Seb (4 page)

“No worries.” I glanced at a framed photo of my brothers and me on Brody’s boat. They’d no doubt have told me I was crazy for doing this, and they’d probably have been right. “It’ll be fun. Nothing I like more than a challenge.” She laughed, and it made me wonder whether she thought I was talking about women instead of cars.

“I’ll just have to call around to see if I can get a good deal on the towing.” She sounded hesitant, almost embarrassed. “There’s just not a lot left in the monthly budget for incidentals after we pay for my uncle’s—”

I should have thought of that. “You know what, let me worry about that.”

“Oh no, you’re already doing so much for me. I couldn’t ask you to—”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” I often had cars towed before they were fit for the road, so I had a guy I trusted. “Just text me the address where my guy can pick up the car, and I’ll have it towed over to my place tomorrow after work.”

“It’s at our place actually. Mrs. Ryan lets us keep it here, in the parking lot. It’s covered with a tarp…”

But exposed to the elements and up on blocks. Great. I could only imagine all the surprises I had waiting for me with this one. “Fine, just text me the address.”

“Seb?” Skylar sounded apprehensive, as though she was weighing her words carefully. “Would it be okay if I followed the tow truck to your place tomorrow night?”

She wanted to come to my place? “Why?”

“Well, I figure the least I could do is bring you dinner to thank you for having the car towed. But I meant what I said—I intend to figure out a way to repay you for doing this. Maybe we could, um, talk about that over dinner, how I might repay you.”

If I was the man I’d been just six short months ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to tell her how she could repay me, but sex was off the table until I knew, beyond a doubt, she was someone I could trust. “You don’t have to do that.”

Though I couldn’t deny a home-cooked meal sounded nice after all the crap I’d been eating lately. At least when I’d been dating, I’d dined in nice restaurants a few nights a week. Now it was strictly takeout. If not for the hours I spent in the gym, sweating out my sexual frustration, I’d probably have been rewarded for my celibacy with a dad bod by now.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. How does lasagna with fresh-baked bread and homemade apple pie sound?”

“It sounds great, but—”

“Please let me do this for you.” Her voice was soft, pleading, giving me no choice but to accept.

I knew her pride was on the line, that she felt bad she couldn’t pay me and wanted to do something nice to let me know how much she appreciated my help. Damn. How could a woman this sweet be a total knockout too? But then, I’d thought the same of Amy, and she’d blindsided me with her malice. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Fine, but you don’t have to wait for the driver to bring the car. Paulie can take care of that on his own. I’ll be home by six, so you can swing by any time after that.”

“Wonderful. I can’t wait,” she said.

Neither could I, which was a serious problem. This was supposed to be about business, nothing more. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

And I
wouldn’t
be counting down the hours like some freakin’ girl anxious for her first date. Man, my brothers were right. I really needed to get laid.

***

The doorbell rang at six fifteen, and I had to force myself to take my time walking across my large house so I wouldn’t seem too anxious.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual as I opened the door.

My mouth went dry as I took in her attire. It was casual enough: black skinny jeans, a tight black long-sleeved T-shirt, and a multi-colored infinity scarf. But those crazy-high heels made me imagine her stretched out on my bed, wearing those and nothing else.

“Hi,” she said, smiling. “Um, can I set this down somewhere?”

I’d been so busy ogling her I hadn’t noticed the stack of food containers she was carrying. “Sure, sorry. Let me take those.”

She followed me inside, closing the door. “Your house is beautiful, Seb.”

“Thanks. One of my brothers is a firefighter, but he has a lot of downtime, so he takes on home improvement projects to keep busy. This place was kind of a dump when I bought it, but Gabe assured me he could work with it.” Thanks to Gabe, the house had turned out even better than I’d hoped. I set the containers on the granite counter before reaching into the stainless steel fridge. “What would you like to drink? Beer, wine, water…?”

“A glass of wine would be nice, but I can only have one glass since I’m driving.”

There was a time when I wouldn’t have hesitated to invite her to spend the night, but I had to keep reminding myself I wasn’t that guy anymore. Too bad Skylar made it so damn easy to forget my good intentions. “Red or white?”

“Red gives me a headache, so I’ll stick with white.” She glanced at the gas stove. “Would you mind if I pop the lasagna in the oven to warm it up?”

“No, go ahead.” I chuckled as I opened the wine bottle. “Just don’t ask me how it works. It’s only there for decoration.”

She smiled as she turned it on. “You don’t like to cook, I take it?”

“No. You?”

“I love to cook.”

God, could she be any more perfect? The girl was dissolving my resolve faster than the budget on one of my cars.

“Here you go,” I said, hoping the cold beer I’d pulled from the fridge along with her wine would help cool me off.

“Thank you.” She touched her glass to my bottle. “To the kindness of strangers. Just shows there’s still a little good left in this big, bad world.”

I was far from a saint, but I was happy to have given her the impression I was one of the good guys. “Why don’t we take this into the other room while we’re waiting on dinner?”

“Perfect. Just let me stick this in the oven and set the timer so I don’t forget about it.”

I watched her bend over to place the lasagna in the oven, and I thought about how sweet it would be to see her leaning over my mattress at that angle. I released a slow breath, hoping she couldn’t tell where my mind was wandering.

“All set,” she said, facing me with a wide grin.

Damn. Those dimples made my heart feel as if it were beating double time. There was something about this woman. I’d dated a lot of gorgeous girls, way more than my fair share, but I’d never had such a visceral reaction to any of them.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, her smile slipping.

“Yeah, sure.” I cleared my throat, thinking if I didn’t get my act together, she would think I had ulterior motives for agreeing to help her.

She followed me into the adjoining family room and sank onto one side of the sienna-colored leather couch while I claimed the other half. We kept a respectable distance between us but faced each other to make conversation easier.

“So tell me how you got into this,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “Fixing cars.”

I laughed at her characterization of my career choice. It involved so much more than fixing cars, but I didn’t expect her to understand that. “When I was a kid, one of our neighbors had this really cool muscle car. He’d be out in his driveway working on it all the time. I’d wander over and ask him what he was doing, and he’d walk me through it, you know—oil changes, changing spark plugs, tune-ups, that kind of thing.”

She nodded, listening intently as though she really cared about my life story. It was a nice change of pace since most women cared more about how much money I made than where I came from.

“Then in high school, I had this shop teacher who was really into cars too. He’d invite me over to his place sometimes to work on a project. It helped keep me off the streets and out of trouble. I guess I just got hooked from there.”

She glanced out the window, no doubt taking in the incredible sunset afforded by the wall-to-wall glass. “My uncle was a high school teacher before he got sick—a gym teacher and coach. I can’t tell you how many of his students have reached out to him to let him know how much of an impact he made on their lives.”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes.” My eyes glided over her silky amber waves, and I wondered if her hair could possibly be as soft as it looked. “One person to believe in you.”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip, obviously trying to keep her emotions in check. “My uncle has always been that person for me. Whenever I questioned whether I could do something, he was right there to tell me I could.”

“I know what you mean.” My voice was soft and husky, filled with emotion. “My brother Ryker was that guy for me. We lost my mom when I was young. Fortunately Ryker was legally old enough to take care of us, so that’s what he did. He wasn’t perfect,” I said, thinking about all of the trouble my big brother had gotten into while trying to earn enough money to keep us all together. “But he taught me what it means to be a man. I’ll always owe him for that.”

“Your dad wasn’t in the picture?” she asked gently.

“Even when he was, we all wished he wasn’t. He was a real deadbeat.” I didn’t know why I was telling her all this. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d opened up to a woman about my upbringing. Maybe it was because she could relate. She could feel my pain.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, tracing a pattern on the knee of her jeans with her fingertip. “My dad was great, but I don’t know… that almost made it harder to lose him. Maybe if he’d been a selfish bastard, it wouldn’t have felt like the end of the world when he died.”

“You said your parents passed away when you were fourteen and your uncle took you in?” This conversation was way too deep for a first date that wasn’t even really a date, but I wanted to understand her better.

“Yeah. My nan would have, but she was too old by then to be caring for a rebellious teenager.”

“I can’t imagine you being rebellious,” I said with a smile. “You’re too damn sweet to give anyone a hard time.”

She sank one hand into her hair, propping her elbow on the back of the couch as her eyes met mine. “I was mad at God and the world for a long time. I didn’t understand why my parents were gone and the drunk bastard who’d taken their lives was still alive. It didn’t seem fair.”

“No, that isn’t fair.” Now I understood why she refused to drink more than one glass of wine when she was getting behind the wheel.

“But we all have our trials to face, right? What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and all that.”

It seemed to me she had already faced her fair share of trials and now she was losing the one person she’d always been able to count on. Didn’t seem fair when I had my crazy brothers on speed dial, always willing to come running when I called.

“You said you’re staying with your uncle?” I asked.

“Yeah, I sold my house to help pay for his medical bills.”

“Wow.” If I’d wondered if she was someone I could respect, I now knew for sure. “That’s a pretty big sacrifice.”

“Not really,” she said, tipping her head. “I’ll always have a chance to make more money and buy another house. I only have one Uncle Charlie, so anything I can do to help him, I’ll do it.”

Damn. The urge to pull her into my arms and comfort her, to kiss her, was so great I had to inch back on the cushion to put more distance between us. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“No, I’m lucky to have him,” she said, her full lips downturned. “He always tells me he’s just glad he got to see me grow up and that his biggest regret is not being able to see me get married and have a family of my own.”

“You want that?” I asked, feeling my heart respond to the possibility. “Marriage and kids?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” she asked, smiling.

I could think of a few of my brothers who might have disagreed with that statement. “Not everyone.”

“No, you’re right. But I do. I was really lucky to grow up with the parents I did. They loved me and each other. So yeah, I guess I’ve always wanted what they had.”

“Have you had many serious relationships?” I was hanging on her every word, cataloguing everything about her.

“Not really. I dated a couple of guys for about a year each. One in college, one since. But I find that’s around the time when you have to decide if the relationship’s going anywhere, and for me, it wasn’t.”

“So you ended it?” I tipped back my beer as I wondered whether this little heartbreaker would do the same to me if I let her.

“Yeah. I still see my college boyfriend from time to time. He lives a few blocks from our apartment.”

“Oh yeah?” Wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that, which was crazy. I barely knew this girl and sure as hell didn’t have any right to act territorial.

“Yeah, he’s married with the sweetest little baby girl named Hailey.”

Good. “Big of you to stay friends with your ex like that. Can’t say I’ve ever felt so inclined.” Probably because most of my exes were greedy bitches who’d still had a hand in my pocket on their way out the door.

“The way I see it, I liked him enough to spend a year of my life in an intimate relationship with him. He’s still the same person he was then, so why wouldn’t I want to be friends with him, right?”

The thought of Skylar being intimate with someone made me strangely uncomfortable. “If you say so.”

She laughed. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve been burned a time or two?”

More like ten, but I’d stopped counting. “Guess I always go for the wrong kind of woman.”

“And what kind of woman is that?” she asked, setting her half-empty glass on the table before tucking her leg under her.

“They care more about appearances than they do about me, that’s for sure.” I was still bitter about my last romantic entanglement, and I knew that was coloring my opinion of all of my previous relationships.

“I find that hard to believe.” She curled her hand around my knee. It was an innocent gesture, but the way my body reacted, you’d have thought she’d made a grab for my package. “You seem like a great guy. I’m sure there’ve been a lot of women who’ve appreciated you.”

I reached for her hand to remove it from my leg, but I found it hard to let go, so I surprised her and myself by holding it instead. “I don’t know about that, but I’m not giving up hope.” Until Skylar had walked into my office, I’d been beginning to think finding someone I could trust was hopeless, but she seemed so sincere, so genuine. I wondered if she was the kind of woman I’d been waiting for.