by Marie Harte
“Yum or not, it’s his job to be responsible for the garage, and you’ll notice that over half our lot is full of cars that don’t belong to us.” She knew for a fact that they had come from Webster’s because she’d seen their blue-haired clerk parking them randomly in the lot earlier today.
“So who else was there?” Nina prodded.
“Three other brutes.” Sexy, big, and handsome men with tattoos and attitude. The kind of men her mother had long ago taught her to be wary of.
“God, kill me now. It’s a good thing I’m happily married to my own stud. I can’t believe how close we are to all that man candy.” Nina practically glowed. “Sam is so hunky but scary. He’s got those tattoos all over. I wonder how far down they go?”
“Nina.”
“Then there’s Lou. The brooding Latin lover. I swear, he gives me goose bumps when I see him.”
“What?”
“Johnny Devlin’s a real charmer. He’s the one that looks like a cover model. He flirts a good game, but he’s never been serious. Probably because I’m married.” Nina fingered her ring.
“So glad you remembered,” Cyn muttered, now trying not to laugh. Nina was a petite beauty with blond hair, green eyes, and a sunny personality. It had been a no-brainer as to what her brother saw in Nina. After twelve years, they still had a happy, healthy marriage and two handsome sons to prove it. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you go on about the Webster guys before.”
“My dear husband has.” Nina grinned. “But hey, I let Matt have that girlie calendar in his office at home, so we’re even.”
“You mean his Grannies for Nannies, calendar? The one my mom was in to promote her side babysitting business?”
“Hey, they’re women. They count.”
Cyn laughed. “That’s just mean.”
“And funny. But it’s all good. Matt’s friends with Liam and his guys. Del too. They’re actually a nice bunch of people. And they buy a lot from us. Don’t make enemies,” Nina warned.
Too late. In the month she’d been working in the shop, Cyn had only encountered Del and Liam. A good thing, because she had man issues she was still trying to get over. But a lifetime of disappointments made it a long process.
She now felt a little bad about her behavior in the garage. It was Sanders’s misfortune that she’d talked with one of her chauvinistic ex-business partners prior to dealing with the car situation. Dan Fawkes was such a dick. The word scruples had never entered his pretty little head.
“Sweetheart, let me handle things. We can renegotiate your portion of the distributions, can’t we? I know it’s hard to understand, but—”
“I understand perfectly.” She’d wanted to “sweetheart” him right in the balls, considering they’d already haggled over her fair compensation, per her signed contract. “I did all the work, and you’re taking all the credit.”
“Now you know that’s not true. I’m just better at math. You’re the creative side to our arrangement. And the pretty one. Why, without you on board, I doubt Oglevy would have agreed to talk to me in the first place.” So patronizing. “Don’t worry about it, Cyn. Leave the boring stuff to me. I’ll do the calculations for you, and you can—”
She’d disconnected before he could say any more, texting only to let him know her lawyer would be in touch. She’d ignored his subsequent texts and emails. The oily bastard.
If he thought he could cheat her out of her entitled shareholder distributions, he could think again. She never let anyone screw her over when it came to business.
Now her personal life, on the other hand… That had taken a beating one too many times. But she’d learned. Or so she told herself.
She and Nina worked together to help a few more customers. Funny how the rushes came and went with no discernible pattern, not counting the morning craziness.
“Have I mentioned I’m thinking about becoming the neighborhood cat lady?” she said to Nina just as the bell over the front door chimed again. She finished cleaning up after the last order, not looking at Nina. But her friend’s silence made her curious.
A glance at Nina’s smirk had her groaning inside, because trouble was sure to follow.
“Hey, Foley,” Nina said with way too much pleasure. “How are you?”
“Lookin’ good, Nina. How’s Matt?”
“He’s great. And if he’s smart, he’s done all his Christmas shopping by now. Not like last year’s fiasco.”
The deep chuckle went straight through Cyn…and had her bristling at her reaction.
“I, ah, I’m here to apologize to your friend, actually.”
Cyn took that as her cue to turn around. Hell. Foley Sanders looked even better under the bright lights of the shop. She tried to pretend she wasn’t studying him as intently as he studied her.
But damn, where the hell had he come from? He topped her own grand six feet by a few inches, and even despite his jacket, she couldn’t detect any body fat on the man. He had broad shoulders and—as she vividly recalled from eyeballing him at the garage—huge, tattooed arms.
Short black hair framed a handsome face. Rough and manly. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and that rumpled hair look that on her would have appeared messy but on him shouted “sexy.” Bright gray eyes watched her with caution, showing he had a measure of intelligence under all that muscle and ink.
She steeled herself not to get taken in by so much manliness. Neighborhood cat lady, remember? Besides, his cars are littering the parking lot! Men suck. He’s probably only into skinny chicks anyway.
That made her feel better, imagining his intolerance for real women.
But real women can be any size. Plump or stick thin, fat or slender, tall or… Shut up, Cyn! This isn’t time for a life lesson. Deal with Conan and love your gender later.
“Yes?” she said with an icy politeness that had Nina trying to bite back a grin.
“I’m sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He smiled, but she wasn’t buying the charm. “I’m Foley Sanders.” He held out a hand.
Nina stepped on her foot, and she jerked toward Foley before realizing it. She glared at Nina before reminding herself to be a professional. She’d dealt with overwhelming men before and would no doubt again. So she pasted a smile on her face. “Cyn Nichols.”
He blinked. “You’re related to Matt?”
“Yes, is there a problem with that?” She didn’t even have to pretend to be tired of that question. Matt was so handsome and in shape and popular. What tree had they shaken her out of?
“Not at all.” His grin broadened. “I just hadn’t realized Matt had such a hot sister.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Before I somehow piss you off again, I’m here to get the cars,” he said in a hurry. “Dale, our new guy, must have parked them in the wrong spot. Apparently our agreement was with the sewing place next door, not your parking lot. And I’m sorry I never answered your calls. I misplaced my phone again.” He gave her a disarming smile that—damn it—worked.
She felt herself blushing. “Oh. Sorry if I came on a little strong.” A little? Even she knew she’d been over-the-top bitchy. “It’s just that we had some complaints with customers, and I couldn’t understand why no one had gotten back to me.” She still didn’t understand that. What professional these days ever parted with his or her cell phone? But he’d made amends, so she could forgive him the lapse. “So you’ll move the cars?”
He held up a ring of tagged keys. “Right away, Ms. Nichols.”
“How do you know I’m not a Mrs.?” she asked, annoyed with the assumption. Was she so unattractive and ungainly she couldn’t land a man?
He had the gall to wink and nodded to her hand. “No ring. Trust me. First thing I checked…after that dress. That’s a really, really nice dress you’re wearing.” He let out a small sigh and left before she could th
ink of something to say.
Like I’m sorry for being so damn defensive about my size. It’s not you, it’s me. But then, it’s guys like you who made me this way. Well, you and my mother.
Thoughts of her mother scared her straight. She’d told herself time and time again to stop letting Ella Nichols dictate her feelings about herself. She just needed to follow her own advice.
“Ahem.”
Knowing she had to face the inevitable, she looked at the smug woman standing next to her and groaned at Nina’s wide smile.
“You and Foley Sanders. Oh my God, will you guys have the best-looking, tallest babies or what?”
Chapter 2
“Would you shush.” Cyn looked around to make sure no one stood close enough to hear them. “First of all, I’m off men.”
Nina’s eyes grew to the size of quarters. “So you’re into girls now?”
“No, Ms. Nosy. It’s called celibacy. Well, that and cats.” Though she’d never owned a cat before, they had a reputation for being independent. She could do with companions who didn’t ask too much of her but gave her company nonetheless.
“Um, okay.” Nina let out a whistle. “Even after I just witnessed a fine, fine man flirt with you, you’re still turning to celibacy? Honey, he had that ‘I’m gonna eat you up’ look that every woman wants. I say take a chance.”
“I say no. I’m done with men.” Or at least I’m trying to be done with men. “Five minutes into a date, and I’m watching what I’m eating and gauging everything I say instead of just being me. I don’t need that.” And I’m tired of hoping I’ll one day find Mr. Right.
“Jon was a moron,” Nina said plainly. “Why let him color your idea of men?”
“Because he was just one in a long line of them. I’ve dated my share of judgmental jerks over the years, and frankly, I’m tired.”
“You’re a serial dater, for sure,” Nina said.
“Tall, short, thick, skinny. I used to date with an open mind. My only qualification was that my dates had to be intelligent.”
“I get that. But muscles never hurt.” Nina leered at the doorway through which Foley had exited.
“But even after all those guys, I never found one who actually liked me for me.”
“That’s bullshit.”
Cyn stared. “What?”
“I said that’s bullshit. You’ve had plenty of guys like you. You’re smart and gorgeous, but you use any excuse to stay single.”
“I do not.” Offended, Cyn gave Nina the evil eye.
No doubt used to such a look from Cyn’s brother, Nina ignored it. “Oh? What about Michael?”
“He ate twenty-four hours a day—at my expense,” she exaggerated, though his eating habits had been both costly and bordering on a binge disorder. She would be the last person to discriminate based on size, but Michael had put health far behind him in his goal to eat as much as he could. “His grocery bills rivaled my mortgage.”
“He was training for a marathon.”
“And he could barely run around the block.”
“But he thought you could do no wrong,” Nina continued. “What about Frank?”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“Frank Sheffield was a mama’s boy. Frank Barkin hated gays.”
“Well, there’s that I guess.” Nina rubbed her chin. “How about—”
“Let me stop you right there. Todd was too religious. Deke not religious enough. Fred—”
“What does ‘not religious enough’ mean?”
“He was a nihilist. All doom and gloom. I’m not saying he had to believe in God, but believing in something besides the end of the world would have been nice.”
“Oh.” Nina tried again. “How about—”
“Just stop. Look. I’ve seen plenty of my friends get divorced, and then I see my parents together after forty years, and you and Mattie totally happy.”
“He hates when you call him Mattie.”
Cyn gave an evil, younger-sister smile. “I know. But I also know that marriage is hard work. If I can’t enter into that kind of a relationship with a man I like and respect, and who respects me, it’s all downhill from there.”
“I suppose so. But I still say you’re too fixated on the negative. Because even when a nice guy likes you, you look for flaws, because you don’t think you’re pretty enough, which is just weird. You’re one of the most beautiful women I know.”
Uncomfortable with Nina’s effusive praise, which so contradicted what Cyn had grown up hearing, she changed the subject to a new line of pastries they’d considered showcasing in the store. They continued to work, Cyn helping out behind the counter because the newness of the business excited her. Plus, she had an addiction to coffee. Just being in the shop was enough to make her happy.
They joked with each other and young Nell, who was in the back washing dishes. But Nina kept glancing at the door.
“Stop it.” It had been over half an hour since Sanders had left. Cyn knew. She’d discreetly checked her watch a few times.
“What?”
“I don’t buy that innocent tone. So help me, if you try—”
The door bell jingled, and he walked in, looking too damn fine. The flush on his cheeks and sparkle in his eyes only enhanced his rugged good looks.
Before Cyn could think of what to say to him other than Thanks and Get the hell out before I forget myself, Nina handed him a hot cocoa.
“On the house.” Nina smiled.
Sanders accepted it with thanks. “This is just what I needed. It’s getting really cold out there.”
“But no snow yet?”
“No.” He took a sip, his gaze resting on Cyn. “But if it does and ices over, tomorrow won’t be pleasant.”
“That’s for sure. But we’ll be open. Someone’s got to feed and caffeinate the masses.” Nina said something else while Cyn rang up a waiting customer.
Sanders continued to stand off to the side by the counter, making small talk with Nina about his fellow mechanics.
Without anyone else to wait on, Cyn decided to be the bigger person—no pun intended—and nodded to the man. “Thanks for moving the cars.”
“No problem. I’m sorry they were there to begin with.”
He sounded sincere, and she’d been taught to forgive those who truly wished for forgiveness. But she refused to apologize again for her justly given tirade. Maybe if he thought she was mean, he’d leave her alone. She had only so much willpower, and her heart hadn’t mended from her last live-in disappointment, even eight months after the fact. She’d wasted two years on the man, only to have her relationship collapse on itself because Jon hadn’t accepted that she was always going to be a bigger girl, and she was okay with her size. Well, mostly okay with it.
“Have a nice weekend.” She turned and headed to bus a few tables.
A large shadow followed her.
She swallowed a testy retort and instead used her polite voice. “Um, can I help you with something?” When he said nothing, she turned to see him staring at her.
Okay, rudeness justified a like response.
“Well?” she snapped, her heart racing at the slow start of his panty-melting grin.
“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”
She buried her biological hell yes with a realistic no. Guys this hot wanted only one thing, then went on their merry way. “Thanks, but no.” Most men would leave it at that.
“Why not?” He took another sip of cocoa, his gaze unwavering.
She swallowed a smirk at his persistence, because he’d proven her instincts right. Foley Sanders did not like to lose.
“I’m not into men anymore.”
“You’re into women?”
She sighed. Loudly. “Did Nina put you up to this?”
“H
uh?”
“No, it means I’m off dating. Period. Men are trouble.” She looked him up and down. “And I’ll bet you’re a lot more trouble than you’re worth.”
“Ouch.”
“Yet you don’t deny it.”
“But, Cyn.” He moved closer, and she froze. His voice seemed impossibly deep, and the way he said her name made her want to roll over and beg. “Some trouble is good for the soul.”
“Not the kind you’d be bringing.” She knew that instinctively. “But you seem like a nice guy.” No, he didn’t. “It’s not personal. Just a lifestyle change.” She paused for effect. “I’m celibate. No sex. So even if we did go out, you’d be getting nothing.”
“Not even a kiss?” He smiled at her.
Unbelieving bastard. “Nope. Not even. Now I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work. Not all of us can laze around on a Friday afternoon.” She pointedly looked at him, gave him her “I’m judging you as not worthy” stare, then turned her back on him.
She felt him step away after a moment. But his low laughter reached her before he left. As did his promise that sounded more like a threat. “See you later, Cyn.”
Moments later, she felt another body behind her and knew exactly who it was. “Not now, Nina. I swear, if you blab any nonsense about me and Sanders to Matt, I will fill your boys with candy and hook them on ultraviolent video games.”
Nina snorted. “Nice try. They’re already playing those games, and they’ve systematically found the candy stashes their father has hidden around the house.”
Cyn had to laugh at that. “Matt’s always sucked at hiding things.”
“So try to come up with something better while I design your wedding invitations. Hmm. Mrs. Cynthia Sanders has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
“You’re fired.”
“Ha. I own half of this baby. And don’t you forget it.” Nina left with a snicker.
And this is why you never do business with family.
* * *
Saturday morning, Foley watched his mother make breakfast for him and Sam. He felt bad. It had been a few weeks since he’d shared a meal with her. Foley loved Eileen Sanders more than anything else in the world. The woman had buried a husband she loved when Foley was just four years old. Then she’d raised his troublemaking ass on her own ever since. To have taken in Sam as well? He liked to tease that she’d get into heaven one day for sheer guts alone.
