How to Handle a Heartbreaker

by Marie Harte

  But the message was clear. “Good.”

  “Not yet, but it’s gonna be. I’ve been thinking about it. We should definitely keep this between us. The guys have a way of putting their noses where they don’t belong.”

  “You have met Maddie and Vanessa, right?” At his laugh, she added, “No argument from me on being quiet.”

  “Perfect. Now be nice to my dog, or I’ll know.”

  She snorted. “Get lost, Singer. Go play with your pipes.”

  “I’ll be doing just that until I come back, day and night. Man, if you knew half of what I plan on doing to you… I’m gonna—”

  She disconnected before he could say anymore. But she fell asleep with a big grin on her face. The week couldn’t go by quickly enough.

  Chapter 7

  Abby hadn’t thought time could stand still, but just two days into her indentured servitude to a dog had her rethinking her agreement. She glared at Demon Dog, who stood in the kitchen with bits of paper in his mouth while he whined.

  Next to her, newly six-year-old Colin McCauley stared wide-eyed at the scene of the crime. Her new magazine, her beloved Entertainment Weekly, lay in shreds on the floor. The culprit kept backing up, pretending not to be at fault.

  She had twenty minutes to get Colin to soccer practice. A favor for Flynn she now regretted, because she had to rush into the ungodly traffic. It seemed like every time she turned around, they closed another street for repair.

  “I think he ate the magazine.” Colin, a miniature version of Mike, just stared at Mutt.

  “I know.” Concerned at the way he was looking at Mutt, she added, “But he’d never hurt you, sweetie. You don’t need to be scared—”

  “That’s awesome!” Colin grinned, and she saw the gap in his front teeth. “I wonder if the paper will be in his poop. Will he poop it out, Abby?”

  “I guess.” Brody, you owe me big for this. “Come on. We need to go or you’re going to be really late.” She turned back to Mutt. “And you… Stay here. You’re in big trouble when I get back, buddy.”

  He stared at her with sad eyes under bushy brows. Yeah right. Like she believed the dog possessed an ounce of remorse in his goliath body. She knew she couldn’t discipline him later because too much time would have passed. With any luck, he’d destroy something else before she got back.

  Colin grabbed his soccer ball and water and they left in her car. For once, the weather had been a mild cold and dry. Still, Seattle commuters might have been driving in snow for all their craziness. She turned down several side streets to avoid the busier roads and made a wrong turn.

  At the rate she was going, it should have come as no surprise when she drove over something bumpy in the road and her car responded by lurching, then limping along. The tires didn’t seem right. “Oh, hell.”

  “You said hell,” Colin helpfully pointed out from the backseat.

  “Heck. I meant heck.” She swore to herself as she pulled to the side of the road and managed to turn off onto another street. The car made terrible noises and she knew she had at least one flat. Damn it.

  She had no idea where she’d turned off because she hadn’t been paying attention, and she needed help. Abby didn’t do cars. She made a mental run-down. Flynn was busy with a project for his parents. Maddie would be useless with a tire. Mike was at work, hence the need for someone else to watch Colin, and Brody continued to work an hour and a half away. Vanessa, she had no doubt, could change it for her, but Vanessa had been working her tail off lately, and Abby didn’t want to interrupt and add to her stress.

  She sat there and gripped the steering wheel, not happy at all.

  “Are we here?” Colin asked with cheer.

  The sky remained light enough that they had some time before it turned dark and spooky and made it that much harder to fix the tire.

  Abby sighed. “Not yet. Just sit tight, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  She mentally thanked Mike for having such an easy-going kid. Abby left the car, grateful to see that the road they sat on didn’t look too busy or rundown. She thought she recognized one side street’s name from the online map she’d pulled up before leaving. By her calculations, she couldn’t be too far from soccer practice.

  She rounded the car and took a hard look at her tires. The back two looked fine, as did the front driver-side tire. But the front passenger one had issues. She could see a metallic spike sticking out of it. Not good.

  “Shoot.” She retrieved the phone from her pocket and peered down at it, wondering who to call. She’d canceled her auto service months ago, trying to whittle down her bills to the bare necessities. Cable—yes. Auto assistance—no. She could almost hear her car laughing at her. Well who’s laughing now, Abby? Stupid Harry the Hyundai. It just figured the vehicle would be problematic…and male.

  As she dithered about what to do, a sleek black muscle car purred to a stop behind her. Immediately envisioning a gang, a serial killer, or a pack of rapists bent on taking her down and selling Colin into slavery, she stepped back and tried to puff up her five foot three frame. She typed into her cell phone 9-1- and paused.

  The car looked shiny and clean, but she couldn’t make out much through the dark windshield.

  “Who’s that, Abby?” Colin yelled through the car window and turned in his seat.

  “Just wait,” she said back.

  The car door opened and out walked a…woman.

  Immediately, everything in Abby relaxed. Yet as the woman drew closer, Abby tensed again, not sure if she should be more scared now than before. The woman bearing down on her had to be six feet tall, because she dwarfed Abby. Long, ash-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail showed off angular features that couldn’t be called pretty. Interesting, but not classically beautiful. The woman had cold gray eyes, an eyebrow ring, and a nose piercing, and she wore a white sleeveless tank in the cold weather that exposed sleeves of tattoos.

  Colorful ink covered her arms from shoulders to forearms. Her tank top put Abby in mind of the old-fashioned, non-PC wifebeaters. Dark coverall pants, black combat boots, and rough-looking hands ending in short, ragged nails completed the stranger’s ensemble.

  The woman glared at her.

  Holy Moses. She’s going to kick my ass, rip off my arms, and use them for batting practice. Must save the boy before she ties him to her bumper and drives away.

  “You need help?” the woman asked in a smooth, husky voice, which contrasted with her rough and tough appearance. Abby also caught a peek at white, even teeth.

  Anyone who used a toothbrush regularly couldn’t be all bad, could she? Abby nodded, unable to speak.

  The woman walked around the car, assessing it. She glanced at Colin waving madly in the backseat, then looked back at Abby and offered a surprisingly nonthreatening grin. “Cute kid.”

  “He’s not mine. I’m babysitting and we’re late to soccer practice.” Ramble much? Abby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sorry. I’m freaked because my tire is blown and I’m not good at mechanics.”

  “Lucky for you I was heading back from our parts dealer.” Body parts? The woman put a hand in her back pocket and retrieved a knife—

  Abby shook off her delirium and accepted a business card with a picture of a car on it.

  “Name’s Del. My dad and I run an automotive place together. It’s down off Rainier Avenue.”

  Abby thanked her good fortune. “You’re a mechanic?”

  “Yep.” Del moved around Abby and crouched to stare at her tire. “I think you’re going to have to replace it. A patch won’t cover that damage.”

  “Right.” What were the odds she’d have a problem and a mechanic would zoom in to save the day? A female one at that? It was like her muse had decided to give her an early Christmas.

  “You have a spare?”

  “Oh, yes.” Abby moved to t
he back of the car and released the trunk. Fascinated, she watched Del grab her jack and spare and return to the flat. Then Del walked over to her own car, retrieved a weird-looking wrench, for the lug nuts, Abby supposed, and returned.

  “Can you get the kid out? Have him stand with you.”

  Colin got out and stood with Abby, his gaze fixed on Del. “Oh wow. Her arms are all colored!”

  “Colin, this is Del. She’s a mechanic, and she’s been nice enough to help us with the tire.”

  “Hi.” Colin held out his hand.

  Nonplussed, the woman looked from him to Abby and slowly rose from her crouch by the tire to take it. “Hi. I’m Del.”

  “Del what?”

  Del continued to shake his hand, the big intimidating woman and the small smiling child. They made quite a picture. “My name is Del Webster.”

  “I’m Colin McCauley. I just turned six, and I lost a tooth before Brian Daugherty did.” He beamed.

  Del laughed and gently disengaged her hand. “Nice. When I was four, I accidently broke my brother’s front tooth with a wrench. I got in big trouble for that. My brother wasn’t happy at all.”

  Colin nodded, his eyes wide. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. My dad was so mad, he took away my play tool set. I cried for a week.”

  “Always knew you wanted to be a mechanic, huh?” Abby asked.

  Del’s eyes lost some of their warmth when she looked back at Abby, even as she answered, “Yeah. Anything to be with my dad.”

  “Me too.” Colin moved closer when Del looked into the car at the dash.

  “It’s in park,” Abby said, realizing why she checked. A safety-conscious woman. Good.

  “Just checking. Don’t want to run anything over if we can help it.”

  “Yep. I’m just like my dad too,” Colin was saying as Del jacked up the car. “I’m going to build stuff. I have my own hammer. And maybe I’ll make a lot of money, like Uncle Cam. And I’ll know how to fix pipes too, like Uncle Flynn and Ubie. And I’ll—”

  “Hold on, Colin. Let’s not distract Del while she’s working.” Abby prayed the poor woman wouldn’t up and leave. Colin had cuteness down to a science, but he also had a tendency to run at the mouth. That could be especially wearing after a full day’s work.

  “I don’t mind,” Del said as she started on the lug nuts. She muscled them off with an easy show of strength.

  “Wow. She’s strong. But her muscles aren’t as big as Daddy’s.”

  “Heck, Colin. Charles Atlas isn’t as big as your daddy,” Abby murmured.

  “Who?”

  Del grunted. “You should see my dad and brother. Huge guys. I’m considered the little one.”

  “They must be giants.”

  “They are.” Del grinned at Colin over her shoulder before removing the tire, replacing it with the spare, and putting the lug nuts back on.

  “I hope you know I’m watching everything you’re doing,” Abby said. “So next time I’ll be able to change it myself.”

  “That’s good, but those nuts were on tight. Not saying you couldn’t handle it, but well…”

  Abby sighed. “I know. I’m not an imposing figure. Short and mealy.”

  “Mealy? Like a meal? Because I’m hungry.” Colin rubbed his belly. “Uncle Flynn forgot to give me a snack.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that at the house?” Abby asked.

  “Because Mutt was eating the magazine and I forgot.” He turned his attention back to Del. “Mutt is Ubie’s dog, and he’s big. He eats everything. Even squirrels. And he’s gonna poop out paper. Isn’t that awesome?”

  Squirrels? Brody hadn’t mentioned that.

  “Cool dog.” Del lowered the car to the ground and removed the jack. She tightened the lug nuts, showing the power apparent in her toned arms.

  “Oh wow. Is that a dragon?” Colin asked and moved forward. He touched Del’s forearm before Abby could stop him.

  “Colin.”

  “He’s okay,” Del said with a softness Abby wouldn’t have credited her. “Yeah. I got this when I turned twenty-two.” In a lower voice, she confessed, “My brother did it for me. He’s an artist. You should see his arms.”

  “Oh, can I?” Then he turned to Abby. “Can I get a tattoo? Please?”

  “Ah, well…”

  Del flicked him on the nose. “No can do, sport. You have to be at least eighteen to get tats. And only if your mom and dad say it’s okay.”

  “My mom’s in heaven.”

  Del blinked at him and glanced at Abby, who nodded. “Oh, well. Mine too. Maybe they’re playing together right now.”

  Colin’s sweet smile gave Abby butterflies. When she spent time with him, she imagined what it must be like to have a child. To her bemusement, she found the thought didn’t freak her out the way it had when she’d been with Kevin. An uninvited image of Brody came to mind, with his sly grin and bright gold eyes. She wondered if he ever thought about kids, because he loved Colin like crazy.

  “Yeah. They could play rummy.” Colin nodded. “My dad said Mommy liked that a lot.”

  Del grinned and held up a hand. “High five?”

  Colin slapped it hard, and Del pretended it hurt.

  “You’re a pretty strong guy yourself.”

  “Oh, did I hurt you?” Typical Colin. He sounded proud, not sorry, to show off his power. Then he blinked. “I didn’t really, did I?” He leaned closer to look at her palm.

  “Nah, just kidding you.” Del mussed his hair as she stood. “Guess you need to get to soccer, huh?”

  Distracted, Abby had forgotten all about soccer. “Oh, crap.”

  “You said crap,” Colin pointed out.

  “Crap isn’t a bad word,” she said absently. “Thank Del and get in the car, you monster.”

  “Thanks, Del.” Colin tugged Del by the arm, and she lowered to hear him better. Then he shocked her by planting a kiss on her cheek. “Bye.” He darted into the car.

  Del rubbed her cheek. “Bye.”

  Abby smiled. “He’s a McCauley. They’re all like that.”

  “Damn.”

  “Don’t let him hear you. That’s a ‘bad word.’” They shared a smile. “Seriously though, can I pay you something for your time? You really helped us out.”

  “No, no. Just doing my civic duty. You ever need auto help, give us a buzz.” Del turned to her car, but before she got in, she snickered. “Gotta say it. You looked pretty damn pathetic just staring at your tire. Glad I could help.”

  “Well, thanks again.” Abby waved. She entered the car, started it up, and managed to drive Colin to practice. Del must have been going the same way, because she followed, and then, in a burst of speed, passed them when they turned into the complex.

  What an astonishing woman. In some ways she reminded Abby of Vanessa. That air of competence and disregard for how the world would see her. But what gave a woman so many rough edges? What pushed her to get so many tattoos and piercings, or to work in a male-dominated environment? Del had a hardness to her at odds with that softness she’d shown when talking to Colin. Depth of character. The perfect foil for Abby’s newly imagined hardheaded hero.

  She mused on story ideas while Colin played indoor soccer for half an hour. Flynn showed up at the end of practice in his work clothes.

  “Hey, Abby.”

  “Flynn. You didn’t have to come out here. I could have taken Colin home.”

  “No problem. I really appreciated you helping me out. First Brody, now me…” he trailed off, his gaze focused on Colin. “So how’s it going with Mutt?”

  She snorted. “About how you’d think. That dog is stubborn. He thinks he owns Brody’s house.”

  “House? You’re being nicer than I thought you would.”

  “House, pit, scrap heap, haunted horror. Take your pick.”


  “Yeah. All that.”

  They laughed.

  “Actually, his bedroom is nice.”

  Flynn turned to her and wiggled his brows, and she made sure to keep to the script. No one but her and Brody needed to know they’d been intimate.

  “Stop. You know what I mean. Brody and I are just friends. That’s it.”

  “Uh-huh.” His knowing grin aggravated her.

  “Vanessa’s right. You are annoying.”

  “Consider the source.”

  She swallowed a laugh. “So anyway, I’ve been thinking about your website and I—”

  He held up a hand. “Stop. I am not dealing with your freaky technological issues. You want me to unclog your sink or install new fixtures? Call me. The computer shit is Brody’s bag.”

  “It’s not shit. It’s my job.”

  “Oh really? Because Maddie told me you’re an amazing writer.” He gave her a superior grin.

  “She has a big mouth.”

  “That she does.”

  Abby sighed. “You’re not telling people about me, are you?”

  “Nah. That might imply I read, and I like to be underwhelming. I’m all like I don’t know what books are, focused on nothing more than being beautiful on the job. Takes women off their guard.”

  She huffed. “So you’re keeping the field open while you play with my best friend’s heart?”

  “What?” He blinked. “Hell no. Where do you get your ideas?”

  “Creative license. Writer.” She pointed to herself.

  “Ah. Yeah, well. I was talking about our female clients.” He grinned, oozing charisma. “The prettier I am, the more business I bring McSons.”

  “It’s like I want to kick you in the knee, but then you start smiling and I forget myself.”

  “Right. See? A gift.”

  She laughed at him. “Stop being a ho and collect your nephew. And by the way, he told me you forgot to feed him.”

  “Shit.”

  “That’s a bad word,” Colin said from behind him.

  “Damn.”