“But you were out with Ronnie, weren’t you? Dad said you couldn’t keep your eyes off her at church today.”
Grady held up both his hands, trying to put a stop to this whole conversation. “Ronnie is fixing my truck and I wanted to thank her, so I bought her fish and chips.”
His mom rolled her eyes. “Really? That’s the best you could do for the woman who saved you six hundred dollars?”
“Six hundred …” His hands scraped through his hair. “That’s not right.” He looked to Mrs. Martin to set the record straight.
She shrugged, her shoulders reaching the ends of her short, and yes, golden-brown, hair. “All I know is the part cost two-fifty.”
He almost cursed right there in front of his mother. “Why would she do that?” he asked, confused. “People don’t go around giving away six-hundred dollars. That’s just crazy.”
The moms exchanged one of those looks again.
“Stop doing that.”
“What?” his mom asked.
“Talking about me without saying anything out loud.”
Their laughter twittered like happy little larks in the springtime. Mom waved him off. “Sweetie, I think Ronnie likes you.” Mom’s lips didn’t break into a smile, but her eyes were grinning as big as the maple tree in the backyard.
“Always has,” added Mrs. Martin. They did that annoying look thing again.
Grady’s heart lifted. He reached for a chair, wanting to sit down and let the moms tell him all about it. Troy bounded through the glass door, sweat trailing down his neck and the football tucked under his arm. He headed straight for the sink.
“Just be nice to her, son. She’s not a little kid anymore, and a woman’s heart isn’t something to be trifled with.”
“Who?” Troy gasped. He threw back a glass of water and used the sink to refill his cup.
“Ronnie,” Mrs. Martin filled in. “Your sister still has eyes for Grady.”
Troy laughed. “That’s hilarious.”
“Troy,” Mrs. Martin scolded.
“Come on, Mom. Grady’s not going to date Ronnie. She’s like his little sister.”
Grady cleared his throat. This was the opening he’d prayed for all during church. “She’s not little anymore, dude.”
“He’s right,” added Mrs. Martin.
“She turned out to be a real looker too,” Mom threw in.
Grady clenched his stomach. He could have done without his mom throwing that comment out there.
Troy came to stand by him. “No way.” He punched Grady in the shoulder. “Grady’s too much of a player for Ronnie.”
“Grady!” Mom pointed at him. “We taught you better than that.”
Grady drug his hand down his face. This couldn’t go any worse. Troy didn’t want Grady with Ronnie, and now his mom thought he was some sort of player. “Mom—I promise I am not playing the ladies.” He crisscrossed his finger over his heart and then cuffed the back of Troy’s head. Perhaps a little harder than he should have, because Troy rubbed the spot. Grady was having a hard time not punching the guy in the face because of some weird you’re my friend but I totally want to kill you right now surge bursting through his veins. Watching his shot at being with Ronnie dismissed by her brother was ticking him off. He yanked the football out from under Troy’s arm. “Let’s play some ball.”
Troy snagged the ball back and took off out the door. “Idiot,” Grady muttered. He followed at a much slower pace, his thoughts holding him back. The honorable thing to do would be to keep his distance. He’d been away from Snow Valley for years; there was no reason he needed to be here any more than before. If he could stay away from Ronnie and her coconut-smelling hair, then he’d survive.
Survive? Yes. Be happy? Probably not. Ronnie had a way of looking at the world that was fresh and bright and lit his whole day. Without her, he’d been just getting by in life. He had no idea that he was waiting for her. If he’d known that, he would have done things differently—so very differently.
Chapter 14
Mondays were busy at the shop. Seemed like everyone who had a problem over the weekend saved it for Monday morning. As the work orders built up, Ronnie cast a furtive look at Grady’s truck parked in the corner of the lot. Since she was doing the work for free, she couldn’t use a bay during normal business hours unless they had a free hour. By noon, she knew she’d be staying late to get it done. Grady had already upheld his part of the bargain—she was duty bound to uphold hers and have the truck done on time.
He texted her at three, asking what time he should come by.
With a sigh, she typed out: Between five and seven.
He sent back a thumbs-up. Not exactly the fun and flirty text she’d been looking for, but then again, she’d been short and businesslike. There just wasn’t time to be all cute when she had a set of brake pads waiting to be installed.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” asked Candace at five-thirty. They had one vehicle left for pickup today. Ronnie knew how to cash out a repair. The last thing she wanted was an audience while she was with Grady. “I can listen for the bell while I work on the Dodge.”
“Okay, then. I’m going to Dove’s—I’m down to yogurt and string cheese.”
Ronnie sent Candace out the door with a wave and headed back to the shop, leaving the door between the waiting area and the bays open so she could hear if anyone—anyone named Grady— came in. About fifteen minutes later, the bell dinged. Her hands went slick, and she dropped the wrench she’d been using. It clamored through the engine and landed on the concrete floor. She decided to leave it there and grabbed a rag to wipe off her hands as she headed out front.
An older man in ripped jeans and wearing secondhand cigarette smoke like a teenaged boy wears cologne stood at the counter. “’Bout time,” he griped as she came through the door.
“You must be Mr. Frattardy.” Ronnie smiled. She couldn’t remember working on this particular vehicle before, and she definitely didn’t recognize this cantankerous customer. “I’ve got your invoice all ready.” She pulled the invoice out of the cubby where Mr. Frattardy’s keys clinked and slid it across the counter.
“Are you kidding me?” He chewed his lip.
“We accept debit, credit, or cash.” She widened her grin, hoping to dispel an unpleasant situation with a pleasant disposition.
“I’m not paying over three hundred dollars for brakes.” He shoved the paper back her direction.
“It wasn’t just the brakes. We also had to replace the sensor on the front tires.”
He swore.
Ronnie took a deep breath to keep herself calm. Candace would have called and gotten his okay before signing off on the sensor change, so it wasn’t like this was a surprise. He’d probably planned to throw a fit and that’s why he waited until the minute before they closed to come in. “We can hang on to the vehicle if you need some time to get the funds together.”
He slammed his palm on the counter. “I can pay it—but I won’t. You have no right to gouge a customer like this.”
“I assure you, sir, that’s the going rate.”
He swore again—adding an unflattering term just for her. His eyes went to the cubby where his keys waited, and he made his way around the counter. Stunned, Ronnie realized she was cornered with the computer at her back and his menacing scowl blocking the escape. His smell got stronger as he got closer and her stomach churned.
“I want my car.” He stepped over that invisible line that separated employees and customers, making Ronnie’s heart stop completely and then take off at 300 RPMs.
She should just give him the keys, but she hated to let a customer think he could just take something from her family’s garage. This place had been in her family for three generations. The Martins prided themselves on fair prices. They worked with customers who couldn’t afford repairs, offering payment options when needed. Snow Valley was good to them and they, in turn, were good to Snow Valley. She reached for the mace Can
dace kept in the cubby closest to the computer. Twisting the cap, she held up the can. “Don’t come any closer.”
He called her that name again but stopped his advance.
They stared at one another in a game of chicken that would end with one of them being hurt in some way. Ronnie could see the cold calculations in his gaze—he was measuring her up. She narrowed her eyes. She could have grabbed the gun under the cash drawer, but she wasn’t all that certain she could shoot someone—even in self-defense. But mace a guy in the eyes for getting too close? She could totally do that!
The bell chimed again. Ronnie didn’t dare look away, afraid Mr. Frattardy would take advantage of the distraction. She sent up a silent prayer that whoever it was, was on her side of this and not his.
“What’s going on?” Grady asked—his voice the welcome home she’d longed for.
She gritted her teeth. Instead of answering Grady, she said, “As I said, we take debit, credit, or cash.”
Mr. Frattardy eyed Grady and took a step back, once again putting himself on the customer side of the line. “I ain’t paying you. I’ll come back and talk to your daddy.”
Grady moved behind the man standing close enough to breathe down his neck. He folded his arms, his chest getting all big and intimidating and his shoulders widening. “I’m sure her daddy’s going to have a few words for you, too. You don’t want to mess with Brian Martin. Not when it comes to his girls.”
Mr. Frattardy grunted and made his way around Grady and out the door. Ronnie followed him, and Grady followed her like a giant, muscle-filled shadow. She waited until Mr. Frattardy was halfway across the parking lot before she flipped the deadbolt and relaxed her hold on the mace. Her pointer finger burned from holding it so tightly.
She turned around and found Grady standing inside her personal bubble. His nearness was overwhelming, and she leaned against the door for support. He stared over her head, watching the car whose tires crunched as Mr. Frattardy peeled out of the parking lot.
She couldn’t help but want to touch Grady. He was so imposing and all hard lines and everything. A thick vein in his temple pounded. She placed her hands on his arms, drawing his attention away from the parking lot. The transformation on his face as he looked at her was breathtaking. His jaw, no longer clenched, softened. His big, broad shoulders relaxed and his arms unfolded. He searched her face with all the intensity that radiated through him. “Does that happen often?”
Ronnie shook her head quickly. “Only once before. Dad practically chased the guy across the county line. Candace deals with a lot more crap.”
“Why?” He leaned forward.
“Because she’s up front and gorgeous.”
His arms went noodle soft beneath her touch. “So are you.”
Ronnie huffed a laugh. “Thanks. But I know I’m not the Barbie doll guys want.”
A crease appeared between his eyes, and he opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue with her.
Ronnie wasn’t in the mood for any more arguments, and she wasn’t fishing for complements. She didn’t want to come across as one of those needy girls constantly begging for attention—because she wasn’t like that. Mr. Frattardy was an isolated incident, and it was all taken care of. She hoped he did come back in the morning when Dad was here. She’d make sure the big wrenches were near the front so Dad could carry one, maybe pound it into his palm once or twice, as he “talked” to the guy about how things work around here. “Anyway. I’m about halfway through, if you can wait a bit?”
He glared at the door, looking like he wouldn’t mind having one of those big wrenches himself. “I’ll stick around.”
Ronnie paused for a moment, waiting for him to look down and maybe pick up where they’d left off on her front porch the other night, but his arms didn’t wrap around her. She’d spent too much time daydreaming about him Sunday night. In her daydreams, this was the point when they got lost in one another’s gaze and ended up clutching one another in a passionate embrace. Funny, she’d never once dreamed of being threatened by a customer and having Grady ride in wearing a nice red polo shirt.
He didn’t grab hold of her body nor her eyes, and she forced herself away from the door and away from him. “Suit yourself.” She headed into the shop and grabbed a new wrench off the tool rack. There was no way she was going to scramble under the vehicle with Grady watching.
Grady wandered around, looking at everything, a sense of nostalgia following him like a puppy.
“It’s all pretty much the same as when you hung out here in high school. I can’t get Dad to change a thing.”
Grady smiled a knowing little smile that sent a thrill up her back and had butterflies doing backflips in her stomach. “Not everything’s the same.”
She flushed and went back to twisting the bolt. Flirting with Grady was so much fun, but that was all there was to them. It would be fun to go back and forth with longing looks, winks, and some cute exchanges, but that was all he was going to give her. She wasn’t happy about the restrictions he put on them, but she had to find a way to accept them. Accepting limitations had always been hard for her. This time was no exception.
“Hey, will you hand me a quart of oil? It’s in the supply closet,” she asked, needing some space. It was harder to forget the way he flustered her when he was in the same room.
“Sure.” He disappeared behind the blue door and came back a moment later with the gallon jug dangling from his fingers. “What’s this for?”
“I wanted to top you off before putting my stamp of approval on this repair.”
He smiled and handed her the jug, their fingers brushing. She bit back her sigh and concentrated on making sure the oil hit the funnel and didn’t spill all over. Once that was done, she brushed her hands together and slammed the hood. “You’re good to go.”
“Thanks—I really appreciate this.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, really. You went above and beyond, and all I did was take you for fish and chips. I feel like a world-class jerk.”
She smiled sadly. “You could never be a jerk, Grady. It’s not in your DNA.”
“Still—a six-hundred-dollar repair …”
“I wasn’t trying to put you in my debt.”
“At least let me pay for parts.”
She opened her mouth to protest and he put his finger on her lips to shush her. Time slowed, and sounds faded away with skin-to-lip-contact. “It would make me feel better, though.”
Ronnie wasn’t sure if she’d ever feel better after the fire he created surged through her body. “I’ll leave a note for Candace to call you.”
He dropped his hand to his side and shuffled his feet. “Thanks.”
All the signals Grady sent out said the same thing: goodbye. Whatever had started growing between them was squashed the moment Troy drove down Main Street Snow Valley. The idea made her sad—hole-in-the-heart sad. Hole-in-the-future sad. Hole-in-the-whole-concept-of-finding-love sad. Life sucked when it didn’t line up with the daydream, positive-thinking version she’d created Sunday evening.
She looked down at her coveralls. They had grease stains and smudge marks. She’d have to take them home for a good wash, and there was no way she was going to wear them in the Pontiac. She undid the first three buttons, intent on saving the upholstery.
“What are you doing?” Grady’s voice cracked.
She paused in her movements. His eyes were wide and locked on the last buttoned button of her coveralls. “I’m taking off my coveralls.”
“You shouldn’t do that in front of me.”
She cocked her head, confused. “It’s not like I’m naked underneath.”
“I know. It doesn’t matter. That motion—” He circled his finger in front of her chest where her fingers hovered over the next button. “—does things to a guy’s thoughts. In fact, you should never, ever do that here—at work—with all the men around—ever.”
If Grady wanted to keep it at flirting partners, then fine—she’d show him what a cha
mp she was in the flirting ring. With a saucy grin, she dropped the coveralls over her T-shirt-covered shoulder and pumped her eyebrows.
He groaned and dragged his palm down his cheek. “You’re impossible.”
Ever so slowly, she peeled her arm out and then started on the other side. “What? This bothers you?”
He grabbed both her arms to stop her movements. She giggled as she watched his Adam’s apple bob. Just as slowly as she’d pulled her arm out of the sleeve, he backed her up against his truck. His breathing was all ragged and rough, leading Ronnie to believe he hadn’t been teasing even though she had. Could she have misread his goodbye signals? Usually she was pretty well versed in “guy.” Her hands went to his arms, his skin hot to the touch.
He closed his eyes, as if her touch affected him, and gulped. “I shouldn’t want to kiss you, Ronnie,” he rasped.
Ronnie schooled her expression. Grady had her head spinning. He smelled of fresh soap, laundry detergent, and something undeniably manly. When she breathed in his smell, she pictured him wrestling steers on the ranch and riding a horse in a black cowboy hat. The only question was what he wanted from her—what did he really want? “Does that mean I shouldn’t want to kiss you back?”
He leaned his forehead against hers, sending delighted little chills throughout her body. She drank in his closeness, letting her heart pump like a well-oiled piston. His arms were big and strong, and she trailed her hands up and down them, feeling at home on the edge of the cliff.
“You’re driving me crazy. I can’t think straight.”
She took her hands up his round biceps and over his broad shoulders. “So stop thinking so hard.”
He pulled her to him in a hot kiss that had her heart screaming down this road they’d merged onto together. His hands roved across her back, bringing her closer and closer still. They pressed down to her lower back, and then his fingers were at her side, strong and firm. His lips were hot, his breath minty, and his desire evident in the urgency of his kiss.
Ronnie could hardly keep up. In all the times she’d imagined kissing Grady, she’d underestimated his passion. Gasping for air, they broke apart. One look and they were back in each other’s arms as if they’d been fused together. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough.
Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 46
