I slid under the sheets, drawing them up to my chin. Unbidden, the image of the stranger came to mind. His powerful build. His rich voice. How gently he had held me in his big hands. The way his mouth worked mine. How lost I had felt in his arms.
And yet, strangely at home.
I rolled over and punched the pillow. I had to stop thinking about him again. Chances were, I would never see him again. And if I did, I needed to turn and walk the other way.
Once bitten, twice shy.
I ignored the little voice that whispered the stranger could be different.
I couldn’t take that chance. I had too much to lose.
I shut my eyes, determined to sleep.
That was easier said than done.
CHAPTER FOUR
Stefano
Monday, I kept making excuses to drop in to the front office. I told myself it was because I needed coffee, but even Charly called me on my BS.
She looked up at me, her green eyes wise. “The coffee isn’t located on the appointment page, Stefano. What are you looking for?”
I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. “Ah, anyone call today about needing a tire? A new customer?”
She narrowed her gaze. “Maybe.”
“I, um, helped someone Saturday night. Gave them the number here. Just idle curiosity.”
“Was it a woman?”
I stepped closer. “She called? Did you fit her in soon? The tire was really bad.”
She grinned. “I knew it. Coffee, my ass. Holy moly, you liked her.”
I frowned. “I did not. Like I said, the tire was really bad. It came to mind, and I was just following up on it.”
Charly’s eyes danced with glee. “Maxx calls me a bad liar. If your ears got any redder, they’d be on fire. You want to know if she’s coming in.”
“She shouldn’t be driving on it. It’s dangerous.”
She leaned back. “And you’re worried.” She waggled her eyebrows. “What will you give me to tell you if she is coming in?”
“Stop chapping my ass,” I growled. “Did she make an appointment?”
Charly tilted her head, regarding me. “Well, she called—if it’s the same woman. She said she had a flat and thought she needed a new tire. I’m calling her back with a quote.”
“What’s her name?”
She shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Not telling. That’s private.”
I glared at her and ran a hand through my hair. “Look, Charly. The tire was toast. She’d driven on it and damaged the rim badly. There is no doubt she needs a new one.” I paused and huffed, recalling her statement about going to whatever place was the cheapest for oil changes. “I got the feeling she didn’t have a lot of money to fix it.”
She frowned. “What do you want me to do?”
“We have a bunch of tires out back. There’s one that would fit. I checked it. Give her a deal and charge me the rest.”
Her eyes widened.
“She reminded me of my sister Gianna,” I lied. “I would like to think if she was in trouble, someone would help her. And I think she needs help.”
Not that she would accept it, I added silently.
“Your sister,” she repeated.
“Yes. My sister.”
“Okay then, Stefano. I’ll tell her it’s her lucky day and we have a used one in stock. I’ll give her a decent price and make sure she’s looked after.”
“Thanks.”
Charly turned to her computer, then glanced over her shoulder. “Anything else?”
“No.” I turned to leave, then paused. “Charly?”
“Yeah?” she replied, her voice amused.
“Could you, ah, just give me the heads-up when she’s here?”
“Because you want to make sure we look after your sister-type-friend?”
“Yes,” I ground out.
“I can do that.”
“Thanks,” I snapped.
Her laughter followed me all the way back to the restoration area.
I flung myself into my chair and rubbed my eyes. I shouldn’t have even asked—but I couldn’t stop thinking about the woman I’d kissed.
I felt an odd need to somehow help her. The instinctive knowledge she would refuse any offer I made—much the same way she didn’t want me to change her tire—persisted, but I had to try.
When I had gotten home on Saturday, I found the house empty, Brett out with friends. I stewed most of the night, worried if the woman had made it home. Wondering if she would call the garage. Pondering the idea of dropping by the local Mr. Lube to ask if she had shown up there.
Except that would make me a stalker.
And the fact was that I didn’t chase after women. I wasn’t in the market for a relationship, and from the way she brushed me off, neither was she.
But that kiss…
It was etched in my memory. The feel and taste of her. The softness of her body against mine. The way her lips molded, pliant and soft, moving with my mouth.
Dammit, I wanted to kiss her again.
And more.
Sunday, I had been distracted—and grateful for Brett’s presence. My family liked him a lot and hadn’t seen him for a few weeks, so they bombarded him with hundreds of questions. Even luckier was the fact that my sister Izzy was determined to set him up with a friend, rather than focusing on me. I was beginning to hope they had determined I was a lost cause and would direct their attention on to Brett for a while. He was actually a year older than I was. Surely a thirty-five-year-old needed the help more?