And how many times are you going to tell yourself that?
As many times as it takes.
“I’m afraid I don’t. I believe in playing to a person’s strengths. Mechanics are not one of mine. I leave that to the professionals.”
Right. So would she. If she could afford to pay a professional.
“I’ll call Matt for you.” He reached into his pocket to call the local garage.
“No,” she said quickly. “No, I, uh, I’ll call him in the morning
“And how do you propose to get home tonight?”
That was the million-dollar question. Her bank account wasn’t going to stretch to pay for a taxi.
“I guess I’ll take a taxi.” She managed a tremulous smile, imagining a very long walk home in her future.
He eyed her for a moment. “I don’t know you well, but I do believe you just lied to me.”
Shit. How could he tell?
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him, even as her stomach tightened into a knot. At this rate, she was going to give herself an ulcer to go along with everything else that was fucked-up with her life.
“It’s not really any of your business how I get home, is it?”
That eyebrow rose again. Disapproval was written all over his face, and she felt the ridiculous urge to apologize.
“Actually, as a male resident of Haven, faced with a female about to put herself in a dangerous situation, it absolutely is my business.”
“Since when is taking a taxi dangerous?”
“We both know you just lied about taking a taxi. It’s getting dark. How are you getting home, Aspen?”
Drat. He’d used her name. She hadn’t been certain he’d remember it. She hadn’t counted on being that memorable.
You spilled scotch down his shirt, Aspen. How is that not memorable?
Yeah, not her finest moment. She’d been flustered and exhausted after working at the diner then taking a shift at Dirty Delights. She’d been overworked. And it had nothing to do with the man himself? Yeah, right.
“I could call a friend.”
“Good choice.” He nodded. “I’ll wait while you do that.”
Except who could she call? The other waitresses were all nice, but Aspen tended to keep to herself. It was an old habit, learned after years of moving around and having to leave friends behind. Plus, friends tended to want to know something about your life, and there wasn’t much she wanted to share.
She closed her eyes, leaning back against the car, feeling defeated. This wasn’t her. She was a fighter. But there came a time when things just became too much.
And this was one of those times.
Saxon watched as the small female’s shoulder’s slumped. She leaned back against her rusty car, which should have headed for the wrecker’s yard long ago, her eyes closing. Defeat was written all over her face.
He didn’t like it.
He’d thought her quiet and easily frightened. Tonight was fast changing that opinion. Watching her swear at her car, her face flushed, her eyes filled with fire, he’d decided she wasn’t quite the little mouse he’d believed she was. There was a temper in there. And one hell of a mouth. He was a little shocked. Such a tiny female to have so much anger.
Mind you, if he had to drive around in that sardine can he might be angry as well.
Now he felt a bit guilty for causing her to look so defeated. But not guilty enough to leave her alone. He took his responsibilities seriously. Every man in Haven looked out for the women here. Made certain they were safe. He couldn’t do anything about her car, much as he longed to, but he could do something about this. He knew she had no intention of taking a taxi. It was also obvious she didn’t have much money. Her shoes were worn, her car on its last legs and he knew she was raising two children alone.