Authors: Tawdra Kandle
I tried to keep my eyes from straying to Meghan’s chest, where the deep V of her neckline was riding low and tight over a really nice set of breasts. Her black shirt was hiked up around her stomach, revealing a strip of skin above her short denim skirt. She was taller than her friend, for sure; the top of her head reached my chin. Or would have, if it weren’t bobbing around at the moment.
I boosted her into the truck, careful to keep my hands at her waist over fabric, not touching skin or her ass. Laura climbed into the other side and settled her in the middle seat, fastening the seat belt and then going around to sit on the passenger side. I went back to tighten the winch and put the Honda into neutral. When I got into the driver’s seat of the truck and started up the engine, Meghan’s head lolled to the side, resting against Laura.
I pulled out onto the road, watching the towed car to make sure everything was holding. I was glad Boomer’s wasn’t too far away, since towing the car made me nervous. I thought I’d made the right connections and tightened the chains, but since I didn’t do this often, I wasn’t positive.
The tight quarters in the cab didn’t make it any easier. The redhead next to me was breathing loudly, and her leg was pressed against mine. I could feel the heat of her skin through my jeans. Her hand was flopped palm-up on her thigh, fingers twitching in her sleep.
“Does she do this often? Get smashed?” I kept my eyes on the road and tried to keep the judgment out of my voice.
“No.” Laura shook her head. “She had a rough week. Actually a rough year. Her dad died almost two years ago, and last fall, her mom got re-married, to one of their best friends. Meghan likes him, but you know ... it’s still difficult. This week would have been her dad’s birthday, and we had a school break, so she went home. She got back this afternoon. I think that’s why she wanted to just forget everything tonight.”
I nodded. If there was one thing I understood, it was grief and wanting to escape from it, any way I could. My preferred method had been hard work and avoidance, but I remembered my fair share of drunken nights, too.
We turned onto Central Street. A few blocks in, I slowed and eased the truck into Boomer’s parking lot. I pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door. “Stay here until I get the car unhitched. I’ll get you set up in the loaner in a minute.”
It didn’t take me long to disconnect the chains and push the small blue car into a spot alongside the chain link fence. I retrieved the keys and locked it up, hesitating a minute before I went back to my truck.
Laura had opened her door and was watching me. I pointed to the small office on the side of the garage.
“So listen. I don’t want to offend you, but I need to say this. Boomer’s a trusting guy. Everyone in town knows where he keeps his keys and how to get into the office, but we don’t talk about it to outsiders. I think you’re okay, which is why I’m taking a chance on letting you use the car. But don’t tell anyone about this. You might think it’s funny and all, but one of your frat boy friends gets drunk and decides it’d be funny to come down here and take advantage of Boomer by trashing his office or stealing his cars ... that’s not cool.”
Laura frowned. “I won’t say anything. I get it. Believe me, I’m just grateful for what you’re doing.”
I nodded and went back to the office door, reaching high to find the key along the top of the molding. The door opened easily, and I stepped into the cluttered office. Dropping the keys to the Honda onto the desk, I found a small piece of paper and wrote, “Honda. Needs new serpentine. Laura—”
I leaned out the door, calling through the dark. “Hey, I’m sorry, what was your last name again? And your phone number? I want to leave Boomer all the information.”
“Swanson.” She rattled off the number and I noted it, tucking the paper beneath the keys. The set that belonged to an ancient Chevette were hanging on a nearby hook, and I grabbed them before locking the door behind me again.
“Okay, let’s get you on your way.” I stood in the open driver’s side door. “Why don’t you shove her a little more my way, and I’ll just carry her to the car?”
“You sure?” Laura’s eyebrow rose.
“Yep, it’ll be easier all around. Here.” I handed her the Chevette keys. “Go open it up, and I’ll bring her over.”
I slid my left hand beneath Meghan’s knees and at the same time wrapped my right arm around her back and tugged her toward me. She moaned as I lifted her off the seat, settling her against my chest.
Wide green eyes, clouded with confusion, stared up at me. She struggled to free her arm where it was pinned between her side and my stomach. When she could move it, she reached up and touched my face.
I couldn’t jerk back, even though the feel of her fingers on my jaw, coupled with the tantalizing view of cleavage I was getting from this vantage point, sent unsettling feelings down my body.
“It’s you,” she murmured, and the whisper only added to my arousal. Her lips curved into a smile before her eyes shut again.
I stood rooted to the ground for a minute. I couldn’t remember where I was supposed to go or what I was supposed to be doing.
“Hey, are you all right?” Laura had opened the passenger side of the Chevette, but now she walked over to me. “She’s okay, isn’t she?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I was just making sure I had a grip so I didn’t drop her.” I strode over to the car and eased Meghan onto the seat. She made a small sound, almost like a kitten, and her hand trailed down my chest on its way to settle in her lap. The jean skirt had hitched up until I could almost see her—
“Thanks, I’ll get her buckled in.”
I jumped as Laura spoke from behind me. Gritting my teeth, I stepped back and let her through.
“Let me have your cell phone.” I held out my hand after she’d shut the passenger door. “I’ll put in my number, just in case. I think the Chevette’ll get you back to Savannah without a problem, but better safe, right?”
“Yeah.” She was quiet as I punched in the numbers. “And someone will call me when the car’s ready?”
“Boomer’ll probably get in touch Monday. Garage is closed tomorrow, of course, but he’ll give you a call, let you know how much it’ll be with parts and labor. And then you can just trade out the cars when it’s fixed.”
“That works.” She took back her phone from me, tucking it in her pocket, and then stuck out her hand. “Thanks again, Sam. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t been driving down that road. You’re a lifesaver.”
“No problem.” I shook her hand and focused on not looking into the car, where Meghan was stirring in the seat. “Drive safely going back.”
“Will do.” Laura smiled and climbed into the Chevette. I watched while she started it up and pulled out of the lot before I returned to my truck.
Images of green eyes and tousled red hair flashed in my brain as I headed home—again—but I ignored them. It had been a long time since I’d been tempted by a girl, and this one, I knew for sure, wasn’t for me. A college girl, one who came with baggage and apparently partied a little too hard sometimes ... nope. I shook my head to clear it.
I’d go home, have a bracing cold shower, and then I’d forget all about her. After all, it wasn’t like I’d ever see her again.
“PLEASE TELL ME THERE’S coffee. And maybe something to chop off my head. Oh my God, make the pain stop.” I stumbled into the living room, one hand over my eyes to hide from the light pouring in through our large windows and the other reaching out for anything that might help me stay upright.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Laura’s voice held laughter and way too much peppiness for this time of day.
“Fuck the morning. Coffee, if you love me at all.”
I heard the clink of the glass pot as I pulled myself onto a stool and dropped my head onto the breakfast bar, covering it with my arms.
“Since of course I love you, here it is. Hot and strong. Just like that dude you brought home last night.”
I straightened up so fast the room spun, panic gripping my heart. “God, are you freaking kidding me? Where is he? You’re joking, right?”
Laura collapsed against the counter opposite me, holding her middle. “Oh, you should have seen your face. Priceless. Absolutely priceless. Drink your coffee before you knock it over.”
I reached for the mug and glared at her. “You’re a bitch, you know that? A mean, lying bitch. God, you almost gave me a heart attack.”
“It wasn’t that far-fetched. You wanted to take Mr. Sexy Cowboy home, don’t you remember? You tried to talk me into it. Hell, he tried to talk me into it.”
“Mr. Sexy Cowboy?” I frowned, trying to remember. The guy who’d been sending me smolders across the room had asked me to dance, as I had predicted. He’d bought me a drink ... maybe two ... and then we’d danced some more. There was a slow song, and I’d felt his fingers at the waistband of my skirt, slipping down over my ass. I didn’t remember anything after that.
“Yeah, he was, um, motivated. I had to tell him that you and I were both nuns, and that we’d run away from the convent for one last night of forbidden fun before we took our vows, but that now we had to go back or God would smite us. And him, if he didn’t just let you go.”
I sipped the coffee, almost moaning in appreciation. “Damn, this is good. So he bought that? He actually believed you?”
One side of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. “I was very convincing. I almost cried. Plus, the guy might have been Mr. Sexy Cowboy, but he wasn’t Mr. Smart Cowboy. He had more brawn than brain cells.”
“Nice, Lo.” I took another drink and hummed. “Well, thanks for getting me out of there and making sure I got home safely. I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass.”
Laura raised her eyebrows. “So you don’t remember the rest of the evening at all? The part where your car died in the middle of a very dark, very lonely stretch of country road, and the auto service couldn’t send anyone out to us? And where we were rescued by a really nice guy, who towed your car to the nearest garage and then arranged for us to have another car so we could get home?”
My brows knit together. There was a vague familiarity about what she was saying. I could almost remember her leaning over me, saying something about a belt, and then walking along the side of a road and getting jettisoned into a truck. Then the rest of her words registered.
“My car? Where’s my car?” I slid out of the seat and ran over to the window. Or I sort of ran; I fast-walked, because my head still wasn’t quite sure it was going to stay on my shoulders, and I didn’t want to risk it falling off.
In the spot assigned to the sweet little blue Honda my dad had bought me before I started college sat an old ugly brown car. I turned back around. “What did you do with it?”
“Weren’t you listening to me? It’s at a garage in Burton. That’s the loaner. Calm down, Sam said it shouldn’t be too long. Boomer’s going to call me on Monday.”
“Who the hell is Sam? And what’s a Boomer?” I was hung-over and my car was stuck in some stupid little town in the middle of nowhere. I was entitled to be a little irritable.
“Sam is the wonderful man who stopped to help us last night. Boomer is apparently the owner of the garage, and the mechanic who’s going to make your precious car like new.”
“Hmm.” I turned back and flopped onto the couch. “Do we trust a man named after an explosive?”
“Since he was our one and only choice, we trust him implicitly. And we will thank him for his kindness when we go back to get the car this week. Or rather, you will. Since I had the fun of getting through last night while you were passed out in the front seat, you get to handle car retrieval.”
“Awesome. I can hardly wait.” I paused as another image flashed across my mind. “This Sam ... what did he look like?”
Laura shrugged. “I don’t know. It was dark out there, you know. Um, I think his hair was light brown, maybe almost blond? He was kind of tall. But then everyone looks tall to me. Pretty built, I guess. Why?”
“I think I sort of remember him.” But in my memory, I was looking up into the deepest brown eyes I’d ever seen, watching my own hand stroke the side of his face. With a pang, I recalled touching his skin, how the soft stubble had felt beneath my fingertips. Which was ridiculous, because if I couldn’t remember leaving the bar last night, let alone the car breaking down, how on earth could I still picture those eyes?