Sara’s heart sped up to locomotive speed, and she gripped the strap of her purse, barely able to keep from rushing across the room and tackling him. How in God’s name had she ever resisted him for a minute, never mind months? He sang with complete inhibition. Totally in the moment. Completely absorbed and happy. The way he did everything else.
Especially the way he made love.
She couldn’t keep from grinning while the last notes faded away and the couple of mechanics around Brad laughed and smacked him on the back. Without conscious intention, she started to clap, continuing even when Brad’s head swung sharply in her direction. His eyes widened to take her in, then shifted and narrowed at the sight of the man crowding close to her side.
Ignoring his suddenly tightened jaw, she strode forward and gestured to his battered boots. “So where’s your tip jar? I want to show my appreciation.” The sentiment came out huskier than she’d intended, and she swallowed at the hungry look that stole over Brad’s face.
He set aside the wrench and flicked off the radio. The sudden silence was deafening. His employees, most of them wearing blue overalls and ball caps, had all fallen mute at her and Dustin’s arrival.
She glanced down at her outfit. Yes, she was dressed professionally, but did she stick out that much? She didn’t want to make Brad’s friends uncomfortable.
“In front of all these people? Dr. Carmichael, you surprise me.” Though another smile replaced the one that had fled his face the instant he’d seen Sara, there was no mistaking the hardness of his features as he turned toward Dustin. “Winters. Never seen the likes of you at our humble shop.”
Dustin sniffed. Literally sniffed. “That display you put on could be why.”
Brad’s smile widened. “Aw, come on, man. I was gonna ask you to duet with me. How about ‘The Bitch Is Back’?”
She hid her smirk behind her hand and coughed delicately. “Dustin gave me a ride because my car died. He’s probably got a lot of important things to get to. Don’t you, Dustin?”
Dustin frowned. “Actually, no, I—”
Brad’s amusement disappeared. “Your car died? Where?”
“Not far from here at all. At the bottom of Stockholm Hill.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” He looked from her to Dustin. “Unless you have an arrangement with Winters I don’t know about.”
And the caveman arrives, right on schedule. She lifted a brow. Engaging him in sexually charged banter when there were witnesses wasn’t smart. Hell, when there weren’t witnesses it wasn’t smart either, at least until she came to terms with how she wanted to handle this situation. “I came here to see if one of your techs could go get my car. Is that possible?”
He walked around the counter and grabbed a set of keys off a hook. “I’ll go get your car. The waiting room’s empty.”
‘“We’re about to close—” one of the other mechanics interjected.
Brad silenced him with a look. “You’re off the hook, Masters, and not because it’s quitting time. I’ve got her. Get out of here.”
The guy immediately adopted a hangdog expression any puppy would envy. “Boss, I can stay. Was just saying.”
“It’s all right. I know Brit’s got a big night tonight. Piano recital, right?”
“Yeah. Her first. Her and her momma are about to burst.” The mechanic glanced at Sara and gave her an apologetic smile. “Pardon me, Dr. Carmichael. I got a little ahead of myself.”
“No problem.” She glanced at his nametag and returned his smile. “Enjoy your night, Kevin.”
“Thanks. You sure, boss?”
Brad waved him on. “Hug Brit extra hard for me. Now get out.”
Sara glanced around and realized the rest of the mechanics had vanished. There had only been a handful of them, but they’d scattered like rats. Either because it was quitting time or because Brad had leveled Dustin with some sort of pee-laced death ray that had struck him dumb. Maybe they were afraid of getting hit by stray male pheromones.
“You need a ride back too, Winters?” Brad jingled his keys. “Otherwise, I’d like to get to Sara’s vehicle before dark.”
Dustin looked at Sara as if Brad hadn’t spoken. “Are you sure you’d rather not go to Quickie Lube? Much more professional service there. I’d be happy to drive you.”
“I bet,” Brad muttered.
“No, I’m fine here. Thank you for the ride, Dustin. I appreciate it.”
With a noise that sounded dangerously close to harrumph, Dustin left. His Mustang roared out of the lot a moment later.