by Parker, Lexy
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I waited until she had gone inside before I tried it one more time. Nothing happened. I wasn’t really expecting it to. I grabbed the box and went inside. The woman who’d been so kind wasn’t up front. My little plan had worked. I didn’t have to see her, even though I’d really wanted to. With the delivery made, I went back out to the truck.
I tried to start it several more times with no luck. I grabbed my phone and called the one guy I knew I could count on to help me out.
“Philip,” I said when he answered the phone.
“What’s up, boss?” he asked.
“This stupid truck is dead in the parking lot of the vet clinic,” I told him.
Philip laughed. “You know that thing has been on its last legs for months,” he lectured.
“Funny, that’s what Rick said before he walked out and quit about an hour ago.”
“Oh shit, really?” he groaned.
“It’s not that big of a loss,” I told him. “Anyway, how do I make this thing go?”
“Usually, you would push the gas pedal but in your case, I think that ship has sailed. What’s it doing?” he asked.
“Uh, nothing.”
“Turn the key and let me hear it,” he ordered.
I rolled my eyes. “There’s nothing to hear.”
I did it anyway. Waiting for him to tell me how to fix it.
“Did you do it?”
“Yes. It doesn’t work!” I whined.
He let out a long sigh. “I’ll head that way in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
“In the meantime, you can try and mess with the battery cables. Maybe there’s a loose connection,” he offered.
“Rick said something about an alternator,” I told him, only then remembering.
“Shit. Sit tight,” he said and ended the call.
I reached for the hood lever, pulled it and got out of the truck once again. I lifted the hood, stared at the engine and wished like hell I had paid more attention in auto shop. Even in the marines, my whole unit knew I was not the guy they wanted to ask for help fixing any of our rigs. I would do more damage than good.
Despite my lack of knowledge of how to make things go vroom, I did know some of the very basics. I saw the battery and reached for a cable, wiggling it back and forth. I did the same thing with the other, hoping that would be the magic fix. I anxiously hopped back in the driver’s seat and cranked the key. Nothing happened.
“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled and went back to look under the hood.
I saw the corrosion on the battery terminals and knew that was bad. I was really going to have to do a better job with the maintenance of the vehicles. This truck was the first one I had bought, and it had a lot of miles on it. It had been so reliable I forgot that it needed the same tender, loving care I gave to my newer rigs.
“I should have known better. I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling a little foolish for talking to the truck.
Chapter 6
Dani
I walked the elderly woman who’d brought in her cat for a checkup out to the reception desk. She was a sweet lady and was chatting about the new cat tree she had bought. I smiled and nodded as she rambled on. Kasey was carrying the cat in the carrier, smiling along as well. Once we got her all checked out, Kasey turned to me and giggled. “Wow.”
“She loves to talk about her cat,” I told her.
“I would say so.”
I checked the computer to see what the rest of the day held in store. I looked up and saw Kasey staring out the window.
“What’s going on?” I asked her.
“There’s a man with a broken-down truck out there. Should we see if he needs help?” she asked, turning to look at me.
I walked around the desk to look out the window. Men could be so stubborn. “I’ll go see what’s going on. Get the next room ready, please.”
I walked back outside, taking in the view of the rather tall, dark and sexy man leaning under the hood of his truck. He was lean, long legs but not skinny. I liked his casual look. He wasn’t stuffy, but he wasn’t sloppy. He was wearing a simple polo shirt tucked into his jeans. I had noticed his brown eyes with impossibly dark, black, long lashes that would have made any woman jealous.
“Still not running?” I asked.
He jerked his head up, whacking it against the hood. His hand moved to the back of his head, rubbing it as he turned to face me. “No, it’s not.”
“Are you sure you don’t need something?” I asked.
“Nah, it’s just the alternator. I have to pull it off and get some new cables and stuff,” he rambled.
I raised my eyebrows. “New cables and stuff?”
It was clear he didn’t know what he was talking about. “Hmm, do you mind if I take a look?”
He grinned, his eyes wrinkling in the corners. “You want to take a look under my hood?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, you got jokes, huh?”
“Sorry. Bad habit,” he muttered.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s cute,” I said, walking over and putting my hands on the front of the truck.
“Cute. I can be really cute,” he said, openly flirting.
I ignored it, reaching in to test the belt on the alternator. It was spongy and frayed, ready to snap at any second. How could the man not know it was in such bad shape? It had to be squealing when he drove. “Belt’s shot.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s your alternator belt. It attaches to a pulley, it spins, and your truck goes, or something like that,” I told him when I realized he was completely lost.
“So, I need a new one?”
He was too damn cute for his own good. He looked like a real manly-man. Tall, short hair cut in a business style, thick and it looked very silky. I quickly focused on the task at hand. “Yes, you need one, but I think you might need a lot more than a belt.”
I turned back to the engine, touching, poking and prodding. I was shaking my head and sighing as I looked at the many problems the poor truck had. It needed a serious tune-up. I stood up and faced him, taking in the total package of the man in front of me.
“Is it bad?” he asked with a grimace.
I detected a hint of a typical Southern accent. It only showed up on a few words, but it was there. It gave him a boyish charm that I liked. I guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, but there was a youthful quality about him, kind of one of those aw-shucks things that was sweet and endearing.
I had to fight back my laugh. “Yes. You need an alternator and probably a new battery. The belts could all use replacing, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find you also need the oil changed.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Would you be surprised to know you’re the second, no, the third person that’s told me that today? Actually, the third person in about the last hour.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” I shook my head. “You really need to take better care of your things, mister,” I said, suddenly feeling like a lecturing mother.
“I know. I do. I have other trucks and I swear they are in much better shape.”
“Why wouldn’t you drive one of those then?” I asked incredulously.
He chuckled, his wide grin contagious. “Because I was trying to prove a point.”
“And what would that point be?” I asked, almost afraid to know.
“That the truck was running just fine,” he said sheepishly.
I threw my head back and laughed. “Cute and stubborn,” I muttered under my breath.
“I like to think I’m determined and maybe a little handsome,” he replied, still smiling.
“You should have been determined to get this thing to a junkyard or a shop,” I shot back.
“You know a lot about cars,” he stated.
I shrugged a shoulder. “My boyfriend, husband, was into cars. If I wanted to spend time with him, I had to learn to get dirty.”
“I see,” he mumbled.
“I can call a tow truck for y
ou, or I could get those jumper cables I told you about and you should be able to drive it back to wherever it is you want it to die a slow death.”
He chuckled again. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Sit tight, I’ll be right back,” I told him and went back into the clinic to get my purse. I peeked through the window, watching as he stared under the hood again. It wasn’t often I met a man that knew absolutely zero about engines.
He couldn’t have been more different than Gage. I drove my car around front, parking it in the available spot next to his truck. I popped the trunk and grabbed the cables. I carried them up to the front of the vehicles.
“Jumper cables!” he remarked.
“Very good! You get an A. I’ll give you an A plus if you know what color goes on what terminal,” I said with a grin.
He wrinkled his nose, looking at the red and black alligator clamps. “I should know this.”
“Maybe, but I’m guessing you don’t.”
“I did. I used to. My buddy is never going to let me live this down,” he groaned.
“It’s okay. Stand back,” I told him, moving around him to attach the cables.
I started my car and got out to find him watching me as I walked toward him. “Is it done?”
“Why don’t you get in and try to start it?” I told him.
“Is that safe with this?” he asked, waving his hand over the cables.
I winked. “It is.”
He got into the truck and after two tries, it started right up. I smiled, feeling very accomplished and happy as hell I had paid attention all those days I spent in the garage with Gage. It had taught me a lot and I had always been very independent because of it. He always told me he didn’t want me to be the lady stranded on a dark road all alone and vulnerable. He’d taught me a lot.
I saw him reach for the key to shut it off. “No!”
He put his hands up. “What? What did I do?”
“Don’t shut it off,” I ordered.
“Oh, sorry, duh.”
I disconnected the cables and was just putting them back in the trunk of my car when Philip pulled up. I noticed the logo on the side of the truck matched the one on the dead truck. I hadn’t realized I was dealing with a guy from his company. The first guy was still sitting in his truck as if he were afraid to get out and have it die on him.
Philip jumped out of the truck. “It lives!” he joked.
“Does this guy work with you?” I asked him.
“Work with me? He’s the owner of the company!” he told me with a laugh.
“Oh. I had no idea.”
“He’s a pretty low-key guy,” Philip said.
His friend, or boss I supposed, got out of the truck and came over to where Philip and I were standing. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”
“She got the truck going?” Philip asked with surprise.
“Yes. I’m Clay by the way, Clay Pierce,” he said, reaching out a hand.
I took his and shook it. “I’m Dani Yates.”
“This is Jamie’s friend,” Philip explained.
Clay seemed to figure out who I was and nodded his head. “I can’t believe we’ve never met before.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “You’re always busy or I’m always busy I guess.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dani. Thanks again for getting the truck going. I’ll take your advice and get the thing into the shop. I guess I don’t need you after all, Philip, but gee, I appreciate you rushing right over,” he said sarcastically.
“Hey, I had a delivery to make and my boss is a real slave driver. He gets on me when my deliveries are late,” he said.
“I’ve got to go. I still have another delivery to make,” Clay said, turning to walk away.
“Don’t turn off the truck,” I shouted out as he was moving to get in.
He gave me a thumbs-up. “Got it!”
Philip and I watched him back out and drive out of the parking lot. I turned to face Philip, one brow raised. “That’s your boss?”
“Yes. He’s a good guy. He’s the one that brought me to Hope,” he said.
“I didn’t realize that. He seems nice enough, but he doesn’t know much about cars,” I said, shaking my head.
Philip laughed. “No, he doesn’t, and I give him shit about it all the time. Thanks for emasculating him for me. That’s going to give me some good material to work with for at least a month.”
“I didn’t mean to. He seemed pretty bummed and clueless. I couldn’t leave him sitting out here. It was a quick jumpstart, nothing technical,” I assured Philip.
“Thanks for helping him out and saving me some time. I’ve got to get to my last delivery so I can get done and get Sadie picked up. Are you going to the Memorial Day thing at the park?” he asked.
I cringed. “I’m going.”
“You don’t look happy about that,” he commented.
“I haven’t decided if I’m doing the speech if that’s what you’re asking,” I said, knowing Jamie would have told him about it.
“No pressure. Don’t do anything you don’t want to. I don’t know if I could stand up in front of a crowd and talk about my late wife,” he said in a quiet voice.
I knew he understood and appreciated his words. “Thank you. I’m considering it.”
“Take care, Dani,” he said, waving as he got back into his truck.
I drove my car back into the parking area behind the building and went back inside. Kasey was sweeping out a kennel, looking up when I came in. “You’re back!”
“Sorry, is everything okay in here?”
“Yes. That was a lot of handsome out there,” she said with a giggle.
I shook my head. “One is my sister-in-law’s husband and the other was his boss. Handsome, yes. Am I interested, no.”
“You don’t have to be interested, but you do have to acknowledge those were a couple of attractive men,” she prodded.
I knew she wasn’t going to let up until I admitted it. “They are both very attractive. Although, I think they’re probably a little too old for you.”
She burst into laughter. “Age is just a number.”
I scoffed. “That’s what old men say when they’re dating teenagers and want a good excuse for it.”
Kasey was giggling as she walked away. Clay was very attractive. I could definitely see what Kasey was talking about.
Chapter 7
Clay
Thankfully, it was a slow delivery day. I only had to make a few after leaving the vet clinic. I left the truck running, not daring to shut it off. I had already made an appointment to take it in for repair tomorrow morning. Once it was fixed, I was considering selling it. It wasn’t like I had enough employees to need the extra rig and I could use the extra cash. It was one of the many ideas I had come up with while driving around town. I kind of missed doing the delivery part of the business and interacting with people.
I made it back to the shop a few minutes before Philip at the end of the day. I already knew he was going to give me a rash of shit for the shitty truck breaking down. I was ready for it. I probably deserved it. I had chosen to ignore the needs of my poor, abused truck and I had chosen not to learn how to do any kind of basic repairs. But it was my choice and it wasn’t like I was completely failing at life. It could have happened to anyone. Trucks broke down all the time.
Philip ambled into my office with his usual long-legged easy gait as he looked at me and smiled. “How’s it feel to be rescued by a skinny little redhead?” he asked with a grin.
“Did you see my rescuer? I think I’m quite pleased. There are worse things that can happen to a guy. You might want to give it a try.”
“I don’t think Jamie knows the first thing about fixing a broken truck,” he said dryly.
“Your loss,” I teased.
“She fixed your truck. Come on, that’s a little embarrassing,” he pressed. “You stood there watching as she got your truck going.”
I shook my head. �
��Not in the least. I got to hang out with a sexy redhead, watching her mess around under my hood and scold me about taking better care of my things. I don’t think embarrassed is the word I would use.”
“You could have at least pretended to try to fix it or at the very least looked like you had a clue,” he said, taking the seat across from my desk.
“I did and I sounded like an idiot and she called me out for it. Besides, I saw how happy she was when she got to fix it for me. I feel like I did something good for her. She was impressed with herself. I saw the light in her eyes when the truck started up,” I insisted.
“Oh, is that what that was?” he chuckled.
“Yep. I’m a manager, no need for me to get my hands dirty. That’s what I pay people for, so I don’t have to do the dirty jobs.”
“You’re ridiculous and you don’t have people. You have me, remember?”
“She is a remarkable woman,” I said, shaking my head.
“She is. She and Jamie are very close,” he said.
I nodded, reviewing all that she had said. She’d mentioned a husband, but it felt past tense. I was guessing she was divorced. I wanted to know more about her, but knew I was treading on some thin ice. There were some rules in these situations. My best friend’s wife’s best friend, it could get tricky. The ladies would talk. Philip and I would talk and if there was ever an argument, there would be sides taken. That would put Philip in a bad spot.
“I get it. She said she was married,” I mentioned casually.
Philip checked his watch. “I need to get going. Sadie wants me to take her to get some new hair bow or something. We’re going to have to move to a new house with as many clothes and hairbows as that girl has. Jamie isn’t helping matters. She buys her a new bow almost every week. My house looks like a damn Claire’s.”
“What the hell is a Claire’s?” I asked.
“Go to the mall. Look for the store with pink and bows. You can’t miss it,” he mumbled, walking to the door.
“Philip,” I called out, stopping him.
“What’s up?”
“Dani?”
“What about her?” he asked.
