Wrenched_A Small Town Mechanic Romance

by Kara Hart

  “Sounds like it.” I sigh. Whatever desire I had has now shifted into something similar to disgust and annoyance.

  “Why’re you worried about it?” he suddenly asks me.

  The question takes me aback. “I’m not. I’m mainly just curious,” I lie.

  “Mmhm.” He smiles, hammers in a few nails, and takes off his goggles.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask him.

  He laughs and flips his hair back. “It means that I don’t believe you,” he says.

  “That’s fine. You don’t have to believe me. It’s not a requirement or law,” I say.

  “That’s true. It isn’t.”

  I saw another piece of wood and put it into the pile, ready to be sanded soon. After a few minutes of silent work, I stop the machine and look at him again. “What’s your problem?” I ask him.

  “My problem? Absolutely nothing,” he says.

  “Yeah? Well, it seems like you have one, like maybe you don’t enjoy me being here or something,” I say.

  He rolls his eyes, but then turns serious. “Listen, I’m the one who vouched for you. Michael wasn’t going to hire you. We had like fifty people send us their resumés. I’m the one who got you this job, so you should be thanking me, rather than fighting me.”

  “You got me this job? Seriously?” I ask him.

  He shrugs. “Well, yeah. Michael needs a woman around him who’s not so… bitchy,” he says.

  “So you got me to help him out?” I laugh. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

  “Bullshit,” he says. “It’s pretty fucking obvious at this point.”

  “Back off,” I warn him.

  “What’re you two fighting about?” Michael asks, as soon as he hears us.

  “Hanson is being a little turd,” I say. “No big deal. I’m starting to realize that’s all he’s really good for.” I turn my head slowly and look at him, darting my eyes his way.

  “Hanson, cut it out, man,” Michael says.

  “Yes, sir. Won’t happen again, sir,” he mocks.

  “Any good news?” I ask Michael. He sits down next to me and stretches his buff arms, over his head.

  “Well, my wife wants to come see the place tomorrow, but I doubt she’ll have any solutions to the problem,” he says. He gets up and walks over to the mini fridge near the door to the house. He grabs a six pack and hands us each a beer. “The good news is that I think we can relax for the day. I’m a little overworked. Let’s just take it easy.”

  “No can do,” Hanson says. “We have to finish these cabinets by Thursday. That means no breaks.”

  “For a ball buster, he won’t stop working,” I say.

  “Unfortunately, he’s one of the best,” Michael says.

  I take a sip from my Pale Ale and feel the cold carbonation satisfyingly burn the roof of my mouth. “So,” I sigh. “Now what?”

  “We wait,” he says. But he can’t stop staring at me, and I can’t stop staring back at him. And even though, we’re so close, there’s an unimaginable distance between us, begging us to find a reason to come together. The desire pulls at the strings of my existence. It grabs in between my legs and forces a new kind of warmth into my body.

  Michael Vanderbilt is not only built. He’s calm. He’s confident. He’s sexy. And he’s forbidden. It’s up to me to find the key, but for now, I’ll just sit and stare.

  Michael

  I want her so bad it’s fucking killing me at this point. Every single day at the shop is torture. Sitting close to her, close enough to brush against her lips, to smell her perfume, and feel her hair hit my cheek… it’s all just torture.

  She knows it. She knows what I want. But she’s playing the long, slow game. Not only that, but she’s obviously hesitant. I’m a dad. I’ve been married to a scornful woman. Those aren’t qualities that are necessarily number one on the hot list. Sure, it’s nice that I’m raising my daughter, but that’s about it. The novelty wears off pretty damn fast.

  When I scroll through the shitty dating app, I only have one mission: to find her picture and swipe as fast as I can to the right. That’ll break the ice, right? Of course, I stop myself after looking at three women. The whole thing is absurd. I’m a grown man. If I want her that bad, I’ll take her myself.

  The whole thing is going on inside my head, on replay during every moment. When I see Susan next, I can’t stop thinking about how different they are, about how Emily is the kind of woman I’ve been waiting to talk to for years. Who am I kidding? I’ve been waiting for this kind of woman for a decade now.

  “You can take her, right? I mean, you told the judge you were readily available when need be,” Susan says. Her stance is hostile, as I sit calmly on the couch. Her hands violently press against the sides of her hips. Her dress is new, probably bought on the company’s dime at some high-end fashion store. She never wore that kind of stuff when we were together. She always said, “I don’t see the point.”

  “Of course, I’ll take her,” I say. “But she’ll have to hang out in the shop. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty swamped with work right now.”

  “That’s why you’re hiring someone new right?” she quips back.

  “Right,” I say. She doesn’t know about Emily yet. I’ve been waiting for the precise moment to tell her we’ve hired a new person on the team. Funny thing is, I know I’m digging my own grave by keeping it from her.

  “How’s that going, by the way?” she asks. She loosens up a little, takes a short breath, and begrudgingly sits down next to me.

  “It’s going alright. We had over fifty applicants.” I shrug.

  “So, there should be some really qualified people. See, I don’t know why you stress so much all of the time. You’ll figure it out and get things done, just like you always have.”

  Stress. What does she know about stress? “It’s the busy season, Susan. But you’re right,” I say. “We have some people we’re heavily considering.”

  “Well, when the time comes, you come to me with the decision. I want to approve this with you. I don’t want to see our business fall by the wayside,” she says.

  “Of course not.” I sigh. Our business. At this point in the game, agreeing with her is all I can really do. If I say no, it’ll be a battle until the end. She’s an Aries, after all, and I’m a Scorpio. Though I don’t really buy into that crap, I’ve found that it’s a deadly combo, nonetheless.

  “I’ll grab Lisa now, if you want,” I say. “Where is she?”

  “Sleeping,” she says. “You can wake her up if you want to.”

  I check my watch and smirk. “Sleeping? Still? It’s eleven in the morning. She should be up watching tv or something by now,” I say.

  “I’d rather her sleep than pollute her mind with nonsense,” she says.

  I ignore her comments. Maybe cartoons polluted all our minds. I have no idea. All I know is that I’m grateful to be getting out of her million-dollar home right now. I quietly walk into Lisa’s room and she’s awake already, rolling around in her small bed.

  “Look at you! You’re awake and everything!” I smile big and my eyes start to water. Every time I see her is like a breath of fresh air. There’s a lot of pain from this marriage, but Lisa holds the key to avoiding it. She’s my sunshine, forever.

  “Thanks dad,” she says with half a smile on her face. The other half of her face shows a slight annoyance, the hallmark of being a teen.

  I pick her up and kiss the top of her soft hair. “You ready for an adventure?” I ask her, struggling to keep her afloat.

  “Dad, stop. I’m not three years old,” she says.

  I ignore her protests, but set her down nonetheless. She’s right. She’s not a child anymore. We both walk to the stairs, hoping to avoid Susan, but she’s already downstairs waiting for me. “Don’t forget your phone,” she says, holding it out.

  “Thanks,” I mutter.

  “Tinder? Really? You’re going down a dark path, Michael,” she roll
s her eyes.

  “A bit nosy, no?” I grab the phone.

  “Just trying to help you out, as always,” she snidely remarks.

  “Great, thank you so much,” I say. I walk out and head into the car, with Lisa laughing the whole way. She has no idea.

  “Well, kid,” I laugh with her. “It’s time to hang out with Uncle Hanson.”

  “Whatever,” she says, staring back at the house, as we drive away.

  Whatever. Thank God.

  “Oh my God, is this Lisa?” Emily’s eyes widen. She exudes a deep glow as she runs over to see my daughter.

  “Say hey, Lisa,” I say. How wet is Emily right now? Is it twisted to even think that?

  “Hey,” she waves, still annoyed.

  “Hey!” Emily squeals. Her smile is the cutest damn thing in the world. Her skin is creamy and smooth. Her lips shine against the incoming sunlight, red and plump. I need this woman. I need her now, in my office, but I don’t know how to broach the subject.

  “Lisa, this is Emily Carter.” I smile. “She’s a new employee”

  Lisa shrugs. But after a second, she glances back and nods. “Cool. Hey,” she says.

  “Jesus, Michael. You can’t bring her around here,” Hanson says. “She’s too damn precious.”

  “Hanson, stop playing around so much,” Lisa quips back.

  “She’s my number one,” I laugh.

  Emily smiles, but knows exactly how much distance to keep. I swear, she takes to her better than Susan. Susan’s main thing is to just ignore her most of the time and hope for the best.

  “I love your lip gloss,” Emily whispers. “You’ll have to tell me where you got it.” She’s motherly. I can’t help but notice it. I shouldn’t be thinking these things. I don’t need a mother for Lisa. Susan has that taken care of… sort of. But when you have a child, it’s nearly impossible not to notice those things. It’s especially hard when your daughter becomes a teenager. At this point, I can barely even get a word in edgewise. Now, my observations are completely centered around this kid.

  “I need to get a sitter,” I tell Hanson. “I have her for the next two days.”

  “I don’t need a sitter,” Lisa says. “I’m practically an adult.”

  “Yeah. She’s fine in here,” he says, while hammering in some nails.

  Dust flies up around him and he coughs lightly. He puts on his facemask and looks up at me. “No way. My daughter isn’t growing up with sawdust in her lungs,” I tell him.

  “She can hang out inside,” Emily says.

  She’s right, of course. She’s not five anymore. Sometimes I forget. “Sorry, I guess I just forget how old you are sometimes,” I tell Lisa. “Did you ever have siblings, Emily?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m an only child,” she says. “But I’ve always liked kids. Maybe it’s just a woman thing or something.”

  Hanson laughs and shakes his head. “You should see Susan. She barely touches her,” he says.

  “Come on, Hanson. No crap talking in front of the kid.” I sigh. He’s not wrong, but I can’t let him talk shit about my ex-wife all the time. It just doesn’t look good.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Emily says, out of the blue.

  “What?” I laugh.

  “You said you needed a sitter. I can take care of her,” she says. “I mean, not during work hours, but after. It wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t really have anything to do at night.”

  “What the heck,” Lisa says. “I don’t need a sitter.”

  I raise my brows, ignore my daughter’s complaints, and place my hands in my pockets. Emily really is proving to be the perfect woman. “Seriously? I mean, I’d love that.”

  “Yeah, just pay me hourly and we’ll be fine,” she says. I stutter a little, but she holds her hand up. “I’m only joking. I’d do it for free.”

  “If you’re watching my kid, I’m going to pay you,” I tell her.

  Hanson slaps his hand on a piece of wood. “I’ll take care of the damn kid if you’re paying!” he exclaims.

  “You think I trust you around her? Give me a break,” I say.

  “Fair enough,” he says.

  “Let’s talk after work,” I say. “We could get a drink somewhere. Hanson can watch her for an hour.”

  “Oh, so now you trust me, when it’s convenient for you.” He throws up his arms.

  “Sounds good,” Emily says, with a slight blush.

  I want her. I need her. And I’m getting her tonight.

  Emily

  “It feels good to just relax a little,” I say. He hands me a beer and clinks my bottle.

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” I say. “Seeing my ex-wife for one second of the day always kills me a little.” Whenever he mentions the ex-wife, I feel a tinge of jealousy. I know he doesn’t like her and they obviously have had a rough past, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s so connected to her in a multitude of ways. It just irks me to no end.

  “Yeah, well, you’re here now. Hanson took Lisa to the park. You can unwind,” I say. I look at his muscles, pressing against his shirt and breathe heavily.

  “You’re right,” he says, looking straight into my eyes. He doesn’t say another word, but I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking worse things than I am and it paralyzes me.

  I’m wet. Sitting here, in the place that I work, I’m wet, and he can sense it. My face instantly turns red. I stand up and walk over to a book that’s sitting on a shelf. “You like to read?” I ask him, trying to change the subject.

  He stands up and moves toward me. My back is to him, as I pretend to read through the pages. It’s so quiet in here, now that all the tools are turned off and Hanson has gone home. The only sound that can be heard is his footsteps and my breathing.

  He grabs the book and throws it on the ground, far away from us. “Michael…” I turn and he’s right in front of me. “I—” He puts his finger on my lips to keep me from talking. He shakes his head slowly and places his hands around my waist.

  My heart is beating so quickly that I actually feel faint. I’ve been waiting for this ever since I saw him in the driveway, soaked in rain, but now that he’s touching me like this, I’m scared shitless. “We don’t need to talk anymore,” he says.

  “Yeah…” I mutter. My eyes dart up towards his, but I get scared again. I quickly lower them to the floor, only to bring them back up. He doesn’t take his gaze off me at all.

  I feel the gravitational pull coming. His head moves toward mine and I close my eyes, blocking out the rest of the world. When I feel his lips against mine, it’s everything and more. My legs grow weak. I fall against the table, spreading them open for him. He grabs the top button of my jeans and forces it through the loop.

  “What’s happening?” I whisper.

  “You know what’s happening,” he says. “You know that I’ve wanted you since I heard your timid voice on the phone. When you walked up that driveway, I knew I’d have to cross this line. I’m not the kind of guy who holds back.”

  “But your ex,” I whisper. “Won’t she—”

  “I said, I’m not holding back,” he says.

  “Then don’t,” I say.

  He kisses me again. This time, my lips open up for him and I feel his tongue slide against mine. He tastes good, like alcohol and sex. I smell his cologne and I am fucking dripping for him. He unzips my jeans and slowly slides them down my ankles. I reach out and touch him. He’s harder than I expected and completely ready for me.

  His palm folds over me and squeezes lightly. He moves it up and down, and forcibly takes off his own jeans. “You want me, don’t you?” he asks.

  I nod my head, slow and deliberate. My eyes say it now. I want him so fucking bad. “Yes, Daddy.” I smile.

  He grabs my cheeks and presses down gently. He smiles, but it’s more ominous than anything, and shakes his head. “I want you so fucking bad. Right here. On this table,” he says.

  He tears both our shirts off and wraps his right hand aroun
d my waist. His cock lays firmly against my pussy. This is it, I think to myself. This is the moment of pleasure I’ve been waiting for. Finally.

  “Fuck me,” I whisper.

  But outside, there are footsteps and they’re coming closer. “Shit,” he sighs, grabbing his things. “Come on. Hurry.”

  “What the fuck, Michael?” I ask. But he quickly scoops everything up and runs inside, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him. “Don’t tell me that’s your ex-wife or something,” I say.

  “It’s my ex-wife or something,” he says, pulling me into a one of the guest rooms. “Hurry and put on your clothes.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening.” I sigh and put on my panties. I throw my shirt back on and shake my head. I’m pissed off, embarrassed, and slightly scared.

  “Yeah, well, I’m supposed to be with the kid and this doesn’t look too good,” he says.

  “Whatever. I’m just your employee. It’s fine,” I say.

  “Well…” He sighs. “She doesn’t exactly know I hired you on.”

  “What?” My eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? You didn’t tell your wife?”

  “She’s not my wife,” he corrects me.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. The woman who bore your child. Is that better?” I roll my eyes and put on my shoes.

  “Michael?” Susan’s voice echoes through the halls downstairs.

  “Come on,” he says. He opens the door slowly and walks to his office. “I’m up here, in the office!” he yells.

  I cannot believe it. Of all the things, I can’t believe he’s hiding this from his ex-wife. The real question is why? Why is he so afraid of what she’ll do or say? Why can’t he just man up? So, I ask him, straight up. “Why?”

  “She owns half of the business. She would have never agreed to hire you,” he says. “And I needed to hire you.”

  My face turns warm and I have to admit, it feels good when he tells me that. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that this is all fucked up now.