by Mandy Harbin
They were only about seven miles from Mayflower, another Arkansas town. She hadn’t been back in this state since right after going into hiding. It took her almost the entire two years to get used to southern life when she and Scott were yanked out and placed out west. She was a northerner at heart who liked the laid-back atmosphere down here, but she refused to say things like y’all and fixin’. She had her pride.
A loud pop jolted Xan out of her reverie. The sudden profuse smoke barreling out of the hood of her hatchback threw her into a panic. She gasped a curse, struggling to steer the car onto the shoulder, which was difficult since the power steering decided to evaporate into nothingness as soon as the car died.
“Mom, watch out!”
Yeah, Xan saw it. A pothole. “I’m trying,” she gritted.
The car hit the gnarly imperfection as her not-always-trusty hatchback came to a stop. At least they were completely off the highway. She slumped against her seat, feeling her heart race. It seemed to be pounding even harder now that they were stopped. She so didn’t need this. Agent Parsons decided on this move right at the end of summer. Scott’s school and her new job started in two days, so she only had the weekend to get settled. Granted, they lived light, never knowing when they’d have to move on a moment’s notice, but two days wasn’t long enough even for the minimalist of packers. And now their one means of transportation was toast. Ugh! She was sick of running.
She grabbed her cellphone, but she didn’t have a signal out here in the middle of nowhere. Surprise, surprise. She got out of the car, covered her eyes to block the blazing sun as she looked down the road. “That sign says it’s one mile to town.” She sighed, shaking her head. “C’mon.”
He got out of the car, walking over to her. “Do you want me to carry some of our bags?”
“Nope, lock it. We’ll come back later to get everything.”
As they started down the road, Xan sighed. This wasn’t a good way to start their new life in this town. Nope, not good at all.
* * * * *
“Oh thank God. There’s an auto shop,” Scott groaned as they rounded the corner after walking about two miles. They’d entered town about a mile ago as the sign had indicated but had only encountered a ranch and a farm as of yet.
“Watch your mouth, and you shouldn’t be complaining. You’re young and in shape.” She, on the other hand, was a melting, miserable mess.
“It’s a million degrees out here, Mom.”
Try a million and one. Yeah, it was hot as hell. “Quit your bellyaching.”
They walked up to an opened fence and Xan silently thanked the heavens for small favors. The garage looked as if it was open. They walked through the gate and into the old building with several antique and late-model cars out front. Walking through the front door, she braced herself for the blast of cold air to hit her face, relishing the thrill of the artificial air she was about to gloriously encounter.
She was sorely disappointed. It was hotter in here than it was outside. How was that even possible? Her wet clothes clung to her sweaty body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Didn’t matter. She was past humility at this point. She’d have a teenage moment and flash her boobs, sweat and all if necessary, to get someone to help them out.
“May I help you?” a man with a gravelly voice asked as he walked into the makeshift lobby next to the bays, wiping his hands on a grease rag. He looked to be middle-aged, though she wasn’t sure since he was bald. No gray hair to help her out with that assessment.
She looked at his nametag sewn into his shirt. “Yes, Colonel, is it?” At his smile and nod, she said, “Our car broke down a couple miles down the road.”
A metal crash and very masculine curses mixed with raucous taunting and laughter startled her. Scott snickered at the colorful words coming from the bays. He’d heard them plenty of times, though Xan tried not to talk like that. Really, she did try to deny her sailor-mouth tendencies. She just wasn’t very good at restraining herself all the time.
“Sorry,” Colonel mumbled. “Those are my mechanics, trying to catch up on some work. I took over this garage after I realized being retired was boring, and we stay pretty busy. Seems like I’m constantly hiring more help, but we stay behind.”
The ruckus from the bays was finding its way into the lobby. Several guys walked into the room, and Xan felt a slight panic attack coming on. She not only lacked a love life, but she tended to avoid large groups of men. She didn’t have anything against the male population, but after marrying into the mafia at a young age, dodging copious amounts of testosterone seemed like a good self-preservation tactic to live by. So she did, and when she wasn’t prepared to interact with schools of men, her stomach took a nosedive when thrust into that very situation.
Taking a covert calming breath so she wouldn’t look like some skittish girl, she tried to pay closer attention to each of the men as they came near. If she identified them individually, she could pretend she wasn’t dealing with a mob of men.
A mob of seemingly beautiful, large, masculine men, looking to be around her age.
Oh shit. She so did not need this. Her nerves and sense of self-preservation took on a whole new meaning. She’d rather deal with certain fear than possible attraction.
As she surveyed the crowd, she noticed their looks were as various as the candy selection at the last gas station she’d stopped at. Male sweetness was not better than chocolate. She just had to remind herself of that as she stared at the variety before her. One guy had black hair, another blond, spiked all crazy. The two next to the hot version of Billy Idol had long dark-brown hair and curly light-brown hair. There was another bald guy bringing up the rear, but that one had a goatee with green eyes. Colonel had brown eyes and was definitely older than this group that’d just come in.
“Where’s Brutus?” Colonel asked the guys.
The dude with the spiky blond hair chuckled. “He’s cleaning up his mess.”
“It wasn’t his mess, asshole. You’re the one who knocked the tray over,” Mr. Black Hair said with a snarl. Xan instinctively took a step back.
“Easy, Roc,” Colonel said and looked at her. “This is Roc.” He pointed to the cranky man with black hair. “Blade,” he gestured toward the spiky blond guy. His name made sense. His hair looked sharp enough to hurt if he were to head-butt someone.
“I’m Hunter,” the man with long brown hair said, and then he pointed to the guy with curly brown hair. “That’s Gage. He’s not as mean as Roc, but don’t get too close to him.” He chuckled.
“Fuck off, Hunter,” Gage growled.
“See?” Hunter snickered. “And that guy over there—”
“I’m Bear, and Hunter’s a dick.” He ducked his head and glanced at Scott. “Oh sorry. He’s, er, I mean he’s a punk.”
Scott laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve heard it all. You should hear my mom talk. She has the biggest potty mouth.”
Xan gasped. “I do not.”
“Wow, he’s your kid?” Blade asked. “Did you have him at twelve?” He laughed but with sincerity twinkling in his eyes.
“Just about,” she murmured.
After a few of the guys laughed, she immediately relaxed. Sure, they were all very handsome. None looked to be shorter than six feet, and each had a body to die for, though each had a unique look all his own. But she didn’t feel any sparks, so she felt relieved. Maybe her libido was broken. If so, she was fine by that. She didn’t need any man drama in her life.
Why did that make her feel a little depressed? She shook off that thought. She couldn’t get caught up with any man, so there really was no need dwelling on the things she couldn’t have, like love, companionship, trust and sex. God, she’d love to have sex again.
Maybe in another life.
Focusing her attention back on the problem at hand, she looked at the assembled group of men. “Look. We need our car towed and a ride to a car rental company. Can you help us?” Xan asked the guys in general so as not to single anyone
out.
Blade’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d love to give you a ride, doll.” Even though his tone was clearly teasing, she stiffened. Flirting was definitely not her forte.
Hunter whistled while shaking his head in exasperation. “Back off, Blade.” He looked at Xan. “Sorry about Rico Suave over here. One of us would be glad to help you out. But you’d have to drive up to Conway or back to the Little Rock area for a rental. Best to call around first before making the drive.”
“I’ll call Bill and see if he can drive one out here,” Colonel said to Hunter, then looked at her. “He owns the rental company in Conway. If they have something he’ll bring it out here and save you a trip. You’ll be limited on your options, though.”
“Oh, whatever it is will be a step up from my old hatchback. I’m not choosy.”
Colonel nodded and looked at the guys expectantly. “Which one of you is available to help her out?”
“Bear and I aren’t finished with the tranny that’s supposed to be ready tomorrow,” Roc barked and turned to leave. He obviously wasn’t volunteering. Xan was okay with that. She didn’t like the vibe coming off him, anyway.
“Sorry.” Bear smiled to her as he followed Roc.
“Gage and I have to finish puttin’ tires on Ms. Carson’s minivan, then do Joe’s,” Blade told Colonel before turning to Xan. “I’d be happy to help you if you stick around, doll. It shouldn’t take us more than an hour.”
“Get to work,” Colonel snapped, and Blade winked at her as he and Gage headed back to the bays.
“I have one more oil change to do, so I can do it in fifteen,” Hunter said with a crooked smile, “but Brutus just finished up on Mr. Jackson’s ’56 Chevy. He’s been pickin’ up the tools that Blade knocked over after Blade called him a pussy.”
Oh, right. She’d forgotten there was another one around here. Brutus it seemed. What was with these names? Must be a man thing, not that she’d know. Or could even begin to understand the inner workings of the male brain, ego, or whatever it was that fueled their behavior. Oh, once upon a time, she knew one part of the male anatomy that tended to lead in the decision-making process, but she’d long ago fell out of practice with that too.
Hunter glanced at Scott, remembering there was an impressionable young man in his midst, looking contrite and shaking his head. “Sorry, man.”
“Go,” Colonel told him. “Brutus!”
Hunter left, but his departure barely registered. Just as he was walking toward the bay area, a man with long blonde hair and built like a freaking bodybuilder walked her way. With each step, his muscles rippled and his hair—what wasn’t sticking to his sweaty brow—flowed in waves behind him.
She should not find this man attractive. She didn’t care for bulky men, and she definitely preferred short hair on the opposite sex. Long hair belonged on women, like she used to have, but she wasn’t dredging that memory up now.
So why was her body doing things she hardly recognized. Hardly recognized, not didn’t recognize. She knew what that tingling sensation in her pussy meant. The tightening of her nipples? Yeah, she knew what that meant too. Images filled her mind of this behemoth of a man coming over her in bed and doing very naughty things to her. She stifled a moan. Yeah, she shouldn’t find him attractive because he didn’t fit any description of her ideal type. But there was no mistaking the fact that her body didn’t get that memo.
So much for not being attracted to any of the mechanics here.
As Mister Hold-Me-Down-and-Fuck-Me-Good walked up, his pupils dilated, turning his dark-blue eyes black as his nostrils flared, his gaze zeroing in on the tight buds of her nipples before locking with her own heated eyes. Good thing she was already wet from sweat because her panties just got wetter.
She shut her eyes to break the connection her body was trying to make with this man. She had to be smart and remember all the reasons men were not a part of her life. She could use him as masturbating material. Nothing more, dammit.
She wasn’t going to break her abstinence streak for anyone, especially not a man who could quite possibly fight off every one of the other mechanics singlehandedly. She didn’t know him from Adam, and the last—the only—relationship she’d ever had was abusive. Hell, Marco tried to kill her in the end. She had to find the strength to avoid any and all temptation this sex god presented.
And she would. She was just strong enough to resist a man built like he could break her face.
Because if she didn’t, she knew she was just weak enough to let him break her heart.
Chapter Two
Brody stared at the slender, dirty lady covered in sweat and eyeballing him with a mixture of weariness and arousal and maybe even a little fear, and he couldn’t shake the dual sensations rocking him at the sight of her.
This first one was primal, carnal. He wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman before. Oh, he’d had his share of women, so he wasn’t delusional enough to think this was love at first sight or some stupid shit like that. It had to be because of his recent dry spell in the lady department. Even covered in a little grime, she was a babe. Her hair was a tangled mess with tendrils clinging to her neck, her blue eyes, lighter than his, shuttered. She had secrets she didn’t want to reveal, which was fine by him. He didn’t need to know about them.
He had no problem fucking a woman without getting mixed up in her personal business, but the tall kid standing next to her screamed hands-off. Brody was a selfish bastard, but even he had his morals. Well, maybe not morals, but he had his limits. He didn’t do married women or single moms, and she was obviously at least one of the two. There were plenty of willing, unattached women available, ripe for his choosing, so getting mixed up with some lady carting baggage was not in the cards for him.
But that wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t indulge with this woman. The other sensation rocking him, besides the immediate carnal attraction, was a feeling he knew her from somewhere. It was more than a feeling. He was sure of it. The flash of memory he had was of a younger, more polished version of this woman and was too quick to analyze, but it was definitely her.
And considering he’d suffered a brain injury, causing him to only remember the last decade or so of his life, he couldn’t place how he knew her. There was no way he was getting involved with a woman he may or may not already know intimately. And if the reason he knew her wasn’t along those lines, then he didn’t want to know the extent of their previous association. Brody had lived a reckless, dark life before his accident. He didn’t want any ghosts coming back to haunt him, no matter how beautiful the ghost incarnate was.
Colonel was the only one who had much luck finding any specifics about his life prior to his amnesia. He’d been the one to find Brody in the northern part of the state on the side of the road, sans car and any identification, and called an ambulance. Brody remembered coming to in the hospital but had no recollection of any memory prior. He’d contacted the authorities to see if he could be identified through fingerprint matches. Hell, he knew the risk he was taking going that route. If he’d had a record, he could’ve had a warrant out for his arrest or something, but not knowing was killing him.
It’d been a dead end. And knowing what he now knew about his past life, that in and of itself was a miracle. He must’ve been really good at being bad to avoid any arrests.
“Brutus, I need you to take the wrecker out to get Ms. Bradley’s car.”
Brody’s eyes cut to Colonel. With a short nod, he turned his attention back to the lady. “You ready, Ms. Bradley?”
Her eyes widened slightly as she nodded, clutching her purse as if it were some kind of lifeline or something. He motioned for them to follow him out to the wrecker, then headed that way.
“Dude, you’ve got serious muscles,” the kid said as he opened the door for his mom while Brody grunted in response and walked around to the driver’s side. He probably should’ve opened her door for her instead. It would’ve been the polite thing to do, but chivalry wasn’t
really his thing. He didn’t try to be an asshole. He was just a loner, kept to himself for many reasons, including his shady past and the unorthodox demands of his side job. Unless he needed to spend a little time between a woman’s legs, and he never really had to go out of his way to impress a woman just to fuck her. Chicks seemed to flock to him, and he was A-okay with that. Still, irritation prickled that he should’ve opened her door for her. At least the kid was on the ball.
They packed into the bench seat, the mom sitting in the middle. Good thing he had jeans on because her delicate, bare leg rested against his. Not that it mattered. He could feel the heat of her skin burning into his thigh. He figured she’d at least stink since she was sweating like a horse, but no, he couldn’t be that lucky. She smelled like vanilla and woman. Aroused woman. His dick twitched and he shifted subtly. He really didn’t need a hard-on with her kid in here.
She cleared her throat softly and he glanced at her. “Brutus is it? I’m Xan and this is my son, Scott.”
At the sound of her voice, that old vision of her flashed in his head. For some reason, he didn’t remember her sounding like an angel. “Er, nice to meetcha. Brody’s my name, but Brutus is my handle.”
“Your handle?”
“Nickname. What I go by. We all have them.” And the last thing he wanted to talk about was nicknames. In fact, he didn’t want to talk at all. He just wanted to get their car and get back to the garage so he could get out of this tiny cab. It was getting smaller as his dick was getting harder. If he didn’t find a distraction soon, he’d have a permanent zipper imprint on his cock.
“What are the other guy’s real names?” she asked as she pointed to the green hatchback on the side of the road.
“Ask them. Not for me to tell.” He pulled over and backed up to their car.
“Wow, it only took like a minute to get back out here after walking all the way to the garage,” Scott said as he jumped out of the cab.
