Pop The Clutch: A Second Gear Romance

by Kristin Harte

  “Fucker. You had me panicking at the table with all those messages.”

  “Just keeping you in the loop, boss man.”

  The things I owed him and Brogan for watching out for me were endless. “Thank you. I mean that.”

  In a rare moment of seriousness, Colton simply replied, “You’re welcome. It was a surprisingly fun night.”

  “Okay. We’ve got a shit-ton of work at the shop tomorrow, so make sure you’re ready for a long day.”

  “You know, maybe you should think about taking a few days off. Take your girl on a little up-north adventure. You can use my cabin.”

  As good as that idea sounded, I knew it wouldn’t work. Not with the backlog of work at the shop and Violet needing to take care of her grandma. Still, it was something I had to remember. A weekend in the woods and on the water with Violet sounded a bit like heaven. “She’s not my girl, not really. Besides, she’s here for her grandma. I doubt she’d be willing to leave for a weekend.”

  “Ask her. Whisk her away for a few days of debauchery, and then convince her to move home. I may need her to run interference with Dahlia for the rest of my life.”

  “That bad?”

  “No balls, man. Gone. Missing.” Colton chuckled. “Pretty sure she snagged them with her claws at some point during the verbal beatdown.”

  I grimaced. “Ouch. Your brother owes you big-time.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. So I sort of need Miss Violet to help me out here. Maybe if she moved home, she could talk her cousin into not trying to kill me every time we see each other.”

  “Right, like she’ll just leave her life behind and come back here with all the shit people put her through.”

  “She’s got family here, East. Everyone needs family around them, even if it’s the kind you pick instead of the one you’re born into.” When Colton turned serious and started spouting off, his words were the kind that hit you right in the gut and warmed you with truth. But that never lasted long. “Too bad you picked me and Brogan. We’re sort of the family you never wanted but got stuck with after other people got married. We’re your weird Uncle Eddies.”

  “Shitter’s full, Clark.” I shook my head as he laughed. “I need to get back to Violet, but thank you again. I really appreciate you taking time to help me out.”

  “Anytime. You know that. I’m just glad you finally took some time off work. I’m pretty sure you haven’t done anything for yourself in a few years.”

  A few. Maybe. “Yeah, well…we’ve been building the business.”

  “I know, but there’s more to life than work. Like that hot piece of tail you’re chasing. Take care of her, man.”

  “I will. Now, go have fun.”

  “You too, boss.” He hung up without a salutation, not that I needed more words from him. The man was right. I needed to forget about work for a few hours and focus on Violet.

  I pocketed my phone, took a quick trip to the restroom, and then strode back to the table. Violet caught my eye from halfway across the restaurant, lifting her chin and smiling. That look, that peaceful, happy expression, made my entire world seem to tilt. It was at that moment, as I weaved my way through the tables, that I knew.

  She wasn’t my girl yet, but she would be. I’d move heaven and earth to make sure of it. But first, I wanted to get her alone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  VIOLET

  When a man who looked like Easton Cole, who was as thoughtful and charming as him, asked you to go home with him for a drink and a movie, you didn’t say no. Which was how we ended up heading to his side of town instead of mine after dinner.

  “It’s been years since I’ve been here, but it still looks the same.” I stared out the window as he turned into his neighborhood. The trailer park looked exactly as I remembered it. Wide streets, lush, green lawns, and mobile homes spaced out along each road in a perfect angled pattern. And the flowers! I’d forgotten all the flower gardens decorating the park. So many patches of bright colors dancing in the breeze. The place might as well have been a work of art.

  “Things don’t change too much on this side of Van Horn, though I had no idea you’d ever been here.”

  “The soccer team came through every year for those fundraising tag sales. People here were always so nice.”

  “I forgot about those sales. I bet you came to my door a time or two.”

  Teenage me would have fumbled my speech if Easton had answered the door. Adult me wouldn’t have done much better. “Could be.”

  “She’d probably remember.” Easton waved at a curvy woman in a flowered halter top and jean shorts who stood in what I had to assume was her driveway. The lady smiled wide and bright, waving back.

  “Friend of yours?”

  “My mom.” He laughed at my wide eyes. “You can meet her another day. She’s probably hanging out with Mrs. Jeffers tonight. The two like to play poker.”

  “Your mom still lives in the park?”

  Easton nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “My sister too. Pretty sure most of the people in this park are original residents. Everyone sticks around and stays close to one another—we’re all family. Well, other than Brogan and Colton. They’re just burrs on my ass.”

  I laughed, distracted by the colorful patches outside the window. Each trailer had bright flowers in front of it, and whole gardens of annuals lined the sidewalks. Some trailers had toys in the yard, some had porches with rocking chairs or padded swings, but all of them looked cheerful and tidy. There was no sign of neglect, no trash or damaged homes. The place was as neat as a pin.

  As we turned another corner, I caught sight of a couple dogs running around a fenced-in side yard. The two brown hounds raced the length of the chain link, practically smiling. A man stood at the gate, a bucket of some kind on his arm. He waved at Easton as we drove past, and Easton waved back.

  “That’s Colton’s uncle, Dalton. He manages a scrapyard in the city. Finds me parts for some of the older models we get in now and again. He’s also my ex-cousin by a marriage that ended a few years back.”

  “So…not really related.”

  “Exactly. But I liked him, so I kept him in the divorce and gave up seeing my actual cousin.”

  That was something you didn’t hear every day. “Really?”

  “Yeah. My cousin cheated on him, so we sort of took his side.”

  “Oh.” The truck suddenly seemed too small, too warm. My gut twisted and burned, but as we drove farther into the park, the charm of the place distracted me from the dread slowly building around my heart. I watched the bright hues pass by, loving the way the reds, yellows, and oranges seemed to intermingle into a vibrant patchwork quilt. The walkways looked as if they were surrounded by rivers of fire, and the overall effect practically stunned me. How could I have forgotten those flowers? “I’ve never seen a neighborhood with so many flowers.”

  “That’s old Mrs. Jeffers, the poker queen. She plants them along every street each year. Well, she used to. Now she sits in her wheelchair and tells us where to plant them. We had about fifteen guys planting pansies a few months back.”

  Be still my heart. “That’s really considerate. Has anyone ever told you you’re sweet, Easton Cole?”

  “I do try, Miss Violet. I do try.”

  Easton swung his truck into a parking spot in front of a single-wide trailer with a screened-in front porch. My eyes took in every detail, devouring it in mere seconds. The trailer itself appeared unassuming—a simple deep-beige color with white trim and green shutters. Just like the others, it looked neat and tidy with pots of flowers lining the front and more along the sidewalks. And yet, that small, metal building practically terrified me for all the assumptions that would be made if I walked into it.

  I took a deep breath and tried to keep my voice steady as I said, “I can’t believe you still live here.”

  “Never saw any point in moving. I could have rented an apartment, but then I’d have to deal with sharing walls with strangers. At least
out here, I have my own space. Plus, my mom and sister needed me. Old Mrs. Jeffers needed me. There was work to be done here, so I stayed.”

  He didn’t move, didn’t reach for the door. Instead, he waited as I stared out the window and tried to find my breath. This was a big step, coming home with Easton. There were implications and possibilities, even if we just sat on his couch chatting. Anyone who saw me get out of his truck would be talking about us tomorrow. Everyone here knew him, and most of them probably knew of me. They’d think the worst of what was about to happen…and they might just be right.

  “Hey,” he said, all quiet and soft. “There’s no pressure here. We’re just a couple of friends hanging out.”

  “I know that,” I whispered.

  His brow furrowed. “Then why are you sitting there staring at my trailer like it’s the seventeenth level of hell and I’m about to toss your ass to the bees and stinging insects?”

  “The stinging insects were in the vestibule, not one of the levels.” I smiled as best I could, reaching for the door handle. “I read Dante in Humanities class, too, you know.”

  He grabbed my hand, stopping me from opening the door. “We can go somewhere else. I just thought it might be nice to get out of the crowds.”

  I shook my head and pushed open the door, refusing to let my nerves ruin our night. “This is fine. I’m just being silly.”

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely.” I hopped out of the truck, careful not to hit Easton’s black sports car in the neighboring spot.

  Easton met me at the front of the truck and grabbed my hand. “It’s not silly if it upsets you.”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “You sure? Because it didn’t seem that way for a second there,” he said as he opened the screen door for me.

  “I’m sorry—I swear I’m okay with being here. I’d like to see where you live. I’m just worried about talk.”

  Easton hummed softly, an almost disgruntled sound. “Talk.”

  “Yeah, like the talk that’ll happen when people see us together. When they realize who I am and remember…stuff about me.” My mouth twisted into what had to be a grimace as I considered how bad that could be for him. “I’d hate for my reputation to mar your business. I know it’s still relatively new.”

  Easton shook his head and opened the inside door for me, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time. “There’s not a whole lot that can mar my reputation more than my own actions already have. Add in Colton’s shenanigans, and I’m amazed anyone trusts us to wash their cars, let alone fix them. Yet they do, and that shouldn’t be affected by who I choose to hang around with. Besides, people will talk no matter what. I, for one, refuse to let them make my choices for me.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  He grabbed me around the waist, pulling me into a kiss that set my heart racing. Deep and searching, right there on his porch for all the world to see, he kissed me like he’d been waiting to kiss me for days. Months. Years. He kissed me like a man starving for a kiss. He kissed me like every woman deserved to be kissed. I melted, need and desire and blatant lust ablaze inside me. My entire body surrendering itself to his kiss.

  “I’m sure about wanting to spend time with you,” he murmured when he finally pulled his lips from mine.

  “Not fair,” I grumbled, licking my top lip. “That kiss was…totally not fair.”

  “Gotta play to my strengths.” He placed a soft peck on my nose, then turned me around and patted my ass, encouraging me. I stepped inside his trailer but stopped dead in my tracks. It was so not what I expected. The floors were wood with what looked like a wool rug creating a separation between the walkway and the conversation area. And it was a conversation area—the couches faced each other, a chair the only piece of furniture turned toward the flat-screen television mounted over the bookcases along the wall. The furniture was definitely somewhat new, the lines clean and the colors tasteful. Very manly without being a bachelor pad. Almost elegant, in a modern sort of way.

  “This is…” I started, not knowing how to finish. Holy cow, he even had art on the walls. Bright, colorful paintings that reminded me of his shop windows. Honest-to-God pictures of the not-dogs-playing-poker variety.

  Easton chuckled. “Not what you expected?”

  I shrugged, feeling somewhat like an idiot for being surprised. “Yeah. It’s really nice. Surprisingly so.”

  “Just because I live in a trailer doesn’t mean I’m trash.”

  The tone of his voice, the harshness there, had me spinning around to face him. “That’s not at all what I meant. I was thinking more bachelor-pad-ugly than any kind of trashy. I swear.”

  Easton sighed, fighting to lift his lips into a smile. “I know, but that’s what a lot of people assume, especially after my dad left and we had to go on state assistance until my mom and I were able to work enough to get our feet under us. People always remember that time, but they forget that we were like everyone else before he left. Plus, outsiders see mobile homes and think cheap, trashy, and crime-ridden.”

  They did. I remembered a lot of friends refusing to visit the park for the tag sales and talking about the people who lived there as if they were somehow less than the rest of us. “That’s totally not what I thought. And there’s no way anyone could look at your home and think cheap.”

  “I always did like to break convention.” He walked into the open kitchen, turning on strategically placed lights as he went. “Can I get you something to drink? I don’t have any pineapple juice, but I can make you something sweet if you like.”

  I grinned as I slid onto the barstool at the island, my fingers running across the stone top. “No thanks. I think I had enough wine at the restaurant.”

  Easton grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, then leaned against the island directly across from me. “I hope you had a nice time.”

  “I did. The restaurant was beautiful, and my dinner was amazing.”

  “It’s a bit of a drive, but that place has been a favorite of mine for years.”

  “I can see why.”

  Just then, an orange cat came running into the room with its tail in the air. Easton positively lit up as he bent to pick her up. “There’s my girl.”

  “Oh, she’s gorgeous.”

  He snuggled the kitty close, the two rubbing their faces together. “This is my Dolly. Dolly, meet Violet.”

  The cat eyed me from under her owner’s chin, her cute little face almost hidden.

  “Hey, Dolly.” I was rewarded with a single tail flick. “Yup. She’s a looker, all right.”

  “Yeah, she’s a pretty one.” He set the cat down, making short shushing sounds as she purred and wrapped herself around his legs. “She’s also loud and likes to wake me up in the middle of the night by head-butting me.”

  “Sounds like a perfectly functional cat-human relationship.”

  He chuckled, watching as Dolly ran off for the other end of the trailer. “That’s what people tell me.” Easton took a drink of his beer, then came around the island and offered me a hand. “Come on. Let’s go get comfortable.”

  And didn’t that sentence sound so dirty as heard through my wine-and-kiss-addled mind? With only the slightest hesitation, I took his hand and followed him to one of the couches. My heart raced the whole time, my body almost overly warm. Easton was charming me right out of my anxiety this evening. From the way he’d opened doors and kept his hand on my back as we’d walked into the restaurant, to how he made sure everything with the meal was to my liking, he’d gone all out on the charming scale this evening. He’d been a true gentleman, and that fact made me want to rip off his clothes and see how ungentlemanly he could be.

  “So,” he said as he sat down and turned to face me. “We’ve done drinks—”

  “And making out behind the ice rink.”

  Easton laughed all warm and deep. “Yes, completely unplanned but definitely not unwelcome.”

  I bit my lip as he inched closer. “Agreed.”
>
  His eyebrows rose just a bit. “Good to know. So, drinks and make-out time, and now dinner. Does that make this our first official date, our second, or maybe even our third?”

  I pursed my lips, pretending to give his question some serious thought. “Second. Definitely.”

  “Perfect.” He inched closer, setting his beer down as he leaned in.

  “Why perfect?”

  “Because there’s no way I would do this on a first date, but a second seems okay.” Easton leaned farther over me, practically pushing me back against the couch. My mouth went dry. He was going to kiss me. Right there on his couch with no one around to interrupt us. Did I want this? Did I dare throw caution to the wind and just do what my body wanted me to? There would be repercussions. There were always repercussions. I’d never had sex with someone who knew about my fallout, who I knew had seen the tape and been there to witness my crash and burn. Fuck, what if that was the reason he was hanging out with me? What if he just wanted a shot at Cowgirl Vee? What if—

  Easton grabbed something from the table behind me and sat back. The space he left gave me room to breathe, gave me time to think.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, nearly breathless.

  He smiled and held up the remote. “You mentioned zombies the other night at the grocery store. I looked it up, and there’re four movies streaming this month. Thought you might like to watch one.”

  Zombies. He remembered me talking about zombies after I’d hit him with non-organic produce. The man was lethal to my control.

  My lips were on his before I could think, before I could tell myself to hold back. This man—this ridiculously handsome and generous man—had just surprised me in the best way. It wasn’t often people remembered such inconsequential details, and even less likely that they’d take the time to make sure there were zombie movies available to watch before going on a date with me. We hadn’t made plans to come back to his place. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe Easton had hoped the night would end this way. Maybe he’d planned it.