Revved (Axle Alley Vipers)

by Sherilee Gray

  He wasn’t a patient man, never had been, and he’d already waited over a week for Rusty to change her mind and show up. She hadn’t, which kind of surprised him, but also kind of didn’t. The woman was stubborn, he’d worked out that much from their brief encounter, but he also hadn’t missed the interest behind those vibrant green eyes. Now all he could do was wait and see who showed to collect their misplaced order. If it was Rusty, he knew he had a shot, if not—well, he’d have to come up with something else.

  She was definitely a challenge, but one he more than looked forward to conquering.

  If he was honest, he’d thought of nothing else. He still couldn’t get the image out of his head, when she’d pulled off that welding mask, letting all that thick, red hair fall down her back. The sway of those hips, and shit, that mouth…and not just the way it looked. She was attitude and fire, and he wanted a taste. So yeah, he was done waiting.

  He also wanted West Restoration—his name above the doors, and the talent and unique difference the West girls brought along with it. As far as he could see, Rusty was the best way in. The hardest nut to crack. Some might think it was an asshole move, using her to get what he wanted, but he hadn’t got where he was today by being a nice guy.

  And he’d sure as hell make certain she enjoyed every damn minute of it.

  He’d have to break his one-night rule with her, but he got the feeling that one night with Rusty West in his bed, underneath him, long legs wrapped around his waist, wouldn’t be enough anyway. Mixing business with pleasure was a risk. This could all blow up in his face, but he wanted her and West Restoration. Right now, he wasn’t willing to give up either. In fact, he was sure the only way to acquire one was through the other.

  He just had to make sure no messy emotions got in the way. But then it wasn’t like she’d expect a ring on her finger just because he fucked her a few times. Because that’s all it would ever be. He didn’t do commitment, and he didn’t do long term. The women he spent time with knew this, felt the same way. Anything more was too big of a risk, one he’d have to be a stupid son of a bitch to take, and despite how hard his old man had tried to beat it into him, repeatedly, he was not stupid.

  After the nightmare he’d grown up in, he didn’t want it. That kind of sick, that poison, it coated every inch of you, dug deep. He’d rather be six feet under than unleash that kind of hell on anyone. Wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.

  He glanced out the window to the front parking lot again and mentally shook off the direction his thoughts had gone. That’s when he saw a black Ford pickup, green flames licking up and across the rounded hood, roll in and park out front.

  She’d come.

  The door opened and one long leg appeared a second before Rusty stepped out in her beaten work boots.

  In that moment he realized just how hungry for another glimpse of her he’d been. Her red hair was tied up, and she wore a dark green tank and a pair of black cutoff shorts, frayed and worn and molded to her hips like a second skin.

  Shoving her hands in her pockets, she strode through the door, gaze constantly moving, taking everything in, those intelligent, wary eyes missing nothing.

  He didn’t rush out to meet her, instead he watched from the internal window facing the workshop as she stepped inside. He also watched as, one by one, his boys tagged her, until nearly every pair of eyes in the place had lifted and locked on her.

  Rusty’s shoulders straightened, and she sucked on her bottom lip. She didn’t appreciate the attention, not one bit. Granted they were a rough bunch—guys that’d had it tough, and it showed—but he didn’t think that was what had her freezing up.

  The only guy not focused on her was Dominic. The kid had his head down, trying to bang out the dents in a door panel, and Rusty headed straight to him.

  The least threatening option.

  The kid’s head came up when she touched his shoulder, eyes going wide, face turning a volcanic shade of red when he got a look at her. He couldn’t blame him. The smile she offered his apprentice was stunning. She said something, and Dom smiled shyly, motioning to the panel he was working on. Reid found himself grinning when she took the hammer from the boy and started showing him what he’d been doing wrong, instructing him the whole time. Poor Dom looked as if he’d swallowed his tongue, while the other guys stood like statues, as mesmerized by her as he’d been the first time he’d seen her in a pair of coveralls and a welder in her hand.

  A foreign emotion suddenly flared to life, bright and near violent. Jealousy. He’d never felt jealous over a woman in his life. He tamped it down, got a handle on it before he stupidly stormed out there and showed them exactly why it wasn’t a good idea to look at what he considered his. That wouldn’t do him any favors, not with Rusty and not with the guys who trusted him. It was also a flashing red light, a warning that he shouldn’t go anywhere near the tempting redhead. That even thinking about it was a fucking stupid idea, for many reasons.

  She straightened, handed his hot-faced apprentice back his hammer, and said something that had the boy smiling and stammering a response before motioning to Reid’s office. Rusty smiled at the kid, so bright even he felt the power of it. Dom looked close to falling on his ass as she sauntered off, leaving him openmouthed and no doubt as hard as the steel he’d been pounding.

  As she neared, her gaze lifted and caught his, and he was sure he saw that fire flash behind her eyes, saw her draw in a deep breath, like she was preparing for battle.

  Bring it, Foxy.

  He opened the door and waited for her to walk through. “You finished instructing my apprentice?”

  She shrugged. “Someone had to show him what he was doing wrong.”

  Stopping just inside, she tipped her head back, heart-shaped face staring up at him. He could see now, she was pissed, fuming, despite all the smiles. Proving his first impression correct: she was smart, she was quick, and she knew exactly what he’d done to get her here.

  Which meant his only option was to change tack before he blew it completely.

  “Filler’s over there.” He jerked his head to where the buckets were stacked, then walked to his desk, planted his ass, and looked down at the invoices he’d been going over before she arrived, essentially ignoring her. Which wasn’t easy. Not at all. “You need a hand carrying it to your truck? I can get one of the boys to help,” he said without looking up.

  She was silent for several seconds, hopefully reassessing the situation. “How the hell did it get here in the first place, Parker?”

  He could hear the accusation in her voice, and since she’d chosen to call him by his last name instead of Chuckles, he knew she wasn’t in the mood to mess around.

  She didn’t trust him, and after the reaction she’d gotten from his boys when she arrived, he could guess why. Rusty didn’t trust men full-stop. It should give him pause. But he was an asshole, and bottom line, he wanted her. It would make winning her over more difficult, but not impossible.

  “How the fuck would I know? They’re in the way. I want them gone. You want help carting them or not?” He glanced up in time to see her eyes widen. He’d shocked her. Good.

  She covered it quickly, then shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

  Why didn’t that surprise him? Stubborn as hell.

  She picked up one of the buckets with a soft grunt and lugged it out the door. It was hard, but he stayed at his desk, even though letting her carry them on her own did not sit well with him. But he kept his ass glued to his seat.

  She came and went three more times, and each time she walked through the workshop her gaze drifted to the cars they were working on. Yeah, her curiosity was piqued. Would she do anything about it?

  He watched as she loaded the last one, the bright oranges, pinks, and greens of the flowers and leaves inked on her arms glistening from the fine coat of sweat covering her smooth skin. Closing the tailgate on her truck, she blew out a breath, then brushing back the strands of hair that had broken free a
round her face, rounded the pickup and opened the driver’s door.

  She was going to get in and drive away. He’d played it wrong.

  But then she just stood there, frozen, head down, staring at her boots.

  Come on, Foxy. You know you want to.

  Her hands curled into fists at her sides, and she shook her head, muttering something to herself before she slammed the door shut again, shoved her keys in her pocket, and headed back.

  He kept his head down as she stomped into his office, loudly, and moved to stand beside him. “So…”

  “You finished?”

  She shifted from foot to foot. “Yeah.” Her voice had lost the pissed edge, and she sounded a little unsure.

  He glanced up, leaned back in his chair. “Sorry I couldn’t get one of the guys to deliver it earlier, but we’ve been busy.” He offered up a half-assed smile and glanced at the clock. “Right, well…I better get back to work.”

  She was about to turn and leave, then stopped again. She looked uncomfortable, nervous, which surprised him. She’d seemed fearless. “Is that offer still open or what?” she blurted.

  Crossing his arms, he did his best not to let a triumphant grin break free. “You want me to show you around the shop?”

  “Yeah, sure. If you’re cool with that?” She bit her lower lip, emphasizing the fuller top one, and an innocence that contradicted wildly with the image she showed to the rest of the world slid forward. It struck him with force, made his gut twist and his cock get hard.

  He cleared his throat. “I can do that. But like I said, we’re busy. Come back after we close up, and I’ll be happy to.” He gave her another barely there smile and let a little sarcasm slip into his voice. “You are the competition, right? Wouldn’t be good business to show you all our secrets.”

  The spark flickered back to life, the fire now front and center. “Worried?”

  “Not in the slightest. You think if I was, I’d offer what I am? Just trying to prove a point, sweetheart. You threw it down, and I don’t ignore a challenge, or a chance to prove someone wrong. That’s as deep as it goes.”

  She shifted on those beaten-to-hell boots again, that on the legs she had, looked just as hot as any pair of six-inch heels could. “What time?”

  “Seven.”

  “That should work.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  She didn’t say any more, didn’t hang around, in fact she all but bolted from his office. She was skittish and wary as hell, and she didn’t trust him one bit. He guessed at this point, the chance of her actually showing tonight was fifty-fifty.

  Either away, he wasn’t finished with Rusty West.

  Chapter Four

  She’d lost her ever-lovin’ mind. That was the only way to explain it. She should turn around and go home, forget all about this.

  Still her foot stayed planted on the gas, her truck moving her across the city for the second time that day. God, she needed to chill out. She was overthinking things, wasn’t she? This was strictly business, nothing more.

  If that’s true, why didn’t you tell Alex or Piper where you were going?

  Shit. She couldn’t deny the man intrigued her. Then there was his behavior today—he wasn’t the same guy who’d walked into West’s just over a week ago, so much so, she’d let her guard down, decided to take his offer, or challenge, at face value.

  The interest she’d seen the previous week hadn’t been there today, and surprisingly, she’d been disappointed. Which was messed up. But what was even more messed up? The care she’d taken dressing, the time she’d spent on her hair, her makeup. She’d told herself she hadn’t done it for him, but as she pulled into the parking lot of R.I.P., and the butterflies in her belly went freakin’ haywire, she knew she was full of shit.

  What the hell was she doing here? She didn’t want a man. She sure as hell shouldn’t want this man. They had nothing in common—okay, yeah, there were the cars, but that’s where it started and ended. How could he ever understand where she came from, the struggles she, Alex, and Piper had gone through to get where they were now. With all he had, his money, the guy wouldn’t have a clue.

  No, she’d known since she was eighteen years old that relationships weren’t for her. That hadn’t changed in all these years, would never change. Love was never equal. Someone always got hurt. Always. She’d learned that for the first time when she was just a kid, when her mother chose some asshole over her husband and kids.

  She’d learned it again when she got older, in a seedy hotel after senior prom. She’d stupidly given it up to the supposed love of her life, and he’d proceeded to humiliate and ridicule her. That night had more than cemented her opinion.

  Love couldn’t be trusted.

  But for some reason, she hadn’t liked the loss of interest in Reid Parker’s eyes, the indifference. And even more surprising, she wanted it back. What she didn’t know, was what she planned to do with it if she got it back. If she wanted to do anything at all. She hadn’t been this attracted to a man in as long as she could remember. She’d felt lust before, but not this, this restless needy feeling he stirred inside her. This was new and, as she discovered tonight, impossible to ignore.

  That feeling was what got her in the shower, washing off the grease and sweat of the day. It was also what had her leaving her hair down, sliding on her favorite army green short shorts and the peach, drapey off-one-shoulder tee she’d bought on sale the week before, the one that clung to her tits and skimmed over her belly just right. It was also that feeling that, despite the fact she was entering a garage, had her shoving her feet in the black wedge flip-flops she loved, the ones that did great things to her claves, and hustling her ass across the city without telling her two best friends what she was doing.

  She was damned lucky Piper had been out when she left, or she would’ve gotten the narrow eyes and fifty questions before being allowed to leave the house.

  All of a sudden she felt stupid, ridiculous. A man like Reid no doubt had women falling at his feet daily. He wasn’t an idiot. One look at her and he’d know exactly why she was dressed this way. To impress.

  Her face heated.

  Get the hell out of here.

  She gripped the gearstick, about to throw her pickup into reverse and burn rubber before Reid saw her sitting there like a moron, when the door wrenched open and the man himself filled her vision.

  Yum.

  “You going somewhere?” His voice was nothing but a rumble, and God, did she feel it. Like the man had reached out and swiped his thumb across her now embarrassingly hard nipples.

  “Um…”

  His hair was in that sexy knot, low on his head, and it looked damp. He’d obviously just hit the showers as well. And, oh hell no, that was not an image she needed right then.

  Her gaze dropped of its own volition to the soft, faded jeans he wore. They weren’t tight, but they certainly didn’t hide a damn thing. His tee was black, and the thing molded to his defined chest and biceps in a way that had her mouth watering. She took all this in without conscious thought, her eyes eating him up as if they had a mind of their own.

  Swallowing hard, she finally lifted her gaze to that sensual mouth, the strong but crooked nose, and square jaw covered in dark whiskers. And yeah, she’d imagined how that short beard would feel on her bare skin more than once. She’d thought about a lot of things where Reid Parker was concerned, usually while she used her vibrator.

  That thought had another rush of heat hitting her face. Her gaze finally caught his, and she noticed the way the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly.

  The guy was laughing at her.

  Oh, he was trying to keep it under wraps, but those eyes, they hid nothing.

  “You all right, Rusty?” His voice was deeper now, and it moved right through her, lifting goose bumps on her arms, her bare legs.

  Never, not once in her life had a man affected her this way. She didn’t know what to do with it, how to act without makin
g a fool of herself. She had to get the hell out of there, now. “I…ah. I have to go.”

  He moved in, bracing one of his hands on the top of her open door, the other on the roof of her truck. “You just got here.”

  “Sorry, I uh…”

  “It won’t take long. Plus I need a chance to defend my honor.” His hand left the roof and slid around her wrist, gently tugging her from her pickup. The goose bumps got a whole lot worse, and she shivered at the zing of electricity his touch shot through her body.

  “Right, fine.” He let go of her wrist, but then placed his hand on her lower back, steering her toward the single door to the side of the big building. The main workshop doors were closed for the night, and she knew once they stepped inside they’d be all on their own.

  Rusty didn’t know whether he sensed she was a ball of nerves and was taking pity on her, or hadn’t noticed at all and just wanted to get this over and done with as fast as possible so he could send her on her way. Because he didn’t mess around. He showed her the workshop, the different stations for the different jobs they did. He also showed her several folders full of pictures of cars they’d restored for clients, others he’d found himself and rebuilt to sell.

  There were several vehicles in the shop that they were working on, and she took her time checking them out, almost forgetting the man standing behind her. Almost. Her nerves had settled at least. The more he talked about what they did, the more she saw the passion he had for this business. He loved his job as much as she did. The staff he employed wasn’t just there to collect a paycheck every week but because this is what they wanted to do, and it showed in the beautiful cars they produced.

  Rusty inspected the Buick in front of her, ran her hand over the smooth hood, and stood back, crossing her arms. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit it… You don’t completely suck.”

  His low chuckle slid between her shoulder blades and made her knees a little weak. “That hurt?”