Breaking the Speed Limit (Reynold's Restorations 2) - Page 6

Finally, I gave in, watching in amazement as he took control, changing the tire with ease. He grunted as he used some cross-looking thing he got from his trunk to loosen the bolts, then made the rest of the work look like child’s play. His form was spectacular as he worked. His ass was tight and high. His arm muscles flexed and bulged. His thighs bunched. He was sexy and strong.

He’d handed me back my jack, calling it a piece of shit, and I’d clutched it against me like a talisman to ward him off. He tossed everything in the back hatch, handing me a business card he’d gotten from his car and giving me yet another lecture on what I should or shouldn’t do when it came to car maintenance.

That got my hackles up yet again. All I wanted to do was get home. I didn’t have the time or patience to explain to him I was doing the best I could. I had a cheap cell phone. No CAA. It was an expense I couldn’t afford. I could barely keep the SUV on the road, but I needed it for work, so I had to give up other things in order to do so.

I offered to pay him for his time, hating to be in debt for anything. Once again, we sparred, then suddenly I was in his arms with his mouth on mine.

I should have exploded with outrage. Stepped back and slapped him. Screamed in his face.

Instead, I kissed him back. Not only did I kiss him, but for one glorious moment, the entire shitstorm my life had been lately disappeared. He held me close, as if I were precious. His mouth was wicked, capable of rendering me a mass of quivering limbs and stirring up emotions I hadn’t felt for a very long time—if ever. Want, desire, and need filled me. I whimpered, and he pulled me closer, his hand cupping the back of my neck firmly, yet with great tenderness.

I was shocked to realize how right it felt to be in the stranger’s arms. How much I wanted to stay there. I was so out of my mind, I kissed him again.

Until reality hit and I pushed back.

His eyes were rich chocolate—deep, dark, and filled with desire. He looked so sexy, his lips wet from mine, his hair disheveled from my fingers. There were red marks on his arm from my nails.

And, my God, I wanted him.

Until he opened his mouth.

“Consider the debt paid,” he murmured, the sound deep and rumbly. He lifted his hand to touch me as my common sense kicked in, and I slapped it away.

“You are so…” I spat.

“Sexy?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting. “Incredible?” He opened his arms, beckoning with his long fingers. “Come back, and I’ll show you how incredible.”

He was both, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of knowing that. Then before he could move, I punched him in the stomach. Hard. Hard enough I felt the ache in my knuckles that would no doubt worsen over the next few hours. He simply glanced down with a smirk.

“You need some boxing lessons as well as some basic car maintenance lessons,” he said. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

Angry, I pushed past him and climbed into the car, slamming the door and locking it. He appeared by the window, tapping on it, but I refused to meet his eyes.

“You need some service on the engine!” he shouted. “Call the garage.”

I flipped him the bird and drove away, scattering gravel behind me. I hoped one of the rocks would leave a mark.

I drove home as if the devil himself were chasing me.

I parked and hurried inside. My landlady was sitting in the rocking chair, busy knitting, the monitor beside her. She looked up with a frown.

“You’re early. Is everything all right?”

I smiled ruefully. “Ziggy is having trouble again. Something with the electrics in the kitchen. We had to close early.” I sighed. “On the busiest night of the week, of course.”

“Of course.” She patted my hand. “These things happen.”

I nodded. “They do. How was he?”

Mrs. Scott smiled. “Good as gold, as usual. He played with his cars and ate his supper like an angel. Even had his bath.”

I handed her some cash, but she shook her head. “No, dear. I was happy to have him today.” She patted my hand again. “You need it more than I do.”

“But…” I began to protest.

She shook her head. “No. I told you the deal. I prefer barter.”

“Laundry?” I guessed. I lived on the top floor of an older house, and Mrs. Scott lived on the main floor. The machines were in the basement, and Mrs. Scott had trouble with stairs. So, I traded off some babysitting for odd jobs like laundry, shopping, cutting the grass. I was even able to do some minor repairs like leaky faucets and stuck windows. She, in turn, looked after Theo when I had the opportunity to pick up extra shifts, which helped me a great deal. Other nights, Mrs. Wilson next door looked after him, then brought him home and tucked him into bed. Her teenagers took turns sleeping on the sofa in case he woke up and needed something, returning to their own place when I got home. Most of the time, they were still awake when I arrived, using my TV to play video games. It was the only time it was ever turned on. I couldn’t afford cable, and if the previous tenants hadn’t left it in the corner, it would never be used. I helped tutor her kids, and she charged me a low price for caring for him. He loved going there, so the arrangement worked out well for now.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Reynold's Restorations Suspense
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