by Juanita Kees
Under the Hood
www.escapepublishing.com.au
Under the Hood
Juanita Kees
When Scott Devin buys a struggling car dealership in semi-rural Western Australia, the last person he expects to see in charge is a stiletto-wearing, mini-skirted foreperson—exactly the distraction a struggling, male-dominated workshop doesn’t need! But there’s more to TJ Stevens than meets the eye.
TJ Stevens has two major goals in life: to preserve her grandfather’s heritage and to protect her teenage rehabilitation program—and she’ll go to any lengths to do it. Scott Devin’s presence is a threat to everything she’s worked hard to achieve, so keeping him at arm’s length shouldn’t be a problem … or will it?
About the Author
Born in Port Elizabeth, South Africa and now proudly Australian, Juanita is a freelance editor and proof reader. She escapes the real world by reading and writing romantic fiction. The year 2012 was a turning point in her writing career, with her debut novel Fly Away Peta released in August. Her short story, Rough Diamond also made the finals in the Romance Writers of Australia Little Gems competition and was published in their Diamond Anthology.
Juanita is a keen volunteer and member at the Romance Writers of Australia. When she’s not writing, editing or proofreading, Juanita is the cleaning fairy and mother to three boys (hubby included, his toys are just a little more expensive). Her not-so-miniature dachshund, Sam, is her critique partner and keeps her company while writing.
Juanita loves to hear from fans and would be delighted for you to enjoy her writing journey with her.
On the Web: http://www.kees2create.com.au/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/juanitakees
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Juanita-Kees-Author-Page/
Acknowledgements
A huge thank you to my critique partners, whose feedback has been magnificent. They’ve helped me identify the flaws and plug the holes, and have kept me sane when I thought about giving up. A special thank you to Kerrie P and Jennie Jones, your input was gold! To the members of RWA for their ongoing support and friendship, I have learnt so much from the best in the business.
I dreamed a dream and here I am. So many people to thank for guiding me on the road to success, including the team at Harlequin Escape, my friends Leah, Lina, Hazel, Tracy, Michelle & Claire—where would I be without my girls? My boys Gavin, Shane and Daniel—you guys are the greatest. I am so proud of you all. Jean (Mom) and Hylary (Dad) for reading to me and giving me the gift of appreciation for writing and creating stories, I love you both so much. For my family, extended family, wonderful friends and, of course, my readers who keep me writing… I love that ‘Oh, wow!’ moment whenever I hear how much you’ve enjoyed one of my stories.
Australian businessman and politician JJ Simons founded the Young Australia League and established a holiday camp deep in the shaded Roleystone valley in 1929. Simons called his camp Araluen, an Eastern States Aboriginal word meaning ‘singing waters,’ ‘running waters’ or ‘place of lilies’. Together, League members and volunteers built cottages, designed by leading Perth architect WG Bennett, using local timber and stone. They created pathways, roads, steps and terraces and filled the dream garden with native and imported plants to create a garden heaven.
The Grove of the Unforgotten still remains today, built in memory of Young Australia League members killed in World War I.
Now known as Araluen Botanical Park, this has to be the most peaceful garden in Western Australia. Many of the cottages have been restored, except for one that burnt down, leaving only the chimney stack standing.
http://www.araluenbotanicpark.com.au/about/
I chose a similar setting for TJ & Scott’s story, because of its history and original purpose. How wonderful would it be if young people could return to this peaceful place while they search for themselves through the trials of growing up?
Unfortunately, my story is fiction and TJ is no relation to JJ Simons, but his dream and my love for his creation provided the perfect background for this story of an extraordinary woman who has her own dream and a commitment that knows no boundaries. I hope you enjoy the story.
for my Aunty Marita
who loved her Mills & Boon collection, we shared so many wonderful stories. I hope you are proud of what I’ve achieved as you sit at God’s right hand
for my Uncle Alan
I’ll always be your little tiger. You’ll never know how much your presence meant as I struggled through my teenage years
and Aunty Rochelle
for helping Uncle Alan find his ‘happy ever after’
Contents
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Also Available From Escape Publishing…
Chapter One
TJ Stevens pushed through the glass doors into the reception area of M&M Motors, leaving them swinging behind her. “Marty! I need a tow down on Albany Highway. Sheila’s spat the dummy again,” she yelled. “Excuse me!” she said as a man in a suit stepped in front of her. “We’ll be with you in a moment.”
TJ missed the disgruntled look he aimed her way as she set her hands on his forearms and steered him out of her path. She grabbed her uniform jacket off the peg and heaved open the connecting door to the workshop. “Marty!”
“I got it, TJ,” the first-year apprentice yelled back.
“Take Tony with you. You know she won’t let anyone else near her.”
“Got it.” Marty jogged towards her with a tow rope looped over his shoulder. “There’s someone to see you out front. Not happy that you’re late.” He nodded towards the man she’d moved aside, who was now pacing the reception floor.
TJ tossed Marty her keys. “I’ll take care of it. Go and get Sheila before she gets a ticket. Tony! Let’s get this done. We’ve got a big workload today.” She gave them directions to the broken down car and herded them out the door.
With a sigh, she headed for the cloakroom and sat down on the bench to unstrap her stiletto sandals. The day hadn’t even started, and already she had blisters. Not helped at all by the two-kilometre hike, thanks to Sheila breaking down. She tugged on her uniform pants under her mini skirt.
Her mobile phone vibrated against the cold steel bench. It skittered off the rounded edge to fall face down in the greasy mop bucket. Luckily, the water had been drained. She fished it out of the grey sludge and wiped it on a rag. It was going to be one of those days.
“TJ? The bloke in reception says you need to get your butt out there now!” One of the technicians banged on the cloakroom door.
“I’ll be out in a minute!” Work-worn, scarred safety boots replaced the heels, hastily tugged on over thick socks. The laces could wait. TJ strode back into the workshop, laces flapping against the concrete floor as she went.
“Back to work!” she called when she noticed that work had ground to a halt as her team watched her progress across the shop. TJ smiled at the comments, cat calls, grumbles and exaggerated sighs.
“Sheila ready for the scrap heap this time?”
“Blown a gasket has she?”
“Forget something, TJ?”
As lead t
echnician and team leader, she was used to the teasing. The relationship she had with her team was a good one. They worked well together.
The connecting door back into the reception didn’t budge as she shoved against it with her bottom and simultaneously tried to secure her wayward hair in a rubber band.
“Ouch,” she muttered just as it gave way and two firm hands grasped her shoulders. The hands spun her around firmly. She looked up. A long way up. The muscular frame of her impatient visitor blocked the doorway.
“Tiffany-Jane Stevens?” His voice reverberated through her, deep and rumbling. Not unlike thunder—which matched the expression on his face.
She shivered. “Yes?”
“Scott Devin. Tie your damn shoes, take off that ridiculous skirt, and meet me in my office.” With that, he spun around and stalked off.
Shit, the skirt! TJ stared at his departing back with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Scott Devin. Her new boss. He was a week early. It was definitely going to be a bad day.
Scott Devin slammed the door to his predecessor’s office. He’d arrived at 7.30am to find the place locked up, no staff, and customers queuing at the door. If it wasn’t for the set of keys the agent had given him at handover, they’d all still be out on the driveway awaiting the arrival of the foreman … foreperson!
He hated to be kept waiting and he was … well … irritated. Irritated that she hadn’t recognised him which, he had to admit, was a blow to his ego. Voted Most Successful Businessman of the Year, he’d acquired several struggling car dealerships nationwide and turned them into a multi-million dollar enterprise.
He picked up the latest edition of Professional Spotlight then tossed it aside again with a grunt. His face stared back at him from the cover, silent and brooding. Here he was in the foothills of Perth with his latest acquisition, but, instead of feeling the usual drive to turn it around, he felt deflated and unsettled.
Something was missing. Somewhere in the rat race on the east coast, he’d lost his passion for doing what he did. The satisfaction levels had fled. Hopefully, the west coast would provide the answers he sought. He stared out the window at the hills in the distance. If only he knew what it was he was looking for.
The dealership had once been a country workshop. Now it was surrounded by a growing suburb on the main highway into Perth. Favoured by the locals, it maintained its country atmosphere, with all the facilities of a small town. The potential for growth was huge and the challenge was certainly there. Would it be enough?
A firm tap on his door heralded the arrival of Tiffany-Jane Stevens. He shook his head and squared his shoulders. TJ Stevens was not what he’d been expecting. He’d been expecting a man in charge, not a pint-sized, stiletto-wearing cannon ball who looked pretty sexy in a mini skirt. His lips tightened. It wasn’t until he’d pulled her employee file that he’d realised his foreman–foreperson–was a woman—exactly the distraction a struggling workshop didn’t need.
“Come in,” he bellowed.
TJ opened the door and strode up to his desk, hands firmly on her hips. She was ready to do battle, he noted. Scott’s eyes dropped as her intake of breath pulled the material of her T-shirt tight across her breasts. She’d taken off the jacket … and the skirt. His stomach muscles clenched. The woman was trouble! It said so right there on her T-shirt: ‘Here Comes Trouble’ printed right across her generous, firm, shapely … Scott pulled out his chair and sat down.
“I don’t need this today,” he muttered, gritting his teeth.
“I beg your pardon?” TJ looked at him uncertainly.
“Sit down, TJ,” he ordered.
“I’d rather stand,” she replied.
Reluctantly he raised his eyes to her face from her perfectly shaped, rather distracting chest. Scott felt the impact all the way through his body as green eyes clashed with his. He stood up again to regain control.
“Punctuality is important in a team leader. I won’t tolerate otherwise.”
The green eyes narrowed on his. He watched her face as she struggled to force down her anger.
“My car broke down,” she said.
Scott acknowledged the tinge of sarcasm behind her words, but he pushed on. “Your car broke down. Did you think to ring someone and let them know?”
TJ shook her head. “No. I wasn’t far down the road, so it didn’t seem necessary.”
“You were an hour late!”
Her back stiffened and she drew herself to her full height. How is it, he mused, that someone who didn’t quite top five-foot-two could look so intimidating? She sucked in her bottom lip and chewed on it, biting back a response. He watched the movement in fascination and almost forgot to be angry. Almost.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” she answered.
Why did she cross her fingers?
“You also broke a few safety rules.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “You didn’t secure your shoe laces before entering the workspace, presenting a trip hazard. You wore a frilly skirt over your protective wear, presenting a snarl hazard, and you traipsed across a greasy floor in open-toed, stiletto heels!” His voice escalated as he counted off her sins until it reached a shout.
Scott watched her face pale as the implications dawned. She was the team leader, the one to set the example. Breaking safety rules could mean only one thing.
“You’re fired.” He delivered the final blow and sat back down. He tried not to feel like an arsehole as she quietly turned and left the office.
“Egotistical, pompous arse!” TJ muttered. She marched back into the workshop. “Meeting,” she yelled to the technicians. They downed their tools and gathered around her. “That was your new boss. I’ve been fired.” She held up a hand to stem the grumbled responses. “No, he’s right. I broke the rules. When Tony gets back from rescuing Sheila, he’ll take over as team leader until Mr Devin finds a replacement for me. I expect you all to respect his wishes. You’re a great team, and I’ve been very privileged to work with you.” She stopped as she saw their eyes shift to the observation window where customers could watch the work being carried out from the safety of the reception area. Scott Devin stood watching. Probably making sure she left the premises without stealing anything, she thought sourly. Her skin tingled as she felt his eyes bore into her back. She stiffened her spine. TJ snapped her fingers in the air and drew her team’s attention back to her. “Guys! Tony will need your support.”
They nodded their agreement, just as Tony strode into the shop.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“You’re in charge,” she answered and explained what had happened. Tony looked up to where Scott stood behind the glass. He made to push past TJ towards the reception but she held him back.
“Let it go,” she said.
“But TJ, he has no idea—”
“Let it go. I’ll have to leave Sheila here overnight. I’ll arrange for a tow truck in the morning. Back to work now,” she waved them away.
Tony stood his ground. “It’s not fair.”
“It’s the rules. How bad is Sheila?”
Tony shook his head. “Hard to say. She smelled a little burnt. We’ll have to take the cylinder head off for pressure testing. Lucky you know not to push her too far when she starts overheating. Hopefully the damage will be minimal.” He indicated with a thumb over his shoulder to the driveway. “Marty’s just getting her settled.”
She hooked an arm through Tony’s and steered him out the workshop onto the drive. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scott Devin was on the move too.
TJ turned slightly to watch him move. He was as heart-stoppingly gorgeous in person as he was in the magazine, she decided. He was huge, towering at least a foot above her, and was built like a brick wall. The severe business suit did little to hide the strong, muscular body underneath. His hands, as they’d gripped her earlier, were big and strong. Chiselled features tapered into a rounded jaw darkened by stubble. Her scrutiny followed his slightly crooked no
se up to the dark blue, glittering eyes she’d been speared by earlier. Jet black hair cut neat and short … TJ shook her head to clear it as her imagination began conjuring up some rather enticing images. He was still a pompous arse!
They stepped out onto the driveway where Sheila sat, indignantly offering an occasional hiss and spit. Steam still floated through the radiator grille. The 1975 Holden Gemini SL Sedan was a patchwork of faded red and body filler grey. Clear lacquer blistered in the areas that had not been filled. Once restoration was complete, it would be a collector’s item for enthusiasts. For TJ, even worthless, it was one of her most valued possessions.
“This is your car?”
TJ felt rather than heard Scott come up next to her. She looked up at him—and wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. Instead she moved to lift the bonnet. “Marty, hit the release cable.” She pulled her heat resistant gloves out of her pocket and put them on.
“Now she remembers the safety rules,” Scott muttered.
TJ stiffened until she thought her spine would snap, but ignored him. She had nothing more to lose. Only good manners made her bite down on a response. There was no reason to give him the satisfaction. She lifted the bonnet and secured it. Bracing her hands on the front of the car, she leaned in to look for broken fan belts or a damaged fan blade. None. That was good.
“No blown hoses, TJ,” said Tony. He snapped off his torch. “Radiator’s leaking through the core. Head’s probably warped a little.”
“Let’s hope it’s only a little.” TJ stepped back and straightened. She felt Scott’s muscular warmth at her back where he’d been peering over her shoulder.
“Can we all get back to work now?” he asked. His breath whispered past her ear sending tingles down her spine.
She swallowed. “Yes.” It came out a whisper. She cleared her throat and said it again, louder this time. TJ turned to face him. “Yes. I’ll get her picked up in the morning if it’s okay for her to stay overnight?”
