by Wendy Knight
Because rational wasn’t his strong suit anymore.
Katrina came in with a blast of cold air. “Got it. But Garrett, didn’t you leave her bike out front?”
Garrett glanced over his shoulder as Crew took the first aid kit from his sister. “Yeah. Right by the door.”
“Oh no.”
Azura’s eyes flew open and Crew’s fingers stilled on the tube of antibiotic ointment. “Was it not there?”
“You didn’t chain it up?” Crew asked stupidly. He knew Garrett hadn’t chained it up—he’d watched him lean it against the building. But they’d been hurrying to get inside, and the thought hadn’t occurred to him.
Garrett bounded to his feet and raced Katrina down the hall and back out the door. Crew could see them looking, but it wasn’t like the bike went skipping off to rest somewhere nearby because it didn’t like the wall.
Someone had stolen it in the two minutes they’d been inside.
He looked back at Azura, and the utter defeat in her face crushed him. She wasn’t even surprised. Just—just broken. “Do you have more finals today?” he asked quietly, turning back to the first aid kit because he honestly didn’t know what else to do. The antibiotic ointment was supposed to kill the pain, as well. Hopefully it worked.
“No. I was on my way to work.” Her voice was small, and there was no trace of the feisty woman he’d met three days ago. “It’s fine. It was a secondhand bike I picked up to save money on gas. It’s not a big deal.”
Except she didn’t have a car, so now she had no way to get around. “I can give you a ride. I’ll check on your car while we’re there.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Ruefully, she shook her head. “I feel like I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”
He glanced up at her while he tore open the small package. “It’s not a big deal. I’m done for the day, too. I was heading to the library to do homework, but with Garrett around, nothing ever gets done anyway.”
Holding his breath because somehow that equated to him not pushing too hard, he spread the ointment across the road rash. She watched him silently, her eyes seeming to burn into his soul. “How are you so kind?”
“It’s not there. I’m so sorry, Azura. I’ll buy you a new one.” Garrett looked like a kicked puppy. Or a puppy that had gotten into the garbage and then gotten caught.
“I’ll file a police report. We’ll find it. And I’ll murder whoever took it. Just to be safe.” Katrina slammed the door behind her and Crew bit back a smile, lest his sister see him. Hell hath no fury like his sister when a wrong had been committed.
“No, it’s fine. The bike cost me like ten dollars. It’s not a big deal. I can take an Uber.”
“What? No.” Katrina shook her head, her long black hair tumbling down her back. “Crew can drive you. He has one more final and doesn’t have to go to work until Friday. He can be your personal chauffeur for the rest of the week.”
Subtle, sis. Real subtle.
“No. I’ll be fine, really. But thank you. I probably need to get to work—”
He’d never thought being turned down as a chauffeur would be so disappointing. “At least let me drive you there. It’s not a big deal.”
She pushed herself to her feet. “If you’re sure.”
More than she would ever know.
“My truck’s out this way.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Azura made it to Crew’s truck with no further incident, thank the heavens. Her face stung but she had work to do. Stinging faces would have to wait until later. She inspected the damage in his rearview mirror while he navigated the snowy streets.
It wasn’t pretty.
Good thing she wasn’t looking for a date.
Good thing she wasn’t currently trapped in a truck with the hottest guy she’d ever met.
Oh wait.
Her phone rang and she reached for her bag, tugging it up into her lap. The strap was tangled around her foot somehow, and everything dumped onto the floor.
Tampons, pads, Midol, along with her wallet, brush, car keys and phone.
Right there for Crew to see.
She snatched the phone off the mat and tried to shove everything back in with her foot. “Hello?” she gasped.
“Azura, this is Rob.”
Her boss.
And he didn’t sound happy.
She swallowed hard. “Hi Rob, I’m on my way now.” She glanced at the clock. Only one thirty. She still had a half hour until she was supposed to be there, so why was he calling?
“I hate to do this over the phone, but we found your keycard in the snow right outside the door—”
Her heart thundered to a stop in her chest and she froze.
“And as you know, we have a no-tolerance policy for lost key cards. If anyone not cleared came in and saw our projects, it could negatively affect the whole company. It’s right in the contract you signed, Azura. I’m very sorry. Losing your keycard is automatic grounds for dismissal. Especially right outside the door.”
“Rob, I work harder than anyone there, you know that. I’m the only intern you’ve ever kept longer than a semester—you said so yourself. The keycard—it dropped out of my purse and got lost in the snow—it was dark. I looked for an hour but—but it must have been buried.” She was babbling, she knew. But he couldn’t fire her. She’d worked so hard. Stability had been so close. “The entire formulaic calculation for our next proposal was my project, Rob. No one else knows the numbers or the formulas. Please—”
“I’m sorry, Azura, I really am. I wish there was something I could do.”
She pressed a fist close to her mouth, trying to fight tears. Tears wouldn’t help. “It’s almost Christmas. Everyone is going on vacation. You don’t have anyone to work Christmas if I’m—if I’m gone. I’m the only one who will work on Christmas, Rob.”
“I know. This is hard on all of us, Azura. If you need a good reference, I’ll be happy to write you a letter of recommendation.”
Her eyes fell closed and she leaned her head back against the seat. “Thank you.”
What else was there to say?
“We’ll have your things waiting by your car. I just ask that you move the car by this evening, please.”
The car that wouldn’t start. Yeah, that would be no problem.
“I’m on my way. I’ll get it now,” she whispered.
“Thank you, Azura. I’m so sorry about this.” Rob actually did sound sorry, so she couldn’t even hate him. She would have liked to hate him.
Crew kept glancing over at her, dark eyes concerned. She hung up and dropped her phone into her lap. “I just got fired.”
“I heard.” His voice, deep and comforting, did nothing to soothe the raw edges of her heart. If anything, it made it worse. Of everyone on the planet who could witness her humiliation, it had to be him.
Of course it had to be him.
“I’m sorry. Are you—are you going to be okay?”
She nodded, still struggling not to cry. “I have savings.”
He shook his head. “Who fires someone at Christmas? What kind of a monster does that?”
She leaned against the window and stared at the falling snow. “Lots of people get fired at Christmas.”
“You speaking from experience?” She had to strain to hear him over the roar of the truck.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Azura hesitated, because it sounded much harsher than she meant it. “I’m sorry. It’s not a pleasant subject. Do you happen to have any tow truck recommendations?”
“My cousin owns a shop. We’ll get this taken care of.”
They drove in silence the rest of the way, Crew somehow seeming to sense that she was doing everything she could to hold it together and that alone took all of her concentration.
Or maybe he just didn’t feel like talking either.
They pulled into the parking lot and before she even slid out of the truck, she could feel eyes on her. All her old colleagues, her bosses, securi
ty.
Security, standing in the doorway with her box of things.
Crew swore softly. “Maybe I can get your car started.”
CREW couldn’t get it started. “It looks like a broken radiator.”
Azura leaned against the door, trying to not shiver and using her cold hands as an ice pack of sorts for her face. “But the mechanic looked at it and said it was fine.”
“Well, it started right up so they probably assumed. But this wouldn’t show up until it got clogged.” Crew stepped back and slammed the hood down, dusting his hands off on his jeans.
“So everyone watches me get fired, watches security clean out my desk and now they get to watch my car get towed. Awesome.”
Crew strode over to his truck. He didn’t slip and slide in the snow. It was like he had anti-ice built into his shoes. Or maybe he floated above the snow like an angel.
Whoa.
Where’d that thought come from?
“I’ve got some chains in my truck. I can pull your car back to a mechanic’s.”
Of course he did. He pretty much had everything he needed to be any kind of knight in shining armor. “Thank you,” she said for the thousandth time since she met him.
She watched in silence, along with everyone inside, while he hooked up her car. “Can you drive my truck and I’ll steer yours? Your car doesn’t have heat and you’re already a popsicle.”
“I can drive a truck, but I don’t think you can drive my car.” She almost smiled, but her lips couldn’t seem to muster the energy. “She’s a tad complicated.”
“She?” Crew raised an eyebrow, brushing snow off Azura’s uninjured cheek.
Azura blushed, the warmth from his fingers spreading across her skin and down her throat. “I—yes. My car—she’s a she.”
“I see. Well, I’m usually pretty good at handling complicated women.”
Azura rolled her eyes, laughing off the butterflies that had attempted to take up residence in her stomach. “Right. You’ve made that abundantly clear in these few days that I’ve known you. You drive the truck. I can survive no heat until we get to a shop.”
“Garrett’s shop isn’t far from here. His team can get this thing fixed so you aren’t riding bikes for the rest of winter.”
“Garrett has a shop?” She really, really didn’t want to stand in the parking lot, disgraced and confused and battered and bruised while they argued about this, but she’d never heard of Garrett working at a shop. As far as she’d known, he was as wealthy as his cousin.
“He owns the one on Fifth. His crew is amazing, and they’ll take good care of your baby, I promise.”
From anyone else, she would have ignored his suggestion, done a thousand internet searches and asked all her friends on Facebook and Instagram before she made any decisions, but with Crew, despite his cockiness or his wealth, she trusted him.
For some inexplicable reason.
“Okay. Lead on, Sir Galahad.” She bowed away from him, slipped on the ice, and fell on her stomach.
Because her humiliation hadn’t yet been completed.
Crew swore and swooped to her side, lifting her to her feet. “The ice—it really, really likes you.”
“That it does. Can we get out of here now?”
“Yes ma’am.”
WERE it not for the horrible weather, steering behind the giant Chevy truck might have been fun. She only had to brake when Crew braked and turn the wheel when he turned the wheel. It was like being a kid again, letting someone else do all the driving. The trip was short, though, since the town wasn’t huge to begin with, and Fifth Avenue was on the same side as her work.
Former work.
She was glad she’d never made friends there or having to say goodbye would have been really awkward.
Actually, that was why she’d never made friends. Because goodbyes were inevitable, and she didn’t want them to hurt any more than they had to.
Crew pulled into the parking lot and Azura dutifully steered along with him, braking before she ran into the back of the big truck when he stopped in the middle of everything. The place was packed—which meant it had to be good, right? Or they wouldn’t have so much business.
But it was bad for Azura because there was no way they could fit her car in with all these others.
Crew jumped out, holding one finger up to her as he jogged inside. She assumed that meant to stay put, and she was all too happy to do so. Who knew how much evil ice lurked beneath her car, just waiting for her to get out and plummet to her death.
Or to her butt. Whichever.
Her phone buzzed and she dug it out of her coat pocket. “Hey little elf.”
“Z, where are you? Your boss called me and—”
“What? My boss called you? How does he even have your number?” Azura subconsciously found herself searching the shop’s interior for Crew. Her heart thudded in her chest when she found him, leaning one hip against the counter while he talked to whoever was behind the desk.
“You listed me as your emergency contact. Awww!” Holly cooed. Azura smiled. “Anyway, he’s worried about you. He said you had to have your car towed and your face looked like you’d been in a fight and you got fired, Z? Seriously? How did that happen?”
Azura pressed her fingers self-consciously against her injuries as she launched into her tale of woe. Holly made appropriate sympathy noises at all the right places, soothing some of the hurt just a little. “It’s been a rough day,” Azura finally finished just as Crew came back out. “But I’ve got to go. I’ll call you back in just a bit, ‘Kay? I’m not sure what I’m doing with my car tonight.”
She hung up and swung the door open just as Crew got close, narrowly missing knocking it into him. It was like her brain knew he was within range, but her hands had a mind of their own and pushed it open anyway. “I’m so sorry!” she squeaked, starting to get out to see if he was okay.
He pushed her back in, his touch gentle against her shoulder. “No, no, stay there. It’s safer if you just stay in the car—”
“So they can’t take it?” She didn’t know any other mechanics. The one she’d called was obviously not great, since he’d given her car a clean bill of health when it clearly did not have a clean bill of health.
“I didn’t say that.” He grinned, squatting down next to her. “Garrett’s family. He made it work. I’d rather you not fall any more today so maybe I should just carry you around like a kangaroo until the ice all melts.”
The visual alone made Azura burst out laughing, and she clapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. This was not a day to laugh. It was a hard day, a bad day, a very hard, bad day and she didn’t want to laugh.
Crew’s eyes sparkled.
“You don’t have the stomach to be a kangaroo.”
“Maybe a—what kind of animal carries things around on its back?” He stood up, holding out a hand and she cautiously took it. “A gallant steed?”
“Also a donkey,” she said as he pulled her to her feet, his other hand already on her waist, expecting her to fall.
He frowned. “We’ll go with Gallant Steed for $200, Alex,” he grumbled. “Hop on.”
A man in coveralls jogged out and Crew reached past her, deftly plucking the keys from the ignition, and held them out. “Wanna grab your house key before I pass these on?”
He was so close, she could smell his cologne and see the pulse in his neck, and she discovered all coherent thought fled as she stared at him stupidly.
“Sorry,” Crew said to the man, “She’s had a rough day.”
Shaking her head to clear out the fog that had decided to take up residence, she pulled her house key off the ring and handed them back. He tossed the keys to the man and scooped her off her feet. “Grab your bag.”
Obediently, she grabbed her purse and he held her close to his chest, carrying her to the truck. Even through his winter coat, she could feel his muscles, and something stupidly thought it would be a good idea to lean her head against his shoulder.
It hurt, though, because that whole side of her face was raw, and she yelped, jerking away.
Jerking herself almost out of Crew’s arms.
He struggled to keep from dropping her and stay on his feet at the same time. She squealed and buried her face in his neck, waiting for the fall.
It never came.
“I got you,” Crew whispered, his lips dangerously close to her forehead, so close she could feel his warm breath thawing what the winter snow seemed determine to freeze. Cautiously, she raised her head. Crew looked down at her in amusement, and everyone else watched them curiously. Azura’s heart pounded relentlessly against her rib cage, and she told herself it was just adrenaline. “I got you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Azura curled up in a ball on her side of the truck while he drove, letting the heat defrost her. He watched her out of the corner of his eye while he navigated the roads, his heart doing weird flip floppy things in his chest. He hadn’t told her that insurance would probably deny the claim since the original mechanic had said her car was fine and there was no way to prove the accident had caused the cracked radiator. He figured she’d had enough stress for one day.
He’d told them he would pay it and prayed she wouldn’t find out because she’d probably march him right back in there for a refund and pay it herself, when it really was his fault. And judging by the fact that her car was twenty years old and more rust than paint, she couldn’t afford it.
“How’s your face?” he finally asked as they pulled into her parking space. She would get out, probably fall a couple of times, and then she’d go inside and be gone and he wasn’t ready for that yet.
She peered into the rearview mirror. “It’s looking better every time I see it.”
He didn’t know if she was kidding or delusional, because every time he saw it, it was redder and angrier than before. But he wasn’t about to point that out.
“In fact, it will probably be gone by the time I have to take my last final tomorr—” She froze, dark green eyes widening. “Crap.”