed a package of papers to Buck, “there’s place for negotiation of course, but…”

  “Cut to the chase, Stew.”

  “It doesn’t make sense operating two separate restoration shops. Our purchase price is as discussed, but we move the major restoration equipment from Hogan’s to Carlyle’s, including body mechanics, and then we run Hogan’s as a local service auto body, doing minor repairs.”

  Buck turned his eyes on Sass but spoke to Stewart Carlyle when he said, “That might work, but it’s contingent on my mechanics, of course.”

  “Certainly. I would consider moving expenses and an increased salary, but I’m sure you understand…”

  Sass didn’t even hear the rest of what Stewart Carlyle had to say as she flipped numbly through the offer on the table. By the way Buck was looking at her it was obvious he wanted her to move to Denver and work at Carlyle’s.

  How could he? How dare he? The door opened and two more people came in, but Sass was too infuriated to bother to look up.

  “Sass?”

  Sass shifted her gaze and found herself staring into the wide blue eyes of Jordan Michaels.

  “Jordan?”