Lukas
Why did I have to push her away like that? Jesus. The look on Parker’s face last night was pure fire and I have to admit, it was as sexy as it was shocking. She’s usually all blushes and deer-in-the-headlights eyes, but the way she threw her shoulders back and told me off… fuck.
I get an uncomfortable twist in my stomach when I think about that last comment: “Since I’m so not your type.”
Hearing her say that out loud was like a dagger shoved between my ribs. I doubt it’s a coincidence that those are the words she used. The universe isn’t that kind. I don’t know where she heard it, but I’m fucking kicking myself. I just wanted Lilah off my ass, and now that’s what Parker thinks of me. I drag a hand through my hair. Typical. Speak without thinking, act without planning. That’s just me to a T, isn’t it?
Asher’s phone rings on the other side of the bay but he’s with a customer so I ignore it. Until it starts back up with his annoying ass ringtone. Sighing and muttering curses under my breath, I slide out from under the car I’m working on, but Asher runs across the garage to answer it.
“You could put that shit on vibrate, you know!” I call out as he answers it, silently flipping me the bird. I sit up and grin at my grumpy older brother.
“Hey, Ladybug. What’s up? … Ah, fuck. Where is she? … Wait, is it smoke or steam? … Well, is it on fire? … Yes, it matters very much… Because I can deal with one and the other requires the fire department… No, I’m not being sarcastic… Okay, just text me her number and location. I’ll leave now.”
“Who’s stranded?” I ask Asher. A little tingle of worry crawls up my spine, because I’ve seen (and heard) that piece of shit Parker drives around. I don’t know how it’s still running at this point. I can tell you just by listening to it that it needs new belts, an overhaul on the suspension, an alignment, the transmission is failing, and the wheel bearings are shot. I can’t even imagine how bad it is under the hood.
“Parker. Her car broke down on the side of Petaluma heading out of town.”
“Shit, radiator?”
“Sounds like it. Lilah said she’s covering repairs.”
“Repairs?” I laugh. “She needs a new fucking car.”
Asher shrugs, apathetic, or maybe just not in the mood to fight about it right now. “Either way, I’m going to take the tow truck and pick her up.”
I jump up, the creeper seat flying out from under me and lodging under another car. “I’ve got it,” I tell him, heading for the keys, but he steps in front of me.
“Hold up,” he says. “Lilah asked me to go. In fact, she specifically told me not to let you pick up Parker. I don’t get involved in shit the way the girls do, but I heard you were a Grade A dick last night.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure. “I’ve got this. Text me the info.” I snag the tow truck keys off the hook and jog to the wrecker.
“You better not tell Lilah!” he yells after me.
The sick feeling in my stomach eases up for the first time today and the closer I get to Petaluma the better I feel. I’m practically bouncing in my seat by the time I see her car pulled over onto the shoulder. The good feeling evaporates when I spot Parker sitting a good distance from the car on the gravel shoulder. She has her knees tucked up, hugging them, her head resting on her forearms. She looks so small and sad. And even from a distance, I can see the tear tracks on her cheeks.
She perks up when I pull in in front of the Honda, squinting at the sunlight reflecting off my windshield, relief smoothing the lines on her face. That is until I open the door and step out of the cab.
“You have got to be flipping kidding me! Why are you here? Lilah said Asher was coming!” she yells, wiping the tears from her face furiously.
“Well, you got me,” I reply as I circle the Honda, looking at her out of the corner of my eye. The soft white tank top hugs her curves, her breasts peeking out the top. I have to bite my lip to drag my eyes (and indecent thoughts) away from her and focus on the car. Steam is still coming from under the hood. It’s definitely not smoke and the damn thing isn’t on fire, so that’s good.
“What happened?” I ask as I approach her and hold out a hand to help her up. It’s only now that I’m realizing how dirty I am. My hands are coated in grease and I ran out of the shop in my work coveralls. I’m sure I look every inch the grease monkey.
Parker glares at my hand and then up at me, before standing on her own, eyebrows scrunched in a stubborn expression. I get the impression that’s just her personal aversion to me and less about the state of my hands. Her baby blues hold mine for a beat and I get a hint of that juicy peach smell that seems to float around her. Whether it’s the way she smells like heaven, even on the side of a dusty road, or the defiant look in her eyes, I don’t know, but my dick stirs in my jeans. Real bad timing, bud.
Parker breaks the eye contact first, turning her scowl toward the car. “I don’t know. There was a big clunk, and then a ‘gkgkgkgk,’ something screeched, and then the smoke.” She talks with her hands, miming an explosion before letting her hands fall to her hips. I fight the urge to smile at her description of the sounds, but it’s hard. She’s cute as hell.
“I barely pulled it off the road before it gave out. I called Lilah, who told me she would send Asher. Then, much to my dismay, you turned up instead.”
There we go. That comment took care of any temptation I had to smile. Interestingly, it does nothing to abate the half-chub I’m concealing. Fuck. This is going so much worse than I had expected. I mean, I guess I didn’t expect her to be thrilled to see me; I’m not exactly her favorite person right now. But I came to rescue her. That counts for something, right?
“Parker, I’m sorry about the way I talked to you last night. I was out of line.”
She pauses, taken aback, opening and closing her mouth like she wants to say something but isn’t sure what.
“The A/C is on in the cab,” I tell her. “Why don’t you wait in there while I get your car set up.”
Parker eyes me suspiciously, sweeping her long hair off of her neck. I follow the movement and watch as a little bead of sweat trails down her neck, along the swell of her breast, and down the front of her shirt. It takes everything in me not to haul her against me and trace its path with my tongue. I swallow and blink, shoving the impulse as far down as I can, but when I meet her eyes, the suspicion is gone, replaced with that wide-eyed innocent look I like so much.