Regan Black - Braving The Heat

“Stop. Please.” She held up a hand as she studied him. There was obviously a bigger issue on his mind than a disabled car. Filing a report would also mean suggesting Murtagh as a suspect, which could make her look like an idiot grasping at straws to undermine his credibility in the lawsuit. She had to trust her lawyer’s advice that the truth would come out and clear her of any wrongdoing or errors.

“I hear what you’re saying,” she continued. “This was probably a prank gone wrong. Yes, the timing makes it unlikely, but it is possible this was a case of mistaken identity.” Logic and odds aside, she couldn’t risk giving voice to the outrageous theory that Murtagh had done it. “I’ve only had the car three weeks.”

“It’s paid for?” Stephen asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll put it back together for you.” He sighed and pulled such a grimace, she laughed, startling them both.

“That isn’t necessary,” she said. “I can handle the repairs, and help with the phone when I’m here.”

He shot her a skeptical glance. “And you’ll work at the club and jump through hoops for your lawyer, too?”

That image made her grin. “He keeps telling me he’s the one jumping through hoops on my behalf.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “You’ve got a deal, if you agree to stay in the trailer.”

She counted to ten. Slowly. “I don’t like the idea of pushing you out of your place.”

He shrugged that off. “You’ll get over it.”

It was such an unexpected reply she laughed again.

He pushed away from the counter and reached into the fridge for another bottle of water. Pausing at the desk, he skimmed the messages she’d taken, various expressions flitting across his stern features. He turned over one message slip and wrote out a short list.

“Can you get these parts ordered for me?”

She glanced at his neat, block-style printing. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” He looked her over head to toe and back up. “If you hit a snag, be sure to ask for help.”

“I promise.”

“I have coveralls you can borrow. What about better shoes?”

“There are steel-toed boots in one of the boxes over there.” They were battered, but though she’d had few chances to use them in recent years, they still fit.

“All right.” With one last look, he walked out. A moment later the music started pulsing again.

Sensations continued to fizz through her system long after he left the office. Part of it was the anticipation of getting her hands dirty and seeing the result of fixing something. Another part was pure lust over the opportunity to work near a man who was bringing that classic Camaro back to life. Both man and machine had her system revving, she thought with a wistful sigh.

She couldn’t recall the last time any man as sexy as Stephen had studied her so thoroughly. Her face felt hot and her fingers trembled as she ordered the parts he’d requested.

With that task done, she rooted through her belongings and found her boots, then eyed the clock. Now that she didn’t need to find a place and move her stuff, she could potentially get started flushing the fuel lines before heading to the club.

She was almost—no she was definitely relieved when a call came in for a tow truck and he agreed to go pick a vehicle up. Relieved. Yes. If she went out to the garage and tried to work beside him now, with all this fizz, there was no telling what kind of stupidity her hormones would talk her into.

Neither of them needed that kind of complication.

* * *

What the hell was wrong with him? Stephen wondered a few hours later, as he worked alone in the shop. Every time he thought he had his head on straight, the memory of Kenzie’s laughter sent him spinning, the echo of the sound rattling through his head. Cranking the radio didn’t help. He left the garage and went out to detail his sister’s van. Spoiling her with that kind of surprise was probably a mistake and his mood soured further.

That mouth on Kenzie, he thought, so mobile and expressive. Her lips were quick with a smile and he couldn’t keep the images out of his head. Her laughter astounded him, the merry sound full and loud and rich, as if she didn’t care who heard her. He envied that wide-open spirit, even when it grated against the solitude he’d carefully built here.

How could Kenzie laugh at anything with a civil suit that threatened her career hanging over her head? He shot a glance back at the garage, fighting off the urge to get in there and just do the work for her.

She claimed she could handle it, and it wasn’t a complex task to flush a little sugar out of a fuel system. If only that was all that junker needed. He was almost embarrassed to have such a sorry-looking car in the shop.

Not sorry to have Kenzie around.

The errant thought startled him and he shoved it away. He didn’t like extra people milling about in his space, but having her answering calls had been a big help. Mitch was about the only other person he could work with. Even his dad got under his skin after a few hours.

At least she wasn’t here tempting him into conversation just so he could hear her voice. The last time a woman intrigued him like this, he’d been engaged to her. Stephen fought back the unwelcome spark of interest. Kenzie was a temporary anomaly in his self-contained life. She needed a break and he could tolerate having her around for a few days as long as she didn’t start in on him with questions about the business or why he was a loner.

Finished detailing his sister’s minivan, he parked it next to the cars he was ready to sell. While he’d been out with the tow truck, Mitch had called, claiming to have a buyer lined up for the Mustang. Stephen hoped his brother closed the deal on that one soon. The upholstery and paint alone had cost them a small fortune.

He tried to work up irritation over having it sit here and failed. The car looked amazing and they’d get their asking price eventually. The swell of pride in the work drained enough of the persistent tension out of his neck and shoulders that when his mom’s sassy red sedan pulled through the open gate, he managed a rare smile.

“Happy Saturday, sweetheart,” she said, drawing him into a hug. “You look good.”

Her hugs never changed, no matter what was happening in his life. She must have just come from the salon, he realized, as a wave of feminine scents swept over him. Her hair was sleek and smooth and the gray effectively hidden by a perfect application of ash-blond color. “You look great, Mom.”

“Nice of you to notice.” A little pink warmed her cheeks as she beamed at him. “Hopefully, your father can be persuaded to take me out tonight.”

Stephen didn’t think it would be much of an effort. His parents were still in love after all this time and the challenges life tossed at them. While he knew that wasn’t in his future, he valued the rare treasure of their relationship. “Car trouble?”

“Not a bit.”

Her gaze slid past him toward the office and he realized his sister had tipped her off that a woman had been here. Answering phones and relaying messages. Stephen managed not to roll his eyes at his mother’s obvious agenda. “If you’re looking for someone in particular, she isn’t here.”

His mom’s expression fell so fast he felt terrible for busting the bubble of hope wreathing her face. “What do you mean?”

“Please.” He walked toward the office, urging her to come out of the heavy, late afternoon heat. “Megan called you, right?”

Myra nodded.

“There’s nothing to it, Mom. I’m just helping out one of Mitch’s friends. She had car trouble.”

“You’re helping Kenzie Hughes,” she stated.