Revved (Axle Alley Vipers)
Page 2
Goddammit.
She didn’t want to touch him. Somehow she knew it would be a huge mistake to let him wrap that big mitt around hers. But what could she do? He’d already called her out on her shitty customer service skills, and what if he wanted to hire them? Alex would skin her alive if she cost them a job just because the guy happened to be a major asshole.
Reaching out, she reluctantly took his hand. Rough, extremely rough skin scraped over hers, making her shiver. It was warm and huge, and sent tingles skating up her arm. She looked up into those unusual, light brown eyes ringed with gorgeous thick black lashes, and he stared right on back.
His nostrils flared, and one side of his mouth lifted a fraction. “This is the part where you tell me your name?”
Arrogant jackass. He hadn’t let her go, so she yanked her hand free. “Rusty West.”
“Rusty.”
He repeated her name carefully, in that low, rough voice, like he was tasting it on his tongue, and she felt it pull low in her belly. What the hell was wrong with her? “That’s me, now what do you want?”
Alex gave her a second jab in the ribs. “Rusty.”
“What?”
Reid chuckled, raspy and deep, and disturbingly she felt that as well, right between her thighs, like he’d pressed his mouth there and dragged his tongue over her rapidly dampening flesh. “Do you have another name, or is Rusty the one your mama gave you?”
She ignored the pulse throbbing deep inside and crossed her arms. “It’s the only name you need to know, Chuckles.”
He grinned. Fucking grinned, and hot turned into freaking gorgeous. Even his slightly crooked nose, which had obviously been broken at least once, didn’t detract from what he had going on. “I guess now I know why that Customline is parked in your workshop instead of mine.”
What?
“What did you just say?” Alex said before Rusty could, planting her hands on her hips, a frown turning down her lips.
He pointed to his forearm, above his expensive-looking watch, where beside a thick-edged star and incorporated into what appeared to be serpent’s scales inked onto his skin, were the letters R.I.P., bold and clear. “Seems you’ve been poaching my customers, ladies.”
Reid Parker!
Holy shit. She’d been too annoyed when he’d said his name for it to sink in. Reid Parker owned R.I.P. Classics, the largest car restoration shop in Miami. But this guy didn’t just own one shop, oh no, he owned several scattered across the country. R. I. P. were his initials, and paired with the huge ex-hearse he reportedly drove—and though she would never admit it out loud—was kind of clever and a lot cool.
But whatever, she refused to be impressed, mainly because the guy was a major douche bag.
She didn’t give a flying turd who he was, and there was no way in hell she’d let this asshole try to intimidate them.
“How do you figure that?” Rusty said, planting her hands on her hips as well.
His dark brows lifted. “That car came into my shop for a quote a few weeks ago, but somehow ended up here. Now I know it can’t be price. And seeing the way you do things here, it can’t be speed, either. So…” He gave her a slow and extremely thorough head to toe and shrugged. As if that said it all.
She took a step closer, so they were only a foot apart, and dammit, she was sure she could feel heat radiating off that big body. Screwing up her face, she returned the gesture, taking him in slowly. The guy was huge everywhere, as a matter of fact. Well over six feet, he towered over her.
She was supposed to be giving him a taste of his own sexist medicine, but she found herself drinking the big bastard in.
His dark brown hair was pulled back in a knot, low on his head. A few strands had broken free, and he’d tucked them behind his ear. Whiskers shadowed his jaw, the short beard clipped so it looked like he hadn’t shaved for a week or two. And his skin was dark. He either spent a lot of time in the sun, or maybe had some Hispanic blood in there somewhere. Her eyes dropped, then trailed back up. Worn jeans hugged his long legs to perfection, as did the plain black tee he wore, which showed off the ink covering most of his arms and neck.
She felt her nipples stiffen and quickly crossed her arms to cover the effect he was having on her body. Scowling up at him, she pushed her anger to the forefront. “That car is here because our skill, our workmanship…our finished product surpasses yours in every way. End of story. I’d say I’m sorry your male ego has taken a beating over the fact that three women can do what you so obviously can’t, but I’m not sorry in the least. We’ve worked hard for this, and we’ve earned it.” She shrugged like he had. “Deal with it.”
He tilted his head to the side, eyes still locked on her, a giant damned cat about to pounce. “This kind of work is time consuming. How do you plan to keep afloat while you’re sourcing new jobs?”
“Sourcing new jobs hasn’t been a problem for us.”
That killer smile reappeared. “I’ll bet.”
Was he trying to piss her off on purpose, or was he really this much of a dick? “You really think someone would lay down a shitload of cash just to get a look at us in grease-stained coveralls? Really? Our customers don’t mind the extra time and are happy to pay the extra money because they know when they see the final result, when they drive their car out of here, they’re driving away in a work of art. No amount of factory-built, rush jobs can compete with that, and you know it, or you wouldn’t be here.”
One of his shoulders lifted, then dropped. “You’re right.”
“Come again?” Alex said beside her.
“I agree. You’re providing a service that people want, and you’re doing it fucking well. But our work’s not inferior.” He was addressing Alex but didn’t take his eyes off Rusty.
“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one,” Alex said, smirking. The phone in the office rang, and she excused herself to rush off and answer it, leaving Rusty alone with tall, dark, and chauvinistic.
“Do you know how long I’ve been in this business? How many shops I own?”
“Considering I had no idea who you were until you walked in here, you figure it out.” Of course she knew who he was, everyone in this business knew Reid Parker. She just hadn’t expected him to walk into her garage with his designer tighty-whities in a wad, gloating about his numerous shops and flashing around a watch that was probably worth more than their entire business, even though they’d been steadily stealing work from him.
The way he shook his head, the lift of those lips, he knew she was full of it. “I own ten shops, and R.I.P. is the biggest in this city. I think I know a thing or two.”
He may as well have just pulled out his bank statement and shoved it in her face. But the guy wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not her. To be his age and have all that he did, Reid Parker had received more than a helping hand. She’d bet her truck he had a rich daddy behind the scenes throwing money at him. Well, they’d worked their asses off to get where they were now. They didn’t owe him a damn thing. “Big doesn’t necessarily mean better, Chuckles.”
He took a small step closer. He wasn’t exactly in her face but close enough that he’d entered her personal space. It was a struggle to hold her ground with all the intense hot-man vibes he was throwing off. “That’s what people generally say when they’re…small. But I guess you could be right there, too.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Big feels pretty damn good, though, don’t you think, Rusty?”
She got the feeling they weren’t talking about cars anymore. Her gaze dipped before she could stop herself, taking in the impressive bulge behind his fly. She heard him suck in a rough breath.
Busted.
Looking up at him, she did her best to ignore the interest she saw blazing there, or the way it made her feel, and took a retreating step. “Dude, I don’t know what you’re on about. It’s been real and all, truly, but I’ve got work to do and that doesn’t include standing around talking in riddles with you.”
She turned to leave, but
he grabbed her arm and pulled her gently toward him. Those tingles returned full force, lifting the hairs on her arms, making her shiver, making her want to move in closer to that hot body.
He let go but managed to pin her to the spot with his intense gaze. “Come by the shop sometime. Let me show you around, show you how we do things.” The grin was back. “You never know, you might learn a thing or two.”
Was he for real? “I doubt that. And if this is your way of asking me out…”
“If I was asking you out, you’d know it.” The words were nothing but a deep rumble, and heat flooded her system in an unsettling wave.
Okay. Why did that make her feel oddly disappointed? A first, for sure. Usually, she hated it when a guy asked her out five seconds after meeting her. Nothing pissed her off more. But this bastard confused her, made her feel something she hadn’t felt in years. Lust. Hot and intense, strong enough that she knew her vibrator would be getting a workout tonight…and who she’d be thinking about when she got herself off.
Going anywhere near this guy would be a huge mistake, for several reasons. No way would she take him up on his offer. Despite her curiosity and the chance to check out the competition, an inside look at how they do things big at R.I.P. Classics, she knew this guy was a threat to her in more ways than she could count.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath, Chuckles.” Her voice came out a little breathy, which pissed her the hell off. As far as she was concerned, showing weakness in front of a man—any man—was stupid. She’d had that lesson hammered home fairly early. It’d come in the form of a broken heart, humiliation that still made her cringe to this day, and the complete and utter annihilation of her self-respect.
That big mitt appeared again and wrapped around her fingers, and those gorgeous thickly lashed eyes locked on hers. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Rusty West. The offer’s open if you change your mind.” Then he released her hand and strode through the double-wide roller doors, out to the parking lot.
Piper chose that moment to tear in, sun glinting off her pink Corvette. Parking her car, her younger sister climbed out, her mass of blond hair, pulled high in a ponytail, shining brightly. Dressed in work boots, ripped jeans, and pink tank covered in grease stains, she looked cute; she also looked what she was, a mechanic. Piper stopped dead when she saw Reid striding through the doors. Rusty also didn’t miss the way the guy shook his head as he walked past her younger sister, obviously figuring out who she was. In fact, Rusty found herself grinning as well.
He disappeared around the corner, and though she couldn’t see it, she heard him fire his car to life. The engine rumbled and growled, and a minute later, his huge black hearse drove through the parking lot, business name emblazoned on the side.
Jesus.
Overcompensating for something maybe? As much as she loved that idea, she knew it wasn’t true. The guy didn’t need to overcompensate for a damn thing.
She watched him pull out onto the street and drive away.
Piper stopped beside her. “Was that…”
“Yep.” Rusty turned a shit-eating grin on her sister. “We’ve got him worried. No other reason he’d show up here. He was scoping out the competition.”
She paled. “Was he angry when he saw the Customline?”
“Surprised would be a more accurate description.”
Alex joined them. “What were you two talking about for so long? The guy looked like he wanted to put you in his pocket and take you with him by the time he left.” Her friend snorted. “We’re just lucky Deke dropped me off and didn’t stick around.”
Alex was not wrong. Rusty and Piper’s older brother Deacon had a tendency to be a little overprotective of them. Though, he’d mellowed a little since he’d finally put an engagement ring on Alex’s finger.
“Really?” Piper turned her full attention to Rusty.
She felt her skin heat, and not just from the blazing midday sun. “He wanted me to pay R.I.P. a visit. Apparently, he can show me a thing or two.”
Alex’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, and she shook her head. “Yeah, I’ll bet. I take it you’re not going?”
“Nope.” Going anywhere near that man would be bad for her health, she knew it with one-hundred percent certainty. “He’s just another rich, entitled asshole. Those types tend to have a deluded view of themselves. Like all they have to do is click their fingers and everyone will come running.”
Piper crossed her arms. “Well, I think you should go. We’re just starting out, and we could learn a thing or two from someone like him.”
Alex patted Piper’s shoulder and stared at her in a way that said she thought she’d lost a few vital brain cells. “It’s not his workshop he wants to show our girl, Pipe.” Then she tilted her head to Rusty.
And there it was. The truth of it. Reid Parker was the same as nearly every other guy she’d met. They saw the face, the hair, the tits and ass, but they never bothered to look at what was underneath. She should be used to it by now, but this time it stung a little more than it should.
Piper’s mouth formed an O, then she scowled, pissed on her behalf. “Jerk.” Then a small smile lifted her plump lips. “You know, Dad would have loved that.”
“I doubt that very much.”
She snorted. “The guy hitting on you part? Oh, hell no. But knowing we’d gotten under the competition’s skin? That would have totally made his day.”
Rusty grinned as well. “You’re not wrong.”
They’d lost him eight months ago, a massive heart attack taking him from them without warning. Not a day passed when she didn’t wish he was here with them, that he was here to see this. See what they’d accomplished. He’d taught her, Piper, and Alex—since their friend had practically lived with them—everything he knew about cars, about the business. Her mother had hated it, but thankfully, he hadn’t agreed with her opinion that a garage was no place for girls.
But then her mother had walked, taken off and left them behind. They’d moved into the cottage next to the garage with their grandmother. And her father—her father had changed. He’d lost something, lost the drive to make more of this place. Gave up his dream, the dream she’d heard him talk about for as long as she could remember. To one day specialize in classic car restoration.
Well, they were doing it. Not only fulfilling his dream, but theirs as well.
As far as she was concerned, Reid Parker could go suck it. All the guy had managed to do today, coming here, darkening their door, was prove they were doing something right.
She refused to waste another second thinking about him. In fact, she wanted to forget about him all together. Forget about that panty-melting voice, those intense eyes…that massive bulge behind his zipper.
Stop!
“The excitement’s over. Let’s get back to work,” she said, cutting off her thoughts before she changed her mind and took him up on his offer. She had no doubt he could show her more than a thing or two.
Alex and Piper drifted off to get on with it, and Rusty did the same. This, right here, was all she needed. This made her happy, kept her fulfilled. She didn’t need anything else.
She kept telling herself that every time a pair of pale brown eyes shifted through her mind, ignoring that when they did, her heart beat a little faster.
Chapter Three
“Yeah, I put the leftovers in the fridge.” Reid grinned to himself. Whenever he had dinner with his mom, he came home with enough food to last a week.
A car door slammed. He looked up in time to see Dominic, his apprentice, come flying into the garage, looking flustered as hell. He was thirty minutes late. This was not new, had been happening at least once or twice a week for the last month.
“I gotta go, Ma. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He ended the call, then opened the door to the workshop. Dom was frantically tugging on his coveralls. “Yo, Dom.” The boy’s head shot up, face pale, eyes bright. Shit. The kid was only seventeen and dealing with more crap than anyone
his age should have to. “My office.”
Reid ducked back in, giving him a minute to collect himself. The boy had lost just about everything, but he had his pride, and Reid knew firsthand when you had nothing else, how fucking important that was.
Dominic walked in and shut the door. “Yeah, ah…sorry I’m late, Reid.”
Reid crossed his arms and rested his ass on his desk. “Your mom okay?”
Dom stiffened, then deflated a little and shrugged. “Going through one of her rough patches.”
“No sign of your old man?” Reid watched him carefully. Dom’s old man was a lot like his, one-hundred proof running through his veins, and instead of opening his mouth, he talked with his fists.
“Haven’t seen him in months.”
Thank fuck for that. But he’d be back, they always came crawling back. “You need anything?”
The kid pressed his lips together tight and shook his head, trying his best to keep up a tough front. Reid saw right through it, and it tore him in two. The guys in the shop did all they could for the family, in a way that wouldn’t make Dom see it as charity. Most of them came from similar backgrounds and knew how the kid’s mind ticked.
Reid stood and squeezed his shoulder. “You need anything, day or night, you call me, you can’t get me, you call Law or one of the other guys, yeah?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
“You don’t need to do this alone, Dom.”
“Thanks,” he rasped.
Reid opened the door. “Now go get to work. That panel won’t straighten itself.”
Dom left, and Reid went to his desk and sat heavily in the seat. First chance he got, he’d talk to Law, get him to do some checking around, make sure Dom’s dad was well and truly out of the picture.
An hour later, he’d managed to make a few calls and get through some paperwork, but every few minutes his eyes moved to the four buckets of body filler taking up room in the corner of his office. He probably should, but right then he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about it. After calling in a favor, he’d managed to get West Restoration’s order delivered to R.I.P. by “mistake,” then called the error in to West’s this morning, speaking to the blonde, Piper, on the phone.