Dirty Distractions (Afternoon Delight 1)

Her throat moved. “No. But it should’ve been.”

He pushed a hand through his damp hair and vowed to get it cut that afternoon. Maybe he’d shave it all off and tattoo something badass on his scalp. Why not? He didn’t have anyone to answer to but himself.

“All right then. I’m out of here.” He turned away and sneezed, then sneezed again.

“Oh no, did I get you sick?”

“No.” He rubbed his nose and pretended his cheeks weren’t on fire. He’d chalked up his temperature to his overly hot shower, but what did he know? Clearly nada. “See ya.”

He’d made it down three steps when her voice stopped him. “Thank you for my car. I started it and she’s running like a dream. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you?”

He continued down the steps. Looking at her was too damn painful. “No. You’ve already done enough.”

Normally she would’ve avoided Brad until their disagreement faded with the passage of time. Except she happened to have real, strong feelings for him, ones that had made themselves painfully known the instant he’d told her it was over. Plus there were the logistical issues of living with the man who’d broken up with her. Her best friend was acting odd too, which Sara suspected had more to do with her strange behavior outside Brad’s bedroom that morning than Kim’s new boyfriend’s supposed “performance issues”. From what she and Brad had heard last night, he’d performed just fine.

Basically, everything was fucked up, and since she was responsible for some of—most of—the mess, she’d have to figure out how to make things right. Tal

king wouldn’t do it. Empty promises that disappeared when her innate desire to cling to the status quo overrode everything else definitely wouldn’t. She needed to act.

She started with lunch.

At noon, she dropped off five sacks of sandwiches, chips and sodas at O’Halloran’s. When she walked in the door, all conversation stopped like last time. The guys looked up from under the hoods of the cars they were working on and away from their clipboards. And stared.

“Brought some stuff for you all to eat, if anyone’s hungry.” She maintained her mega-watt grin as she dumped her sacks on the counter.

No one moved. Or spoke.

Finally the tech she remembered as Kevin ambled over from the classic Chevelle he had on a lift, scratching his stomach through his misbuttoned work shirt. “Are you looking for Brad? He’s out back talking to a customer.” He aimed a wink over his shoulder at one of the other guys. “Real pretty one too.”

She nearly groaned aloud. Pretty? Already? God, she couldn’t catch a break.

Even so, she wouldn’t lose sight of her objective in coming here. Being with Brad had helped show her that she still lived in a lot of boxes, and the time had come to break free.

She’d visited the shop a few times before yesterday, and his men had always treated her as if she were a possibly hostile visitor from another planet. Always polite, yes, but also wary. Before she’d accepted that as the way things were. Now? It seemed imperative that she make friends with these men. Or at least try.

Still smiling, she reached over the counter to turn up the radio one of the other mechanics had lowered upon her entrance. “I’m looking for all of you, actually. And please, don’t turn off the music on my account. I loved Brad’s show last night.”

Kevin returned her smile. “Yeah, he has this thing about singing near closing time. It started as a joke—now he does it whenever the shop’s empty. Me and the guys join him sometimes. ‘Course only Woody has a decent voice. The rest of us sound like a bunch of warbling cats.”

“Cats in heat,” one of the other guys put in.

Sara laughed. “I don’t believe that. Why don’t you sing something for me?”

“You expect us to sing for our supper, huh?” He leaned in close and added, “Is this payment for that super rush job the boss did for you?”

Was it her imagination or were Kevin’s eyebrows wiggling? “Nope. Just thought some hardworking men needed a good lunch. And maybe I was hoping for a free concert.”

“This ain’t no barbershop quartet, lady.”

Since she could tell Kevin was teasing, she cocked her head and batted her lashes. “Come on, don’t be shy. I’ll sing with you.” The words were out before she could stop herself, then she shrugged. What the hell?

“Oh really? What are you going to sing?”

She flipped the dial on the old-fashioned radio until she came to Aretha Franklin’s “Respect”. She lifted a brow. “How ‘bout it, boys?”

“You heard the lady. Hit it,” Kevin said before starting to sing in a high falsetto that made her laugh again.

A couple of the other guys picked up the song, clearly trying to outdo each other while they worked. True to her word, she sang with them. She even swayed her hips a bit at Kevin’s impatient gesture for her to dance.