Catch a Falling Star (15 page)

He waited as she took a gulp of water. Swallowed. Stared at the mostly empty wooden tool bench on the opposite wall of the garage.

“Yeah, yeah, we did.” She tilted the water bottle to her lips again for another long drink. “I spent most of my weekends during high school rebuilding that Jeep with my dad. Good times.”

Griffin watched Kendall's profile. He could guess what life had been like for a girl like Kendall Haynes back in high school. Someone who was smart and cute and wasn't afraid of an engine. He bet her phone rang nonstop. She probably worked on the Jeep during the day, cleaned up, and then went out on dates every Friday and Saturday night. But then she must have decided she wanted a career more than family.

Just like Tracey.

Kendall's soft voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

“My dad was a mechanic.” Warmth lit the gray of her eyes. “First in the army. Then he opened his own shop. He loved
working on cars. Trucks. Jeeps. My mom used to say he would have slept in the shop if she hadn't called and reminded him to come home every night.”

As she talked, she tore bits of the label from the water bottle, letting the pieces fall to the cement at her feet.

“He died when I was eighteen. It was two months before I graduated from high school.” She stared past him, seeming to focus on the red Jeep parked along the curb. “We'd just finished rebuilding the CJ5.”

She bit her bottom lip, her eyes closed for one second. Two. Three. What was she remembering?

“He asked me to go get him a glass of water . . . he was, um, thirsty, you know? I didn't rush. It was such a beautiful day. Sun shining. Breezy. I'd been in the garage since early that morning and I thought,
Take your time.
” She sniffed. Rubbed the bridge of her nose with her index finger. “I always thought maybe if I had been quicker . . .”

Griffin kept himself still. He didn't know what to say, was afraid to interrupt such a fragile memory.

“When I got back to the garage I couldn't see my dad . . . he'd fallen down . . . nothing I said, nothing I did helped. I ran back to the house, yelling for my mom. For my brother and sister.” She inhaled a breath that shook her shoulders. “He died while I was in the kitchen getting him a glass of water. I still remember walking across the stage to get my high school diploma. Looking out at the crowd, expecting to see him smiling at me. Cheering me on. Calling me ‘Ken-girl.' ”

When she stopped talking, the silence between them grew. What could he say? “Sorry” seemed so . . . useless. The woman shared something personal with him and he sat there like an idiot. What would Doug say?

Kendall saved him from having to figure out what to do or not do by rising to her feet and tossing the empty water bottle into the blue recycling bin by the stairs.

“Well. I apologize for that.”

“No need—”

She waved off his comment. “Griffin, it's okay. I can't help thinking about my dad when I work on a Jeep. Occupational hazard.”

She held out her hand, offering to help him up. “If there's one thing my dad taught me, it's to take care of your tools. Come on, Walker.”

He clasped her hand and allowed her to pretend to haul him to his feet. Doing so only served to emphasize how much taller he was than Kendall Haynes. Her head only came up to the middle of his chest.

“Mutt and Jeff.” Kendall tilted her head back and squinted up at him as if he were a long, long way above her.

“What was that?”

“We look like Mutt and Jeff. Which is why I never like dating guys a lot taller than me. We look like a cartoon couple.”

Really? That's not what he'd been thinking at all.

Not that he'd ever allow himself to date a career woman like Kendall Haynes.

Once had been enough. And the first time he was stupid enough to marry the woman.

“Y
ou two finished yet, Griffin? I'm ready to go look for cars.”

Ian Walker hurtled into the garage pulling a black sweatshirt over his head and slamming the door behind him.

“Did you even shower?” Griffin walked toward his brother as he gave him a once-over, providing Kendall a chance to refocus. Despite her offhanded comment to Griffin Walker, he'd been anything but a cartoon character the last few minutes.

“Yep.” Ian shook his head in a motion reminiscent of Sully after a bath. Drops of water from his hair dampened Griffin's face. “Even used soap. Didn't have time to shave, though.”

“Right.” Griffin wiped his hand across his jaw. The man had an attractive profile. Rugged. And she was noticing this because . . . ?

“Hey—” Ian swung a playful punch at his brother.

“Save it.”
Griffin caught Ian in a headlock, reminding Kendall of the times Tanner and her dad used to wrestle in the living room—until her mom yelled at them to stop.

“So is Dr. Kendall going with us?”

“I think I've monopolized enough of Kendall's time today.” Griffin half turned toward her again. “She doesn't want to go car shopping with us.”

“Didja even ask?”

Kendall couldn't resist the urge to tease Griffin. “Yeah. Didja even ask?”

A smirk twisted Griffin's full mouth. “What? You want to go look at a Jeep with me and Ian?”

Did she? It was that, or go back home and pay bills. “Sure. I'll never turn down the opportunity to go check out a Jeep.”

Ian whooped as if his favorite NFL team just won a play-off game. Griffin paused mid-stride.

“Right. Now you're going to want to go home and ‘freshen up,' right? Trade in your cowboy boots for another pair of ridiculous high heels—”

“Hey! What do you have against high heels, Walker?” Kendall surveyed her outfit, dusting off the seat of her pants and straightening the hem of her top. “There, ready to go.”

“No shower? No freshening up your makeup?”

“We're going to look at a Jeep, not meet royalty. I'm fine. What about you?” She inspected Griffin's outfit of a worn pair of jeans topped with a faded gray flannel shirt that fit his broad shoulders well. Whoever decided flannel shouldn't be limited to women's winter pajamas was a wise person, indeed.

“Let me grab my car keys—”

“Leave your Big Boy at home, Walker. I'll drive. Where are we heading? If we've got time, I'd like to run by and do a quick check on Sully.”

Griffin seemed to consider her offer. “Monument Motors just up I-25 north. Heard of it?”

“Actually, I have. And my house is on the way. My nurse practitioner and his wife bought their last car from there. But I thought they handled Subarus.”

“Mostly—but they get the odd car or Jeep as trade-ins.” Griffin stood half inside his house, half inside the garage. “Let me go get my wallet and coat.”

Ian followed Kendall to her Jeep. What was she thinking, hanging out with the Walkers? Whatever it was, this wasn't about Griffin. She wasn't attracted to the handsome, brooding man with the secretive past—and a teenage brother. That guy had never figured in any of the fairy tales Mina read to her. This was about building a friendship with Ian. She knew all about being a teenager and losing a parent.

After checking on Sully—and cleaning the grease streaks off her face and hands—they drove through Starbucks and grabbed drinks and finally headed to Monument.

Griffin surveyed her Jeep. “Not bad for a CJ5.”

“What do you mean, not bad?” Kendall patted the slate-colored dashboard. “My father and I put a lot of time and effort into this Jeep. He wanted to put on thirty-three-inch wheels, but with the short wheelbase it sounded like the perfect setup for rollovers. So I stick with thirties.”

“I prefer my CJ7.”

“The one that keeps leaving you on the side of the road? The one that we just spent the morning working on?”

“I haven't been able to keep up with working on my Jeep. Been busy.”

Ian leaned forward so that half his body was wedged between the two front seats. “Hey, don't blame your Jeep problems on me.”

“I didn't blame it on you, Ian. I was busy before you got here.”

“Uh-huh.” His brother slumped back, arms crossed over his chest.

Kendall and Griffin made brief eye contact as Griffin gave a slight shrug. Maybe Kendall could help reestablish a better relationship between the brothers by the time they got to the car dealership.

“So . . . tell me about this Jeep you're considering buying.”

“It's a Cherokee—an ‘indoor.' Got some new parts. Decent mileage. I think it would make a good first one for Ian. Of course, he'll need to drive it, see how he likes it.”

Silence from the backseat.

“Sounds good.” Kendall raised her voice, trying to include Ian in the conversation. “Have you looked anywhere else?”

“Ian and I looked at the want ads. There are some options there, too, but one of the guys at the office said this place is trustworthy.”

Kendall looked at Ian through the rearview mirror. The teen sat and looked out the window. “So, Ian, you interested in a Jeep?”

“I guess.”

Maybe a change of topic would help.

“How's the science project coming?”

“Pretty good.”

“If you need any help, let me know. I'm available.”

Kendall didn't miss the moment's hesitation before Ian replied. “Sure.”

By the time they got to the car dealership, she managed to get Ian laughing over some ridiculous YouTube videos of stunts gone wrong. Griffin sat in silence. What, he didn't like You-Tube?

The wind whipped around them as the trio walked toward the office building, offering a hint of impending snow. Kendall looked toward the mountains to the west. Gray-tinged clouds hovered over Pikes Peak, a sure sign that a storm was on the way. They'd likely have snow by nightfall. Or not. This close to the foothills, you never knew where the forecasted snow would actually show up.

Within minutes, they were looking at the rust-colored Jeep. It looked clean, and Kendall caught the whiff of the just-washed and -vacuumed smell as Griffin opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. He motioned to his brother. “Ian, you get behind the wheel.”

“Me?”

“Sure. If we decide to buy it, it'll be your car, not mine.”

Kendall stood off to the side, watching the brothers interact. When Griffin made eye contact with her, she gave him a thumbs-up. A saleswoman wearing a vivid yellow down vest handed Ian the keys. “Do you want to drive it, check it out?”

“Can I?”

“I need a license and then I'll put a dealer tag on the Jeep. You're good to go.”

“Sweet.”

“You do have to bring it back.” The saleswoman tugged on the key, a playful smile on her face.

“Sure.”

Griffin motioned Kendall over. “You brave enough to come along? You could wait in the office, enjoy a cup of coffee instead of risking your life.”

“I never miss the opportunity to ride in a Jeep. Besides, I taught my brother to drive.” She climbed into the backseat, memories of instructing Tanner in the finer points of a stick shift washing over her.

“You're a good sport.” Griffin buckled his seat belt after handing over his license, waiting while the woman checked Ian's license, too.

“I'm sure Ian's a reliable driver. I'm good.”

She settled back and watched Griffin and Ian prepare for the test drive.

Griffin insisted that Ian look over the dashboard, checking out the basic controls. “You do know how to drive a stick, right?”

“Kinda.”

“Kind of?”

“Well, yeah. Dad had taught me, but I usually drove Mom's automatic, so I'm probably gonna be rusty.”

Kendall bit back a grin. This was going to be fun.

She knew it took all of Griffin's willpower not to grab hold of the dash as Ian pulled out of the parking lot, the Jeep lurching as if it were having convulsions. Her own fingers gripped the edge of the seat, her eyes locking with Griffin's in the rearview mirror.

“So, where to?”

For a moment, everything was blessedly still as Ian waited for instructions.

“Let's stay off the highway for now. Turn left and let's go up Highway 105 toward Palmer Lake. Take it easy on the curves. You're just seeing how the car handles, not racing.”

“Sure thing.”

While Ian drove, Griffin checked the radio, the wipers, the heater and AC—or at least tried to. After bumping his head on the dash when the Jeep sputtered to a stop at a red light, Griffin settled back in his seat. Kendall had to give him credit for not throwing instructions at Ian about how to handle the Jeep. She kept a tight rein on her own words. Ian was Griffin's brother, not hers.

As Ian concentrated on operating the clutch, Griffin shifted in the seat so he could look at her. “So your brother is younger than you?”

Kendall answered his unspoken questions. “His name's Tanner. He's five years younger than me. And then there's my sister, Bekah. She's ten years younger than me.”