by Jayne Rylon
He hadn’t sat there very long, wishing he could recall the damn email he’d sent Nola, when a soft ding drew his attention away from the rematch taking place on the big-screen in front of him.
Nola was efficient and prompt in answering correspondence. Why wasn’t he surprised?
What did kind of sneak up on him was the thrill that zinged along his spine at the sight of her name, while he clicked the email in his inbox and anticipated her response as it loaded in the main pane of his browser.
No one’s perfect, I only ask that you’re halfway civilized. ~Nola
A smirk kicked up the corners of his mouth. She hadn’t rubbed his face in his apology or made him defensive with some kind of righteous attack, though she would have been justified in launching one.
That’s a tall order. Did you see the guys I live with? None of us have very good manners. Kaige
P.S. Didn’t you mean ~Ms. Brown?
He failed to mention how he’d wiped pizza grease on his sweats to answer her right away.
I can teach you.
Rule one, don’t growl at people you’ve just met.
Rule two, don’t stare at my boobs. ~Nola
Kaige laughed out loud, drawing curious stares from Bryce and Holden, who were sitting this race out. “Uh, some dumb video on YouTube.”
“Show me.” Carver scooted closer. “I’ve had about as much of Alanso kicking everyone’s ass as usual as I can stand. Why is that fucker so damn good at videogames?”
Kaige ignored his friend’s rhetorical question and the middle finger Al shot in their direction without pausing his winning streak.
“I closed it already.” Nova angled the screen away from Meep when another message followed hot on the heels of the one he hadn’t even replied to yet.
I almost forgot…
Rule three, don’t question your boss’s intentions. He was too sexed up to realize he hurt your feelings by not soliciting your ideas. ~Nola
Nova took her insightful response like a fist to the gut. He sucked in a breath then looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Barracuda glanced over, then went back to reading a transmission manual while Holden surfed the net on his tablet, probably looking for new salvage lots they could raid.
Kaige cleared his throat and tried to ignore the tremble in his hands when he pecked at the keyboard. The stiffness there had nothing to do with his banged-up knuckles. They were healing nice and quick.
Shit, I was that obvious? It’s my fault too. I didn’t show him my plans. But yeah, it pissed me off when I assumed he thought I was too dumb to handle the future of the shop without giving me a real shot first. That had nothing to do with you. I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. NoVa
P.S. I like that our names kind of match.
This time the words came easily. With her helping him find a constructive outlet, he could communicate the thoughts that had been jammed in his mind for hours. If she could do the same at translating his strategies from concept to concrete expressions, they might have a chance at making this thing work after all.
Apology accepted.
Ha ha, I guess they do. I probably would have noticed sooner if my eyes weren’t starting to cross. I’ve been looking at the computer too long! ~NoLa
He glanced at the clock above the TV. It was after midnight already, crap.
I didn’t realize it was so late. Am I keeping you up? Nova
Though he’d had the early shift most mornings lately, he hadn’t once yawned or felt the need to rub his eyes tonight. This could be a really bad sign. If it wasn’t way past their babies’ bedtimes, he would have Facetimed one of Joe’s Powertools crew for some advice he didn’t feel like asking his Hot Rods about just yet.
That might have been a first. Another ding caught his attention.
Nope. I’ve been doing my homework. I have a lot of questions for you. ~Nola
Kaige’s heart kathumped like a car with a catastrophic flat. Was she talking about his history? Had she looked up the youth center where Tom had found him? A few news articles and PR pieces from the past decade might be lingering out in cyberspace somewhere. Would she ask about stuff he didn’t plan to unearth?
As if she could read his unease in his lack of snappy response, she sent a double message.
About the market, I mean. I know a ton about business. Not so much about cars.
Will you be my tutor? ~Nola
The only other people he’d ever met who grasped when to pry and when to back off so seamlessly were the Hot Rods, because they had shady pasts too. He considered her street-tough attitude earlier as well. Could Nola have some dark spots of her own? Could she understand?
Getting ahead of yourself there, Nova, he chastised himself.
Don’t make me picture you wearing a plaid skirt and knee-high socks. Besides, you must know some stuff. You own a car, don’t you? What kind? Nova
He opted for humor instead of the more serious path this conversation could have veered down if he let it.
As he hoped, he unleashed her tiger. Too bad he couldn’t see it, though he could picture it after her brief displays earlier.
Rule two, Nova. Remember, rule two.
A crappy red one. No seriously, I’d have to go look. It’s just a way to get from here to there. Most of the time it doesn’t even break down. ~Nola
Kaige grinned, then typed. I didn’t say a word about your rack.
And you’re killing me here. Nova
He clicked the refresh button on his inbox about thirty times in ten seconds.
Careful or I’ll beat your fine ass with a ruler. I meant what I said to Eli. About the nut kicking.
Don’t worry about my car. It’s had a good life. ~Nola
He snorted, then tried to fake a sneeze when Sally peeked over at him, her eyes wide and unblinking. You think I have a nice ass? Nova
Okay, that’s it. I’m done here. I have a hell of a lot more research to do if I’m going to impress you tomorrow. ~Nola
You’ve already done that. A bunch. Nova
This time her reply was simple. And he could read the seriousness in the two words. Maybe she even referred to more than his compliment. He hoped she meant them for reaching out after he’d nearly wrecked everything. Thank you. ~Nola
It was weird how most times in email, meanings could be lost, but when he talked to Nola, everything seemed clear.
You’re welcome. Seriously. My garage is your garage. Don’t work too hard, though. I’m looking forward to seeing you bright and early tomorrow. Nova
Same goes, Kaige. Good night. ~N
Good night, Nola. The other N
Kaige waited fifteen minutes. Long enough to be sure she’d taken his advice and gone to bed. Thoughts of her long legs sliding beneath her sheets had him clearing his throat and making a break for his room.
He held his computer in front of his crotch like a shield, hoping he could make it to jerk off before anyone stopped him. While they might find another way to relieve him, it didn’t feel right to fantasize about Nola while someone else touched him.
So he dashed to his room, slamming the door harder than intended, and took matters into his own hands.
Nola had barely removed her key from the ignition when Kaige crossed the lot in her direction.
She smiled when he opened her door and gave her a hand out. “Good morning, Super Nova.”
“You were pretty much right about your car.” He tempered the insult with a grin.
“Hey.” Nola whacked him in what had to be a six-pack with the back of her hand before she thought better of it. Her fingers bounced right off. “It gets the job done.”
“That’s like the difference between a cheap vibrator and good sex.” He grinned as they picked up right where they’d left off the night before.
“It gets the job done,” she repeated with a shrug and strutted off before he could add anything spicier than she could stomach, though she wondered what his car looked like and how well he drove
it.
Somehow she didn’t doubt either his machine or his handling were less than spectacular.
While she felt like she’d won him over—Eli, Alanso and Sally too—she still hadn’t met half the gang. First impressions mattered. She didn’t want them to think she mixed business with pleasure to get her way.
Despite the height of her heels, she strode to the garage’s office and let herself inside as Kaige jogged to catch up from where she’d left him, staring with his jaw open, in her dust.
“Glad to see you back.” Eli acknowledged her entrance with a nod.
Had he been waiting for her to run? To call and say she’d reconsidered?
“You’re not going to shake me that easily,” she promised.
“Great.” He smiled, then addressed the man coming up behind her. “Alanso and I set up a whiteboard and some supplies along with your laptop in the break room, Super Nova.”
“Time to get to work then.” Kaige closed his hand around hers, leading her toward the garage and their new pseudo space. His touch warmed her right down to her toes, which curled.
“Well, I thought I’d introduce Ms. Brown to the gang first.” Eli eyed Nova warily, as if waiting for him to spring some kind of trap.
Nola suspected he had another prize in mind after their conversation last night.
“I’ll show her around, Cobra. If the goal is for you to concentrate on pulling together the wedding, then you’d better quit screwing around with us. Two weeks sounds friggin’ impossible, but what do I know? I’ve never even been to a wedding before.” He shrugged.
“Really? Never?” Nola faced him, her head tilted a little. Genuine curiosity drew her to the desolation she caught flickering through his gaze from time to time. She was glad he’d have this experience to share with his friends. Unless her mom and sister had been right.
What if he was jealous?
“Are you sure?” Eli asked at the same time Nola spoke. He had to be wondering if Kaige’s about-face was genuine. It was as drastic as punk kids doing donuts in the middle of an abandoned parking lot before delivering meals to elderly people in their neighborhood. “Ms. Brown’s sister—”
“Really, Eli.” She reminded him again, “Call me Nola. My sister is Amber. Otherwise, I’ll start referring to you as Mr. London.”
Both Eli and Kaige laughed at that.
“What?” She tried not to catch their infectious smiles.
“You’ll meet Tom soon.” Kaige squeezed her hand, reminding her that he hadn’t let go. “Eli’s father. He’s…”
“All of the Hot Rods’ dad.” Cobra finished when Nova stumbled. “Anyway, yeah… Amber worked some miracles and got us everything we needed. The catch is the officiator. She’s booked every other weekend this summer. Our only shot is the Saturday after next. Otherwise, we have to wait until fall. Frankly, the sooner the better, in my book. I’ve been tasked with calling people to invite them personally since we don’t have enough time—or really any desire—to do the whole fancy mailing, calligraphy bullshit.”
“Sounds like you’d better get your ass in gear.” Nova used his free hand to smack Eli’s aforementioned buns, then continued tugging her toward their main workspace.
Nola tried desperately not to gawk as the bond between the Hot Rods became more and more evident. She’d never seen men work so intimately as a team. Their friendship—and even that seemed like a weak label for what she witnessed—glowed bright and strong.
Making mental notes, she put a giant checkmark next to charisma as one of the garage’s strengths. Customers would be able to sense the energy they kept around them and the love they had for their labors. Essence like that couldn’t be taught and it had no price tag when it came to giving a business that extra, indefinable something that would bring clients flocking in and staying loyal. A huge point in their favor already.
Though Kaige had come on strong, making no excuses for his familiarity after last night’s email exchange, she couldn’t muster up the willpower to shake loose from his grip. She pretended she worried about her stilettos slipping on the painted concrete floor instead of admitting the man had some kind of spell on her. Nova tempted her to ditch what she thought of as her professional costume and be herself. The real Nola Brown. Something she refused to do at work ordinarily. Confusing her career with her personal life had never been an issue.
She didn’t plan for that poor judgment to begin today either.
First up, Kaige led her to the gap between two cars. Both were lifted to waist level. Delicious, very able-bodied men lounged partially beneath them. Dirt and grease only added to their lethal sex appeal.
“Barracuda, Meep, roll out for a minute.” Kaige knocked the steel-toe of his scuffed black boot against a wooden dolly. “There’s somebody here I’d like you to meet.”
Warmth radiated from Kaige’s broad hand as he finally relinquished hers. Instead of using it to cradle her fingers, he settled it in the dip of her waist and guided her nearer to his hard body to avoid any accidental contact from his fellow garagemates. Nola had to restrain herself. Otherwise she would be purring like a kitten and curling closer to his protective touch.
This was bad.
Really bad.
From their website profiles, she knew the pair as Roman and Carver, though she tacked their nicknames on to the mental outline she assembled for each man.
As the guys unfurled themselves and stood, the whrrrp of a pneumatic impact wrench—at least she guessed that’s what the tool was from her studies the night before—grew silent. The racket echoed then faded, sounding less like pit road at one of the stock car races her sister liked to scout for hot racers and more like an empty hall.
Amber would die when she heard today’s updates on Nola’s new assignment.
Her sister could keep stinky wedding duty.
Kaige called over his shoulder, “Hey, Bryce. Grab Swinger and come here a minute, would you?”
Nola couldn’t quite make out the grumbled response, in a bass so deep it defied her hearing, but Carver must have been better at deciphering his friend’s speech. He translated for her. “He’s coming, just needed to finish screwing something in.”
“If you weren’t here, we’d probably make a crass joke about Rebel’s ability to screw.” Kaige winked at her, still with that damn hand on her. When she tried to step away, he shifted to maintain contact. Heat seeped through her blazer and the thin silk blouse beneath it straight into her spine, making it as limber and melty as the rest of her insides.
Another pair of mechanics joined their semicircle when beckoned, completely overloading her with their potent testosterone barrage. Roman and Carver were wirier compared to the bulk of Bryce or the sleek yet defined muscles Holden sported.
Each of them took turns giving her a wave instead of a handshake since they claimed they didn’t want to muss her up. She wondered for a moment if they were sensing some of the stake Kaige had made.
Half of her didn’t mind in the least, the other portion was outraged. Determining the appropriate response was impossible when caught in the crosshairs of their intense scrutiny. Their deceptively relaxed postures, leaning against toolboxes or a stack of wheels, didn’t fool her in the least. They sized her up like a pack of dogs circling prey or maybe a potential mate.
“Nola and Nova.” Holden chuckled. “You sorta rhyme. How cute!”
Kaige glowered at his friend—Swinger, they’d called him. How would she ever learn their names and their nicknames?
Nova’s sour face only proved he was hot no matter what. Damn, when had she ever seen a man as fine as him?
Not even on TV.
His Ken-doll coloration could have made him too pretty if it weren’t for all the other pure maleness on top. Scruff roughed up his jaw, shadowing his paler skin with stubble. His dreads were messy chic, and impressive for a white boy. Bold, colorful tattoos drew her attention to his sculpted arms. They peeked out from beneath the grease-stained white wife-beater that he wore b
eneath navy-blue coveralls embroidered with the Hot Rods logo, now bunched around his waist.
Some evil part of her yearned to tug, just a little, and bare his high, tight ass. Though she’d refused to answer him in their emails. Hell, yeah. She had nothing to complain about there.
Nola shifted her weight from one high heel to the other, pressing her thighs together as subtly as possible. She played with the buttons on her blouse while she waited for someone to break their awkward silence.
“Just so you know, you don’t have to dress like a stuffy old librarian to be taken seriously around here.” Bryce’s wide smile took the edge of his bluntness. “Jeans and a T-shirt would be more practical. Feel free to go slobby, like us.”
“Don’t mind him.” Holden smacked the big guy in the gut. His fist bounced off as though it were a gnat. “Rebel hates formalities of any type.”
“I like to think I measure a person’s worth on their actions, not their presentation of themselves to the world or by any physical belongings they possess.” Bryce’s quiet, persuasive tone demonstrated why he held the customer service position in the group. Reserved, yet eloquent, he navigated tricky waters with ease.
It was apparent that money meant nothing to him as a gauge for wealth. Nola could understand. She’d done her research last night and found they’d all been taken in by Tom London. Like her and Amber, none of them had started the game of life with an unfair advantage handed down by their parents.
They hadn’t had shit to their names. It hadn’t changed who they were. Not Nola, or her sister. And it didn’t seem like it had impacted these guys either. The most valuable things they had came from within. Honor and dignity measured above everything.
She could relate.
A tendril of admiration wove through her, only increasing her damned attraction to the man beside her and his pretty awesome friends. Keep your mind on business. Helping out their garage will be the best you can do for all of you.
