Revved to the Maxx

by Melanie Moreland

  “And she is trying?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand. It’s a personality thing? You dislike her?”

  I drained my coffee. “Not exactly.”

  She studied me. “What aren’t you telling me, Maxx?”

  I met her frank gaze. Mary and I had a solid, if slightly odd, friendship. She was older, widowed, and moved here about ten years ago. She and my mother had become friends, and when I lost my parents, she became almost a surrogate mother to me. I helped her around this place, fixing things. I kept her small truck in perfect running order. She fussed over me, and I allowed it.

  We were also brutally honest with each other.

  “We met Friday night. She came to town early, and I was in the bar having a bite, and we, ah, connected…”

  “Oh, my god. You slept with her.”

  “Yes.”

  “And then you found out the he you thought you hired was a she, and you had already bedded her.”

  “In a nutshell.”

  Mary stared at me, tilting her head. Then she began to laugh. Long peals of laughter that echoed in the kitchen. I glowered at her, not finding this situation funny at all.

  She calmed down, wiping her eyes. “I should have known,” she muttered. “As soon as I saw that asinine ad you placed, it was asking for trouble.”

  “Trouble with a head full of red curls and a smart mouth,” I agreed.

  She studied me. “You like her,” she stated.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do. That’s why you’re reacting this way. You actually like her.”

  “I’m not in the market for a relationship.”

  She reached across the table and clasped my hand. “Maxx, I know what happened shook you. Destroyed your trust. But not everyone is them. Not everyone is out to take from you.”

  “Leave it alone, Mary.”

  She sat back, crossing her legs. “I’m going to come and meet this girl that has you tied up in knots.”

  “No, she doesn’t. She’s just a pain.”

  “Then send her away.”

  “She has nowhere to go. She just got out of a bad situation. I can’t do that to her.”

  She smirked. “Good thing you don’t like her. You might care about her welfare, then.”

  “Okay, fine. I liked Charlynn. She was funny and droll. Sexy. I wouldn’t have slept with her if I didn’t like her.”

  “Aren’t Charlynn and Charly the same person?”

  “No. Charly chaps my ass. She does all these crazy things, and she has the weirdest little expressions.” I waved my hands, fluttering them in the air, raising my voice. “Easy peasy. Holy moly. Chap my…” I let my voice trail off when I realized I had used one of her expressions. Dammit.

  Mary bit her lip to stop from laughing again. “She gets under your skin.”

  “She annoys me.”

  “So, how do you solve it?”

  “I ignore her. She can do her job, I’ll do mine.”

  “How is that working for you so far?”

  “It will be fine.”

  “What room is she in?”

  I squirmed a little in my seat. “She told me to treat her like the guy I thought I hired. So, I’m doing exactly that.”

  Aside from wanting to kiss her all the time. I didn’t share that piece of information. It was a passing phase. Once we put aside the night we shared, I’d be able to ignore her and only see her as Charly. I was convinced of that.

  Mary narrowed her eyes at me, waiting for my response.

  “She’s in the room behind the garage.”

  “You put her in the garage?”

  “That’s where I planned on putting Charly, so that’s where she stays.”

  Mary struggled to keep her amusement in but failed. “This is better than reality TV. You hire a stranger you thought was a guy, sleep with a pretty girl who turns out to be said guy, and you stick her in the garage to avoid temptation. You refuse to admit you like her, regardless of her name, and she’s been here less than twenty-four hours and has you tied up in knots and running from your own place.” She wiped her eyes. “Yep. I definitely need to come and meet this girl. Soon.”

  I stood. “I’m leaving. I’ll show myself out. Thanks for nothing, Mary.”

  Her laughter followed me out the door.

  I arrived back at the house a few hours later. I was calmer and my head clear. Charly was unexpected. We’d had amazing sex, and I was still reacting to the memories. It was as simple as that. I would put that aside, treat her as an employee, and give her a shot. She was obviously a hard worker, and I needed that. She could concentrate on the business, and I would concentrate on the customers. Once money was flowing again, maybe I would find the enthusiasm to start a new project. One to replace the one I had lost. I tried not to dwell on that.

  Except as I rounded the truck and saw what was waiting for me, all my clarity disappeared. Lying on a blanket on the grass, Rufus stretched out beside her, was Charly. Her legs were bare, a T-shirt hanging off her shoulder. She was on her stomach, knees bent, legs crossed at the ankle as she typed on her keyboard, enjoying the sun. I had to stop and take a few deep breaths before I went over, pushed away her laptop, and mounted her like a dog in heat.

  Jesus, she was sexy.

  I waited a moment then walked over, and she sat up, looking leery. “Hi.”

  “Hi. How’s the hand?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “What are you doing?”

  She crossed her legs and pulled her laptop onto her knees. “Looking at the website. Coming up with ideas. How attached are you to your, ah, logo?”

  I sat down across from her, imitating her crossed legs. She was trying, so I could do the same. “It’s old and outdated, I suppose. There used to be a sign.” I indicated the pole at the end of the driveway.

  “So, it was your dad’s shop?”

  “Yes, he ran it. He worked on cars, motorcycles, anything with an engine.” I smiled as I remembered being young and hanging around his garage. “When I was a kid, people even brought their lawn mowers here to be fixed.”

  “So, the house…”

  “…was my parents,” I finished for her. “I grew up there. I moved to Lomand when I was older, then when my dad wanted to retire and they needed a smaller place, I bought the shop and house.” I plucked a blade of grass, twirling it in my fingers. “I grew up in that shop. Being a mechanic was in my blood, and it was all I ever wanted to do.”

  She shut the laptop, pulled off her glasses, and leaned forward. “Your dad taught you?”

  “Yeah. He started me on those lawn mowers, then we moved to cars. It was a long time before he allowed me to touch his precious motorcycles. Those were his babies.”

  “My dad’s too. He and my brother Sean worked on them for hours.”

  “Does your dad still own the shop?”

  She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her voice was low and sad when she spoke. “No. My dad sold the shop after my brother died.” She looked away. “Then my dad died a couple of years ago.”

  Without thinking, I reached out and touched her hands. “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded, not speaking.

  “How?” I asked quietly.

  “Sean was on his bike. A car cut him off, and he rolled and was struck by another car coming in the opposite direction. He died at the scene.”

  “Fuck.”

  “My dad blamed himself—needlessly, of course—and he never got over it. He sold the shop, and not long after, he got cancer. I don’t think he had the strength to fight it, and I lost him too.” She met my sympathetic gaze. “So, I know what you mean when you say you miss your dad, Maxx. I miss them both every day.”

  A moment of kinship passed between us. A shared feeling of total understanding and clarity. We’d both lost people we loved, and we knew that pain.

  Still, I didn’t want to get too personal. Too involved. I couldn’t risk that.r />
  Despite what Mary said, it would be a long time before I could trust anyone new again.

  I cleared my throat. “In answer to your question, no, I’m not attached to the logo. It’s pretty old-fashioned.”

  “Like your ad,” she teased, but it was without malice.

  I chuckled. “I told you, I come by it honestly. My dad was old-fashioned, and I guess I am too in some ways.”

  “Holy moly, Maxx. Did you just agree with me on something?”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  She laughed. The sound was sultry and rich. She tilted her head back, her hair tumbling down past her shoulders as she let out her amusement. She was breathtaking in the sun, the brightness of her hair, her profile delicate and pale. I had to look away.

  “Got it, boss.”

  She slipped her glasses back on and pulled her laptop back on her knees. “Okay. Once I catch up on paperwork and invoices, I’ll start designing a new one and work on the website. I already have some ideas.”

  “I need to approve them.”

  She peered over her frames, shaking her head. “And we were getting along so well. Of course I’ll show them to you.”

  “And if I don’t like them, you’ll change them.”

  “I assumed so from your tone.”

  “I want to be involved. It’s my business, so you include me in every decision, do you understand?”

  With a huff, she stood, brushing her hands along the back of her shapely legs. She picked up her laptop. “Yowsers. And you say I have big balls. I’m going to check on dinner.”

  Rufus followed her, giving me the eye as he trailed behind her. She must have charmed him with treats. That was the only explanation.

  I watched her walk away, her ass spectacular in those shorts. She was rather touchy about the logo thing. It was my business; of course I would want to check it. The balls remark was really uncalled-for.

  I stood and grabbed the blanket, shaking it out. I followed her into the house, stopping as the scent of whatever she was cooking hit me. It was rich and hearty, and there was a trace of sweet lingering in the air.

  I set down the blanket, wandering into the kitchen. “Something smells awesome,” I offered in way of apology, although I wasn’t sure what I needed to apologize for. I didn’t want to jeopardize dinner, though.

  She lifted the lid off a roaster and stirred the contents.

  “It’s ready whenever you’re hungry.” She took a bowl, filling it, then busied herself at the counter. She turned, and my eyes widened at the sight of the piece of pie on the plate she had placed over the bowl. Lemon meringue. My absolute favorite.

  “You made pie?”

  “Yes, Captain Obvious, I made pie.”

  “What’s for dinner?”

  “Short ribs.”

  She grabbed some cutlery, tucked her laptop under her arm, and sidled around me. “Make sure you clean up.”

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  “To my room. Sundays are supposed to be a day off, and I’m done. You’re on your own, unless you tell me you need to be spoon-fed too.”

  “You’re going to eat in your room?”

  She waved toward the crowded, messy dining table. “Unless I sit in your lap, there is nowhere for me to eat, and besides, I want to enjoy my dinner. And with you glowering at me, barking orders, I doubt that will happen. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Then she was gone.

  I stood, perplexed. Part of me wanted to go after her and tell her she could sit on my lap and eat. Then after, we could figure out how to work off the food. The other part of me was annoyed over her glowering remark. We’d had an amicable time chatting outside—until the website talk.

  I stomped to the cupboard and grabbed a plate. I didn’t glower. Or bark orders.

  I dished out the meal she’d made. The pot had short ribs, potatoes, and carrots—like a whole meal in one pot, and once I had a taste, I moaned out loud. Again, it was simple, but amazing. I had a feeling the pie was going to be even better.

  I ate until I was full, enjoying everything she had made. Oddly enough, I felt almost lonely while I polished off my meal. It might have been nice to share it with someone.

  Even someone with a smart mouth, who would, no doubt, “chap my ass” while sitting across from me.

  I might have to do something about that. Lord knew what would happen if that occurred, though.

  Chapter 11

  MAXX

  Charly was already at the desk when I walked into the garage the next morning. I was determined today would be better. A fresh start. Officially, she was now an employee, and I would treat her as such. I rolled my shoulders, shook my head, and headed toward the office, plastering a smile on my face.

  “Morning, Charly.”

  She lifted her head from the mess of papers on her desk, smirked, then intoned in a deep voice, “Morning, Angel.”

  Then she burst out laughing at her own joke, the sound echoing off the walls. I rolled my eyes and filled a clean mug with coffee, noting the office was even tidier today than it had been yesterday.

  “What time did you start?” I asked, curious.

  She shrugged, sorting papers, not bothering to look up. “About five.”

  “Are you not comfortable in your room?”

  She stopped, lifting her gaze to mine. Behind her glasses, her green eyes were bright, although I thought she looked a little tired. I knew better than to say that, though. I had enough experience with women to know they didn’t like comments on their appearance unless they were complimentary.

  “It’s fine. I’ve always been an early riser.” She waved a hand filled with papers. “Lots here to catch up on.”

  “Hence the job, Charly.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “I know. This is my plan. I am going to sort in here this morning, then spend the afternoon sorting stuff in the house. I assume you have cleaning supplies in there?”

  “I assume so.”

  She huffed. “I may need to go get a few things.”

  Right. We were back to her driving the truck. Not happening. I sighed, thinking over my schedule. “I’ll have something for you to drive tomorrow. Can you make do until then?”

  “Sure.”

  I pushed off the counter, but she held up her finger. “I need you to sign in to your bank account.”

  I stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m going to be contacting people for payment. I want to offer e-transfer, so we need to set it up.”

  “Why?”

  “So the money comes in faster, Maxx,” she stated patiently.

  “I’m not giving you access to the bank accounts.”

  She sighed, crossing her arms. “Then how am I supposed to make deposits, pull statements, and balance the accounts?”

  “I’ll pull the stuff and give it to you.”

  She shut her eyes, and I swore she counted to ten before opening them. “Look, Maxx, obviously you don’t know me. I get it. But how about this. You sit here, open the banking info, I’ll tell you how I am going to set it up, and we will turn on alerts. Every time I send out an invoice, pay a bill, deposit money, your phone will get an alert.”

  “Every time?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Yes. You can even put a second password on it so you know everything I’m doing.”

  Still, I hesitated. She frowned but let me think. In order for her to do her job, I had to offer her some sort of trust. It didn’t come easily to me now, though. She must have sensed my unease, because she made another suggestion.

  “How about this,” she suggested. “We’ll set up the e-transfer part and the alerts. We’ll do the rest another time, once you decide you’re more comfortable with the arrangements. We can sit down once a week, and you can sign checks for bills, pull me any statements I need and so forth.”

  “Fine.”

  “Okay.”

  She stood, and I took her seat, signing in to the banking site. She was true t
o her word and waited to the side until I was signed in. I stood, giving her back the chair and watched as she set things up, explaining as she did.

  “How does e-transfer work?”

  “Instead of sending in a check or giving you a credit card, they transfer the money directly to the account. I, or you, will get an alert when the payment comes in. Simple and faster. No fees either.”

  That made sense. She was right; I needed to get the cash flowing again. One look at the balance and I cringed. I filled my cup and headed to the garage, turning as I paused in the door.

  “Thanks.”

  She smiled at me. A real, honest smile that almost knocked my socks off. She was breathtaking when she did that.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And dinner last night was delicious. Again.”

  She leaned back, lifting her arms over her head and locking her hands in place. “Did you like your pie?”

  I tried not to notice how high her breasts lifted in the light, frilly blouse she was wearing. How they rippled and pulled at the material as she moved. How the swell of her breasts peeked out from the low vee in her shirt.

  I tried to ignore how my dick got hard at the sensual pose and the huskiness of her voice.

  My efforts failed.

  I swallowed, gripping the edge of the doorframe, almost snarling at her. “Yep. It was good. Really good.”

  Then I turned and hurried to the garage, slamming down my mug, frustrated at how easily she could affect me. I needed to think of car engines, parts, oil changes. Not making her purr, stroking her parts, and how slick she would be if I did.

  I groaned as I ran a hand over my face.

  Today was going to be a long-ass day.

  And I had a feeling it was just the start.

  I thought things would be normal in the garage. I would work on the vehicles, and she would stay out of my way.

  I thought wrong.

  She wandered in all morning, bringing with her the scent of her skin, the brightness of her smile, and the fucking sexy office girl look. She asked me endless questions. Part numbers, more descriptions on the notes I had for invoices, dollar amounts, phone numbers.