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In Your Arms
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O'Learys series, now available!
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More Than This
A Good Time
Something to Prove
Catch Your Breath
Just a Taste
Hold Me Close
“Damn it.” Emma stared at the plume of steam snaking up through her hood and popped the lever before slamming her car door. She'd been doing so well today. Not one curse word, not even under her breath. Not even after her heart-to-heart with her boss to talk about the importance of making sure kids showed up on the first day of school. Not after waiting for a roomful of parents to show for back-to-school open house only to be greeted with three. Out of twenty-six.
Hard to convince parents their kids shouldn't miss school when the parents aren't interested. They didn't care if funding got cut or if she lost her job.
She'd managed to keep her frustration in check through all of that. But this, her car, might drive her over the edge, especially since Nicky assured her he'd fixed the hose. As she levered the hood up to assess the problem, she prayed she wouldn't have to kill her brother for taking her money and lying to her. She paced and waited for the engine compartment to cool so she could test her theory. The sight didn't make her day any better.
“Goddamn fudge monkey.” The halfway-improvised curse did nothing for her. No, this was definitely one of those situations where she shouldn't feel guilty about using all five of her allotted swear words at once. “Fucking lying piece of shit asshole.” Then she kicked the bumper but almost lost her balance because of the stupid heels she wore to look professional.
Stomping back to the driver's seat, she reached in for her phone and called Nicky only to get his voice mail. She inhaled deeply and forced a softer tone. “Hey, Nicky. Guess what? I'm sitting on the side of the highway right now with steam
pouring
from my radiator. You know anything about that? 'Cause you should. I paid you to replace the hose. Yet I'm looking at the same damn hole.”
So she'd exaggerated the trickle of steam, but she needed Nicky to understand how pissed she was. She should've just taken care of it herself. She knew how to fix it. High school shop class taught her a few things. Her boyfriends had taught her more. But Nicky needed cash and she hated fixing anything on her car, so she'd paid him to do the work. She hadn't considered that he wouldn't do it. Tossing her phone back on the seat, she stood and thought about her options. Calling the auto club would mean waiting at least an hour. They never rushed anywhere. Glancing down at the clothes she wore, her only good suit, she knew if she attempted a temporary fix to get off the expressway, she ran the risk of ruining it.
She took her keys from the ignition and opened the trunk to look for duct tape. Once the engine cooled she could seal the hole and get to a shop. She dug through the junk that had mysteriously accumulated in the trunk. An old blanket, an empty box of animal crackers, and her emergency kit. She unzipped the pouch to find two bandages and antibiotic ointment. No flares, no cables, and of course, no duct tape.
Her first boyfriend, who had taught her to drive, gave her an emergency kit. Her second boyfriend had taught her the value of carrying duct tape. Knowing Nicky, he probably swiped it one of the many times he'd borrowed her car. The least he could've done was tape the hole. She slammed the trunk shut and couldn't resist calling her brother an asshole one more time. By her count, she was now two over her allotment for cursing.
As she moved back to grab her phone to call the auto club, a motorcycle rumbled close to her location and pulled off the road. Great. Just what she needed: another guy to add to the mess that was her day.
He cut the engine and swung a leg over the bike to dismount. The tight jeans over black boots and topped with a stretched white T-shirt weren't lost on her. He took off his helmet and Emma braced herself for what would surely follow. He'd come over and hit on her and she'd get more pissed off. Just as she thought about reaching in her bag for her pepper spray, he turned around and smiled at her while running a hand through his short hair.
With the setting sun off to the side, his face was lit with a glow and amazingly blue eyes stared at her. His smile wasn't a bit lecherous. Just friendly.
“Hey. Need some help?” He took only one small step closer. He looked her up and down and waited for a response.
“No. It's a hole in my radiator hose.”
One eyebrow lifted. As if she shouldn't be able to diagnose the problem. Men.
“Can I take a look?”
She waved her arms out. “Go ahead.” At least while he was under the hood, she'd have time to get her pepper spray and her phone.
Sitting on the edge of the driver's seat with her feet tapping, she waited on hold with the auto club. Blue Eyes came closer to the door and cleared his throat. She glanced at him.
“You're right. It's the hose. Only a small hole, but it needs to be replaced.”
No duh. “Thanks. I'm calling the auto club now for a tow.”
“Do you have a shop you want to get it to?”
“Wherever they tow me is where I'll go.”
“If you want, I can do a temporary fix and take you to the shop I work at. It's only about a mile off the highway. It'll save you towing fees and you can get out of here now.”
She sighed as the easy listening music played in her ear. Climbing from the car, she said, “I already thought of that. My duct tape is missing from my trunk.”
He laughed. “Something tells me I should be worried about a chick who carries duct tape in her trunk.”
She suddenly realized how bad that sounded and laughed too. Nothing about this day was going right. “I have it for emergencies, not to tie up my captives.”
He crossed his arms, causing his shirt to tighten on his biceps and drawing her eye to a tattoo peeking out. He smiled and added, “Maybe I should take your picture to let my friends know who I'm with in case I disappear.”
Oh, man. He was cute. She really didn't want him to be cute.
“How do you propose to fix it?” she asked.
He flicked a thumb over his shoulder. “With the duct tape I have in my saddlebag.”
“Now who should be worried?” The words slipped without her thinking about the fact that she was flirting. She knew better. She really did.
His smile slipped and his face became serious. “Feel free to keep your distance. I'm just doing what I hope someone would do for my sister if she was stuck on the side of the road. Besides, a body won't fit in a saddlebag.”
He turned to his bike and opened the side compartment. Emma waited until he returned with a roll of tape. Leaning on her front fender, she smiled. “Hey, I was kidding. I appreciate this. My brother was supposed to fix this. I thought it was done. I wouldn't have kept driving if I'd known he'd flaked.” Which shouldn't have surprised her at all. Nicky always flaked.
“No problem.” He unrolled a section of tape and tore it with his teeth.
Emma had no idea why she found that sexy, but she did. No, she knew exactly why. This guy was ticking off all the things she loved but avoided because they were bad for her: a motorcycle-riding, tattooed mechanic with a sense of humor and a killer smile.
After wrapping the hose, he pulled a dark blue bandanna from his pocket and wiped his hands. Then he extended his right hand. Another tattoo on the inside of his forearm. A pair of crossed hockey sticks. “Sean.”
She shook his hand, which still bore the grease marks of his work. “Emma.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma. Why don't you start it up and we'll make sure this'll hold?”
She went to the open door and bent to turn the key. The engine roared but no steam puffed out.
He closed the hood. “If you want to take it to another place or have your brother fix it, this'll work for a little while. Don't push it though.”
“If you give me directions to the place you work, I'll take it there now. It only seems fair that you get the job.” She paused, thinking about the time. “Unless you're closed and won't be able to take me.”
“The boss is always there late.”
“I don't want to put you out. You were already nice enough to stop. You can get on with your weekend.” It was late on a Friday night of a holiday weekend. The unofficial end of her summer and she was looking at having work done on her car.
“Not a problem. Follow me.”
She nodded and got back behind the wheel. She watched as he put his helmet back on, covering his slightly messy hair. As she put her car in drive and eased back into the lane, she followed Sean and tried to ease her tight muscles. Even after laughing with him, her tension hadn't dissipated.
The heat in her car was stifling and her clothes clung and pinched at her. She knew it was all in her head, her frustration poking her, but she rolled the window down anyway. They pulled off at the next exit and Emma tried to think how she'd get home. Her mom would be working and couldn't afford to leave. Nicky would never answer his phone now that she'd called him on his garbage. He'd probably dodge her for a week hoping she'd cool off.
Looked like she'd be calling a cab.
True to his word, Sean turned into a lot for a garage a few minutes later. He waved his arm to point where she could park. After turning the car off, Emma grabbed her keys and stuffed her phone and charger in her bag and got out. Sean stood at the back of her car waiting. She handed him the keys.
From the door of the garage, a guy in his forties wearing a blue jumpsuit called, “O'Malley? Thought you were done for the weekend.”
Sean turned to the man. “I am. Brought you a customer.” He turned back to Emma. “That's Dominick. He'll take care of you.”
She followed Sean over and listened as he filled Dominick in on the problem. Dominick wiped his hands on his thighs and pointed to the office. “Let's get your paperwork done. I should be able to get this done by tomorrow afternoon.”
Finally. Something went her way. She turned to Sean before following Dominick. “Thanks again.”
He nodded and turned away.
As she followed Dominick, she considered her options. Mom lived only about a mile away, but the thought of walking in these heels didn't appeal to her. Plus, she'd be stuck at her mom's house all night, which didn't sound any better.
It would take two buses to get to her apartment. In rush hour. The buses would be packed. That left her standing in her heels while surrounded by sweaty bodies. A cab was the way to go, but she hated wasting more money for cab fare.
She authorized Dominick to do the work and walked back out into the warm air. She looked to the street and thought again about walking to her mom's.
“Need a ride?”
Sean's question startled her. She'd figured he'd be long gone by now. “Don't you have something better to do than take care of a woman you don't know?”
He shrugged. “Thought maybe you'd want to get a drink. You look like you could use one.”
“That's an understatement.” The fear of losing her job weighed on her all day. Without teaching, she'd go back to being like her mom. She wanted more than that. She'd worked too hard to go back to that kind of life. She took a deep breath. “Do you really have a sister or did you just say that to put me at ease?”
“I have a sister. Her name is Norah.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled across the screen. He gave her the phone.
A picture of Sean standing next to a girl who could've definitely passed for his sister. They had the same eyes. When she handed the phone back, he added, “I don't lie.”
Emma knew better than to believe him. Guys like him lied. But they were also a ton of fun. And right now, she could use some fun. She needed to forget everything about this day.
* * *
Sean waited for Emma to decide. She shifted from one foot to another. Those heels were fucking sexy but didn't go with the rest of the package. The suit said business, but the shoes said party. Not that he was some shoe aficionado. He'd just spent enough time picking up women in clubs to know that they wore shoes like that to draw attention.
Emma definitely grabbed his attention on the side of the road. Her fury had radiated off her as she beat on her car, slamming doors and yelling at no one. In the ride to the garage, she seemed to have lost some steam.
She looked at the phone still in his hand and then at his bike.
If he wasn't mistaken, he caught the telltale glimpse of longing. He knew that look. Someone who really wanted to be on a bike, like maybe she missed it. The look was familiar because he felt it every time he saw his bike in the middle of winter.
“I'm not really dressed for going for drinks.”
“I'm not complaining.” A chick wearing a suit wasn't his type, but those shoes . . . As a bonus, her short skirt would definitely ride high as she straddled the bike. And him. His blood rushed south with the thought.
“Can we make a quick stop so I can change?”
“You live close?” Not that it mattered. He'd drive her wherever as long as it led to drinks and hanging out.
“No, but my mom does. I can borrow something there. She's only about a mile from here.” She edged closer to the bike.
Sean handed her his helmet. She took it without bitching about messing up her hair. Good thing to know about her. She accepted safety and didn't mind messy hair. He easily thought of similar situations.