by TL Mayhew
She converses with Josh for a little longer before they turn and head toward the glass door.
As they pass by, he hands me her set of keys. “Mrs. Kincaid, this is Berkleigh, she’s one of our best mechanics and will take good care of your Caddy.”
The older woman stops, looks me up and down, then presses her purse closer to her hip. “How long have you worked here, young lady?” she asks, narrowing her stare on me.
“About a year, ma’am.”
“Have you ever worked on a Cadillac before?”
I shift on my feet, sure she’ll not like any answer I give. “Not this particular model but I have…”
Her glare shifts to Josh. “Where is Andre? He’s the only one I trust to work on my car. I don’t want some inexperienced…” She pauses mid-sentence, but what’s left unsaid is obvious. “I’d really just prefer if Andre works on my car, Josh.”
“Andre is home with his wife and new baby. Your car will be fine with Berkleigh. How about I buy you a cup of coffee while you wait?” he asks, directing her away from me and the fact that a woman will be working on her car. “By the sound of it, you’ve got something wrong with your power steering. I expect you’ll be here for a bit.”
After a final disapproving glance in my direction, she concedes and allows Josh to guide her toward his office. “It’s not that mud you call coffee in your office, is it? Because I wouldn’t pay ten cents for that molasses,” she says a little louder than necessary.
“Come now, Elizabeth. You know I only brew the best when you grace us with your presence,” he tells her, but tosses a save me look over his shoulder, making me chuckle before they disappear through the door.
Josh is a great guy. A family man with a loving wife and four girls, all under the age of ten. I know he loves his girls, but I have a feeling with so many under one roof it’s the reason he spends so much time here. I also feel it’s the reason he took a chance when he hired me on the spot the day of my interview.
The odd thing though, in the year I’ve been here, I’ve never seen him react to someone like he acted toward Mrs. Kincaid. I get it, it’s clear she has money and is most likely a repeat customer, but her blatant disrespect for my abilities was unnecessary.
A shiver of frustration runs through my body before I push it down and open the hood of her car.
Chapter 5
The job took a little longer than I’d expected. Had she waited much longer before bringing it in, the pump surely would have burned out. After a couple of hours, I’m finally shutting the hood, wiping down the interior, and pulling the car out front.
I drop the keys behind the counter and take a step toward Josh’s office.
When I peek through the small window, intent on catching his attention with a wave, I find there’s a man standing in front of the desk next to a seated Mrs. Kincaid. Whoever it is has managed to turn Mrs. Kincaid’s scowl into a megawatt smile.
The muscle in my jaw tics at her arrogance from earlier. Telling her the car is fixed so she can leave will be the best thing I’ll do all day. I raise my hand to knock, but at the same time Josh glances up and waves me in.
When I push on the door it doesn’t budge. The aged building his shop is in isn’t state-of-the-art by any means. With the summer heat and humidity the wood always swells, making it almost impossible to open the doors without a good hard shove.
So that’s what I do, but I lose my balance and stumble straight into the hard chest of the stranger.
His large hands grip my biceps, and suddenly I experience an onset of déjà vu.
Memories of that day in the professor’s office come flooding back. Donnelly’s touch on me. The way his breath smelled as he pinned me against the door. It’s as though it happened only yesterday.
I try and clear my mind of what happened. Taking in several deep breaths, the familiar scent of spicy cologne fills my nostrils, and hazel eyes from so long ago take the place of the dark images of my past.
I allow those eyes, and the memory of the stranger, to flood my mind until the pounding in my chest has lessened some. When it does, and my thoughts are back in the present, I realize I’m still clinging on to the man in Josh’s office.
Gathering some courage, I open my eyes and lift my head. The strong shoulders of a stranger are the first to grace my view. They’re not bodybuilder strong but they do stretch the material of his shirt and are obviously well defined.
His Adam’s apple bobs as I continue my perusal.
The hint of a five o’clock shadow covers a well-defined jawline and surrounds his full lips. I’m tempted to lift my hand and run my fingertips over the stiff whiskers, just so I know this isn’t a dream, but I tighten my grip on his shirt and force down the urge.
When my gaze finally reaches his eyes, the piercing hazel steals my breath. Not because of their inquisitive, soul-sucking transparent nature. No, it’s because in that moment I realize who it is I’m clinging onto.
Kye Kingston.
And he is definitely not a dream.
Of all the people in the world, what are the chances, I would stumble into this man’s chest a second time?
A flash of surprise flits across his eyes, but it’s gone instantly and that familiar smirk teases his lips. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.
“You two know each other?” Mrs. Kincaid asks, her tone laced with irritation and surprise.
“It was some time ago,” he tells her, while still holding my gaze.
Heat warms my cheeks. I slowly release the grip on his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles I’ve caused. “I… uh, I really am sorry. It’s just that the door gets stuck sometimes and… well, I should’ve never…”
“It’s fine,” he says, gripping my arms and stalling my roaming hands. His hold draws my attention back up to his eyes. Their shade slightly darker, as though my touch affects him in some way. Once he realizes, his expression morphs into a cocky smile and he shrugs. “I can think of other—better ways—to get my attention.”
I scoff at his comment and wriggle free from his grip, putting some distance between us. “That’s not what happened.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” he deadpans.
I’m speechless.
This brazen version of Kye is different than the kindhearted man I’d met only a year ago. The one who was protective and made sure I was okay.
I take in a breath and prepare myself to give him a piece of my mind.
“Berkleigh—” Josh says, halting what would’ve been an unprofessional reply.
I’m guessing it’s his attempt at drawing my attention off the arrogant, sexy man standing before me. And it does take everything I have to drag my stare away from Mr. Hazel Eyes before I acknowledge my boss with a nod. “Yeah?”
“I assume that since you pulled Mrs. Kincaid’s car around, it’s all done. Could you please explain what was wrong with it?”
The question reminds me she’s still in the room.
I glance at her and notice the smirk tugging at her lips is familiar but don’t think much more of the similarities. Instead, I can only assume she’s waiting for me to say I wasn’t able to fix it and we’ll need to call in Andre. But I’m not giving her that satisfaction because I can and did fix her car.
My mind shifts into mechanic mode and as if speaking a second language, I begin rattling off all the things I’d done, adding in additional hoses and belts I’d noticed that might need attention in the near future. By the end of my spiel her smirk is gone and her jaw has dropped, leaving her sitting there with a gaping mouth.
As much as I want to see the same reaction on Kye’s face, I don’t dare chance a glance in his direction. Instead, I turn to Josh and ask if he can handle the paperwork and the payment while I go clean up. He nods his approval and I head toward the door.
“Berkleigh…” Kye says.
The sound of my name floating from the mouth of the man who I once thought was my knight stops me midway through the door, bu
t I don’t turn around. “Yes.”
“My grandmother and I appreciate your help with her car.”
His grandmother? Shit! I’m sure she’ll be giving him an earful about me and how she never wants me working on her car again, that is if she hasn’t done so already. “It was no problem,” I mutter, unsure what else to say.
“There are plenty of professionally qualified mechanics on our team, but she insists on bringing her business here, to Josh. I’m not sure what these two have going on but…”
Mrs. Kincaid’s gasp fills the room. “Kye Kingston!”
His grandmother begins defending herself about Josh, and they banter on about how she’d never be interested in a man who has such horrible taste in coffee. He, in turn, reminds her he’s married, and his wife loves his coffee.
It goes on for several minutes. I use their distraction as my cue to leave.
As I head down the hall, I realize I hadn’t told them the keys to her car were on the counter out front. Turning on a heel, I’m suddenly face-to-face with Kye. For whatever reason he’d followed me.
He’s only a breath away, the heat from his body raising the hairs on my skin. I take a step back.
“You didn’t call,” he says, matching my steps until my back is against the wall.
I brace for the dark memories to resurface, but I only see him. Here and now. I’m so fixated on those hazel eyes pinned on me, as he closes the distance between us, that the rest of the world could burst into flames and I wouldn’t notice. “I, um…”
“Um… what? Spit it out, Berkleigh,” he says, placing a hand against the wall next to my head.
My mind is spinning. I’m torn between wanting to slap him, push him away, or kiss him. I do none of them, instead I stand taller and defend my reason for not calling. “I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you now. Once I found out who you were, I wasn’t going to dump my problems on you,” I tell him, lifting my chin defiantly.
“You thought calling me would lead to a discussion about what happened with you and the professor? That’s the only reason?” he asks, leaning in closer.
I scoff at his brash attitude. “Yes. Even if it wasn’t any of your business.”
“I see,” he says, pushing off the wall, turning his back on me, and running a hand through his hair.
In one instant I want to know what he’s thinking. All the dark thoughts about me and my past, but at the same time, I don’t want to know any of it.
After a deep breath, he turns and points a finger in my direction, opening his mouth to say something.
“Are we interrupting?” Josh asks.
“Yes,” Kye says, holding his narrowed stare on me.
Stepping out and away from the wall, I put some distance between us, done with this conversation and the mixed feelings tugging at my senses when he’s near. “No…Kye was just leaving.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Josh replies, although it’s clear he doesn’t buy my bullshit about the interruption.
I chance a glance in his direction, and my cheeks heat when I find him standing next to Kye’s grandmother. Her aged features have morphed into a look of annoyance. I can only guess her opinion of me hasn’t improved. But I’m also not sure I care.
“Well then, if you two are done here, Berkleigh, you won’t mind waiting for me in my office?”
Great. Now I’m going to get a lecture. I step toward the door, but I’m stopped with a light grip on my arm. Kye’s touch ignites my nerves the same as it did so long ago.
He leans in, hovering his mouth over my ear, and whispers, “This conversation isn’t over.” After which he releases me and heads toward the entrance, breezing straight past Josh without a word. “Come on, Grandmother.”
She glances at me before letting out an exasperated breath and turning on a heel, following him out of the building.
I don’t know what she has against me. I mean, sure I don’t share the same fashion sense as other women… like her. But that’s by choice. Hell, my dad would love it if he had a girly girl for a daughter, but that’s not me. And that shouldn’t make me any less of a woman because of it.
Shaking my head at her high and mighty attitude, I watch as their cars leave the parking lot.
Once they’re gone, I glance in Josh’s direction and find his disapproving stare. He doesn’t need to say anything, he just waves an arm in the direction his office and I obediently oblige.
“You wanna tell me what that was?” he asks after we both take a seat.
“Um… I don’t know what you mean,” I tell him, while picking at the grease under my nails.
He groans at my response. “You know exactly what I mean, Berkleigh. I’d like to understand why you and the grandson of one of our best clients were having such a heated conversation in the hall of my shop. Had there been customers here…”
I glance toward the door, straining to look in both directions.
“What are you doing?” he asks warily, as though he already knows.
“Looking for the swarm of customers we have. You know, those who might be offended by a conversation,” I tell him, turning back in my seat.
He lets out a long, frustrated breath and his tone turns serious. “I’m not sure what went on between the two of you, and I don’t want to. Just for future reference, I’d like it if you had your personal conversations in private. Maybe somewhere other than my place of business.”
I’m a bit surprised by his forwardness. The normally laid-back Josh is taking this pretty seriously. It was only a conversation and it hadn’t been that heated, but I guess I get where he’s coming from. “Aye, aye boss.” I say, saluting him before heading toward the door.
“Berkleigh?”
Again, with someone stopping me part of the way through the door. “Yeah.”
“A little piece of advice?”
Raising a brow, I’m curious at what he has to say. “Sure.”
“I wasn’t planning on saying anything but feel I can’t let you leave without at least warning you.” He shifts in his seat as though he’s uncomfortable with whatever advice he’s about to deliver. “Kye is a great guy, but for as long as I’ve known him, he’s used to getting what he wants. And from what I’ve seen today, you’re clearly in his sights.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up stopping me.
“If that’s not what you want, then be careful and stand your ground just as you’ve done today. Otherwise, you may find yourself falling down the rabbit hole that is Kye Kingston.”
Josh has never been one to delve into my personal life nor offer relationship advice. And after the reprimand I just received, this seems like odd timing. But I’m glad he shared. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll keep that in mind. Is that all?”
He offers a solemn nod before waving toward the door. “Go, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once I find my locker, I grab a duffle bag full of going home clothes, and step into a shower room, closing the curtain.
Pulling the hem of my shirt up and almost over my head, the faint scent of Kye’s cologne from our earlier collision permeates my senses and I press the material against my face, inhaling deeply.
I’m not dismissing anything Josh just told me, but I do take a moment to relish in the smell that got me through a few sleepless nights. After a beat, I forgo the shower and pull my shirt back down, deciding to wear it home.
With a quick hand scrub, I clean the grease from between my fingers and under my nails then dry off and pull the pin out of my hair. It falls in waves to the middle of my back, and I fluff it with my fingers before gathering the rest of my things and heading to my car.
The drive home is uneventful. Traffic is light and I sing along with the overplayed songs on the radio until I’m pulling off the interstate and turning on the road that will lead me home.
Just as I pull into the underground garage and turn my phone off silent, a slew of texts chime in.
Three are from Elliot.
El: Hey, Sis,
just checking in.
El: Dad is in a mood.
El: Call him please
Three are from Josh, reminding me I need to pick up brake pads from his supplier in the morning. I suck in a breath when I see where.
Josh: Kingston Corp, branch in Collinsville.
Josh: I’ll text the address later.
Josh: Five-year-old begging for games on my phone.
I imagine seeing his daughter at his feet with grabby hands, reaching for his phone. It puts a smile on my face and has me missing my own dad. I swipe through the contacts on my phone until his image appears.
Tapping the screen, I wait for it to connect. After two rings he picks up. “Is everything all right? There must be something going for you not to have checked in by now.”
I roll my eyes. Overprotective is an understatement with them. When I turned eighteen, legally I was considered an adult. Not with my family. At twenty-three years old I’m still treated as a child, at least according to them.
I sigh deeply into the phone. “Yes, Dad, everything is fine. You do realize we talk more now than we did when I was home?”
“Berkleigh,” he warns. “Just because you’re over a thousand miles away, doesn’t mean I can’t charter a plane and be there in a few hours. Remember who pays your rent.”
And there it is. He wouldn’t hesitate either. Both on flying out here and cutting off my rent allowance. “Yes, Dad. Sorry. It’s just that we had agreed to one call a day and that it would be a check-in when I got home from work. And I did, just get home.”
“Are you in your apartment yet?” he asks, not giving any leeway on his controlling me from a distance.
“No, Dad, I’m sitting in the parking garage. Elliot said…”
“I don’t give a shit what Elliot said. Do you know how dangerous parking garages can be? Get inside and text me when you do, so I know you’re fine.” He disconnects the call.
I let out a frustrated breath and shake my head. If he only knew how dangerous college was, maybe he wouldn’t be so paranoid of my being in a well-lit security-monitored garage. This parking lot is ten times safer than a certain professor’s office.