Sweet Dreams
Page 18

I stopped, waited and two of the three men glanced at the front runner, a close-cropped-black-haired man who had a thick goatee with a hint of gray in it and a solid body (great arms with lots of interesting-looking tattoos). He looked to be a few inches taller than me even in my mini-heels. He was wearing a white t-shirt, faded jeans and motorcycle boots and all (but the boots, but what did I know, they were black, they could be) were stained with black smears of grease.
“Hey,” he said when he was several feet away, his hands held a cloth that was also white with black smears and he was adding to the stains as he twisted it around his fingers. “Can I help you?”
I started toward him and met him halfway with a smile.
“Hi, that’s my car.” I twisted and pointed at my black Lexus, seeing across the forecourt that both Tate and the man he was talking to had their eyes on me. Therefore I twisted back to the black-haired man. “I need some work done.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked
“Nothing, I’ve just been on the road awhile. I need an oil change, maybe a tune up, the tires rotated and it’d be cool to get it detailed. Do you do that?”
He grinned at me and I noticed he had nice white teeth that seemed whiter against his goatee and tan face.
“Yep,” he answered and I smiled back at him.
“Great, how long will it take?”
“We’re covered,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the mess of vehicles in the bays and then back at me. “Shop’s closed on Sunday. It’ll probably be late Monday.”
I bit my lip since I needed my car to go to Sunny and Shambles’s house that night.
He saw me biting my lip and asked, “You need a loaner?”
“You do that?”
“No,” he replied and I couldn’t help it, I blinked.
“Then, um…”
He interrupted my mumbling. “Find one for you, though.”
I blinked again, surprised.
“Really?”
He grinned again. “Yep.”
“Okay, that’d be nice. I’ll, uh… pay extra if you like.”
“Not necessary,” he said. “You draw down the tank, just fill it up before you return it. That good?”
I smiled at him. “Yeah, that’s great. Very nice of you.”
“Not nice,” he replied.
“Sorry?”
“I’m not nice,” he repeated.
I tipped my head to the side. “You seem nice to me.”
“It’d be nice, I was doin’ this just to do it. I’m not doin’ it just to do it. I’m doin’ it so you’ll owe me.”
I blinked again and righted my head.
“Sorry?” I asked.
“Like the idea that you’d owe me.”
“Oh,” I whispered because I really didn’t know what else to say to that odd and vaguely scary (but also vaguely exciting) remark.
He stuck out a big, strong, attractive hand that had black grease stains edging his fingernails. “I’m Wood.”
I took his hand and his fingers closed around mine, not shaking it, just holding it strong and tight and not letting go.
“I’m Lauren,” I said softly because he was kind of freaking me out.
“Pretty name,” he muttered, his black eyes not leaving mine, “suits you.”
“Thanks.” I was still talking soft.
“You new to town?” he asked, not dropping my hand.
“Yes,” I answered, wondering if I should but not stopping myself or pulling my hand away.
“Where you from?” he asked.
“Um… Phoenix, kind of. I grew up in Indiana though.”
“What’re you doin’ in Carnal?”
I shrugged even though he still had hold of my hand and I kept talking even though I didn’t know if I should. “Found myself roaming, roamed here, liked it and stayed.”
He threw his head back and laughed, at the same time giving my hand a gentle tug so I had to take a half a step toward him.
When he stopped laughing he dipped his chin and looked in my eyes again.
“Roamed to Carnal, liked it and stayed. You crazy?”
“No,” I replied.
“Think you are, you just don’t know it.”
“Um… can you let go of my hand?” I whispered.
“No,” he whispered back and I felt my heartbeat speed up.
“Ace,” I heard Tate call and I twisted my head to see him striding up to us, his long legs eating the distance, the gray-haired man he was with struggling to keep up.
“Tate, hey,” I said to him, tugged at my hand and luckily Wood let it go.
“Ace?” Wood asked and I turned back to him.
“Um… Tate’s nickname for me,” I said and Wood’s face got a little scary.
“Tate’s nickname?” he asked as Tate stopped somewhat close to my side.
“She’s mine,” Tate announced, my body gave a little jerk at his curiously proprietary words and my head twisted fast to look up at him.
“Yours?” Wood asked and his voice was now a little scary.
“I work for him,” I explained and watched Wood’s face and body relax.
“Ah,” he murmured, crossed his arms on his chest and his mouth twitched.
“You got car troubles?” Tate asked me, ignoring Wood.
“She needs an oil change and a detail,” Wood answered for me, not ignoring Tate, then he looked at the gray-haired man. “I’m givin’ her the ‘Stang as a loaner.”
The gray-haired man’s bushy eyebrows went straight to his hairline and I felt Tate go tense at my side.
“You’re givin’ her the ‘Stang as a loaner for an oil change?” the gray-haired man asked, clearly surprised.
“Yep,” Wood answered casually.
“Shee-it,” the gray-haired man muttered.
“Um… I can walk, mostly,” I informed them. “But I have to go to Shambles and Sunny’s tonight so I need a car, just for tonight.”
“I’ll give you a ride on my bike,” Tate offered and my head twisted again, and again it was fast, and I did this just so I could stare at him.
Then I said, “That isn’t necessary.”
“When you gotta be there?” Tate asked.
Before I could decline, Wood spoke. “She’s gettin’ the ‘Stang.”
Tate’s eyes sliced to Wood and he returned, “I got her.”
“We already made the deal,” Wood replied.