Normally Davis had Mondays off, but today they were both working and it looked as if they’d be working through lunch. Which was fine. She wasn’t all that hungry and she needed a distraction.
“We have another car coming in,” Davis said, walking into the shop area from the front.
Charlie slid out from under the truck she was working on. “There’s no room. All the bays are full.”
“I’ll make room,” Davis said with a grin. “Trust me, we want this car in the shop.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, sliding back underneath the Chevy.
“What the hell is your problem today?” Davis chirped, somewhere beyond her line of vision.
She could give him a list that was a mile long, but none of it would be the reason for her foul mood.
“Why the hell are you in such a good mood?” she countered. Seriously. The guy had been whistling and singing all morning—and Davis never sang. If Charlie had to hear him sing about rolling windows down and cruising one more time, she just might explode. It was as if Davis was crapping rainbows or something.
Or something.
Wheeling out from underneath the truck once more, Charlie rolled over onto the cold concrete and got to her feet.
“You got laid,” she said loudly, hands on her hips. She didn’t mean it to sound like an accusation but it so did.
“Excuse me?” Davis shoved his hands into the pockets of his coveralls, pinned her with a look that told her everything. He looked good. Satisfied. Sing-song satisfied.
“You got laid,” she repeated, rubbing her greasy hands along the thighs of her work clothes. “That’s why you’re in such a good mood. I mean really Davis, you’re whistling the theme song from Rocky for Christ sake.”
He shrugged. “Well, if I got laid, isn’t it my business?”
“Nice try,” she replied, walking toward him and not stopping until she was a few inches away. “Who is she?”
But she didn’t give Davis a chance to answer. Her mind raced and she thought back to Saturday night. He’d been in a mood because Ava was on the sled run with Seth, so she was guessing…
“Okay, so you had angry sex—“
“What the hell is angry sex?” Davis asked, face screwed up in mock horror. “Pardon my language but that sounds fucking painful.”
Men.
“Angry sex is when you’re pissed at someone so you take it out on someone else.”
“That’s calculating and cold.”
She shrugged. “Not many guys care. Trust me, they like angry sex.”
“That makes no sense.”
Charlie was in the mood to argue. She crossed her hands over her chest.
“It makes perfect sense.”
Davis leaned against the vehicle he was working on and crossed his legs. “So let me get this straight. You think that I was pissed at someone.”
“I know you were.”
“Huh. And who would that someone be?”
“Oh my God, Davis. Really? You were mad at Ava.”
His eyes narrowed a bit. “So you think that because I was mad at Ava—“
“So you admit it!”
“I admit to nothing, but let’s get back to the angry sex thing. You think I was mad at Ava and the way I dealt with it was to bang some woman from Springs Falls?”
“I knew it.” Charlie danced in a circle—not quite a twerk but damn close. “Was it Cheryl Baines?”
“No.”
“Rosalyn Pope?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Tiffany Sykes.”
“Jesus, no. She’s almost as old as my mother.”
Thinking hard, Charlie crossed the shop and retrieved a water bottle from her workbench. Who the hell had been at the gathering in Springs Falls?
“Got it,” she shouted, striding back toward Davis as if she’d just pitched the winning strike in the World Series. “Lisa Vanderbirken.”
“Ah, that would be a hell no. Her husband is built like a freaking Mack Truck and I play hockey with him on Monday Nights.”
“Oh, right. I forgot they got back together.” She frowned. “Well, who the hell was it then?”
Davis leaned forward, a wicked smile on his face, and shrugged. “That would be none of your business.”
“Bastard,” she said, gruffly, trying not to smile. Lord knows the guy needed someone to take his mind off of Ava.
“Don’t worry, Samuels. I’ll fill you in someday.” He paused, a big ass smirk on his face. “Maybe.”
She tossed her water bottle at him, but he caught it and took a long drink himself.
Just then the last bay door opened and Ken, the tow-truck guy, popped his head inside.
Charlie smiled and walked over. “Hey Ken, what cha got?”
Ken was a tall, lanky guy on the wrong side of sixty with a balding head that was perpetually shiny and had never seen a warm hat. He had a ready smile, sparkling green eyes and an Adams apple that was quite something. Sometimes people had to tell themselves to keep their eyes above the neck—it was that distracting.
At least Charlie did.
“What I got is a real beauty,” he said with a wide grin. He glanced around, eyes questioning. “Looks like there’s no room?”
“Hold on, Ken,” Davis said. “I’m done with this F-150 and can move it outside until the customer comes back for it.”
“Right,” Ken said. I’ll move my rig and give you some room.”
Charlie nodded. “Okay, you guys get it figured out. I’m going to grab some coffee and get back to work.”
By the time she walked out to the front desk area and returned with a hot cup of coffee, the truck that Davis had been working on was gone and in its place was the Shelby.
Just the sight of it spiked her heart rate and Charlie hustled over, interrupting Ken and Davis. “Where the hell did that come from?” She moved so that she could see around Ken, but there was no one else there.
Ken looked a little unsure and Davis smiled at the tow truck driver, offering his hand. “Thanks for bringing it by.”
“You bet,” Ken replied before turning to Charlie. “I told you she was a beaut. She sure is in good hands.”
Charlie nodded and as soon as the bay door slid back into place, she walked over to the car.
“Why is the Shelby here?”
Davis took another sip from the water bottle she’d tossed him earlier. “I told Rick we’d work on it.”
“And when exactly did you do that?”
“Yesterday morning when he called me.”
“Oh,” she said, a little surprised.
“He said that he had to go back to Florida and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. He asked if it would be all right to have the Shelby delivered and I said yes.”
“You should have asked me first.”
“I figured he did.”
“Oh, and why is that?” She knew she sounded childish, but for some reason she couldn’t help herself.
“Well because he said he’d just left your place and since it was not even nine o’clock in the morning, I knew he’d spent the night.” Davis’s eyes softened. “Haven’t you talked to him since he left?”
Shit. Charlie whirled around and headed back to the truck she was working on. “No I haven’t.”
“Ah, now I get it.”
“You got shit,” she retorted over her shoulder.
“You’re in a pissy mood because he hasn’t called you, so why don’t you just buck up and admit it?”
She slid beneath the truck once more, heart still beating rapidly and her emotions all over the place. What the hell was wrong with her?
“Why don’t you admit that you had angry sex?” she shot back, because you know she was so damn mature.
Davis laughed. “Trust me. If I had angry sex, I’d be the first to admit to it. But I didn’t.”
“You’re lying.”
“I didn’t say that I never had sex. I just said that it wasn’t angry.”
> Wait. What?
For the second time in less than twenty minutes, Charlie slid out from underneath the vehicle. Jesus. If they kept this up, nothing would get fixed today.
She nailed Davis with a no-nonsense look. “Well if you didn’t have angry sex with someone, then you had…”
Her eyes widened and when a slow grin curved along Davis’s mouth, she jumped to her feet. “You and Ava?” she asked incredulously.
Davis shrugged. “I’m not one to kiss and tell.”
“But I talked to her yesterday afternoon. She didn’t say anything.”
“That’s because I was still there and we were in her hot tub.”
“Ewww. I don’t want to hear this,” Charlie said, backing away.
“Naked in her hot tub.”
She smiled. “It’s about time, you know. You guys have been dancing around each other for years. I don’t know why you never hooked up before.”
“Sometimes timing sucks.”
She thought of Rick just then, and damn, were those hot tears threatening the corners of her eyes? Why the hell was she getting so goddamn emotional? She was going to chalk it up to PMS and get on with her day.
“Yeah, I get that,” she replied, turning back to her truck.
“He’ll call you, you know.”
Charlie turned her head to the side. “I know.”
But did she really? Was she so sure that he’d call? What did she really know about the guy other than his name, Rick Simon? No…Maverick Simon.
“He also arranged for a delivery to your house.”
Thank God she hadn’t slid beneath the truck again, because this was getting ridiculous.
“A delivery?”
“Yes, something for Connor, I think. A surprise, according to Ken. He’s got it on his rig and I hope you don’t mind, but I ah, I gave him the code to your back door so he could get into your place.”
That emotion pressed harder and she felt her cheeks burn as Charlie struggled to keep her shit together.
A surprise.
“I wonder what it is?” she asked softly.
Davis smiled as he reached for his mask and blowtorch. “Guess you’ll have to wait until you get home to find out.”
“I guess so,” she murmured, and then jerked her head up. “Why did you tell me if it was supposed to be a surprise?”
“Why do you think?” Davis replied. “Because you’ve been in a shit mood all day and we still have five or six hours to go until we can call it quits. I did it for my own mental health.”
“Well, thanks then.”
“No problem.”
“So you and Ava…”
“Forget it, Samuels. I’m not sharing.”
She giggled and for what she hoped was going to be the last time, slid underneath the truck. She waited a few heartbeats and then when her nerves were settled, began to work.
Chapter Nineteen
By Monday afternoon, Teague’s status and whereabouts was still unknown. It was hard—the not knowing—but with a house full of Simons, there was room for some lightness considering the somber occasion. It’s how they were, his family, and Maverick hadn’t realized how much he missed them all until he’d seen their faces.
He loved them. Plain and simple. But the problem with family was that they don’t leave you alone, and he’d been hankering for some alone time for hours. If only he could find five minutes to make a phone call, he’d be one happy guy. By the time he’d managed to grab some time the night before, it was nearly one in the morning, and he didn’t want to call Charlie that late. He knew she’d be in bed and he didn’t want to be responsible for disturbing her sleep.
He smiled to himself. Lord knew the woman had barely gotten any the night before.
Maverick grabbed a cold beer from the cooler and leaned against the boathouse. It was still hot and muggy, more than normal for this time of the year, but the breeze from the ocean kept his skin cooled.
He glanced up to the two-tiered decking that ran the length of his Uncle’s house and spied his mother, her new boy toy Theodore, Tucker’s fiancé Abby, and Aunt Eden. Donovan was just weeks away from giving birth and had gone up to her room for a nap and well, Uncle Noah hadn’t left his office much over the past twelve hours.
Cooper, Jack, and Tucker were sitting at the end of the dock, voices muted as they talked. And just coming in off the water was his cousin Grace. She’d taken the Jet Ski out but hadn’t managed to convince anyone else to go. None of the guys seemed to have it in them.
Maverick took a long gulp from his beer bottle and set it down, walking over to the lift so that he could help Grace maneuver the machine into place.
“Thanks,” she said, jumping off the Jet Ski. She tossed her bright orange and blue life jacket and nodded to him. “Anymore of those left or did the boys drink them all?”
“I think you’re in luck,” he replied, grabbing a bottle and opening it for her. Grace’s wet hair was plastered to her neck, the blond ends now vibrant blue spikes.
“How long have you had that look?” he asked with a wry grin. The last time he’d seen her, half of her head had been shaved, and the other half had been pink—or maybe it was purple. Or both. He got her need to express herself—he’d been doing it for years.
She shrugged. “A week? Maybe?”
With a sigh, she joined him and leaned back against the building, shading her eyes from the sun. “I don’t think Beau and Betty are coming.”
“No, that’s what Jack said.”
“Probably for the best. If those two showed up, it would send the press into a feeding frenzy.”
The couple’s publicist had just announced Betty’s pregnancy—forced to because of rampant rumors—and at the moment, a Betty Jo Barker pregnancy bump was worth big bucks. With a possible family tragedy added to the mix, the press was relentless.
As it was, even though he and Cooper had arrived by boat the night before, they’d apparently been spotted on the water and the press could smell a story. Their numbers outside the compound had doubled overnight.
“How you holding up?” he asked.
Grace shrugged. “About as well as everyone else.” Her voice wavered a bit. “Mom’s hard as a rock, you know? And the boys…it’s Tucker I’m worried about. I don’t know if it’s a twin thing or what, but he seems really rattled.”
Maverick glanced over to his cousin and nodded. Tucker had been quiet the night before, brooding almost, and it wasn’t the norm for him. But then, these weren’t normal circumstance.
Cooper joined them just then, grabbing the last beer from the cooler and pointing up to the deck. “Grace, I think your mother made enough food to feed a small army.”
“She likes to cook when she’s upset. It’s what she does.”
“Yeah,” Cooper said softy. He picked at the label on the bottle in his hands. “So what’s new with you these days? Are you still in school?”
Maverick took a few steps back as his brother and cousin passed the time making small talk about a bunch of stuff that didn’t matter all that much. At least not right now.
With nerves strung so tight his shoulders were sore, Maverick rolled his neck and grabbed up his cell from his pocket. He quickly scrolled through several messages from work colleagues and acquaintances, offering support or just letting him know they were thinking about him and his family.
There was nothing from Charlie.
“Why the hell don’t you just call her,” Cooper said.
“Call who?” Grace piped up, eyes wide and full of questions.
Cooper grinned. “Maverick’s got a new girlfriend.”
“Really? Who is she?”
Maverick fingered the cell for a moment. Girlfriend. Huh. He’d never really thought of what he had going on with Charlie in those terms, but they were more than just friends, and they sure as hell were more than friends with benefits. He’d done that before and this different.
So what exactly was she? Maybe it was time for him to find
out.
“Well Grace. Her name is Charlotte, but everyone calls her Charlie.”
“Oh, Charlie. I like that.” His cousin was practically dancing in place, but then again, what young woman in her early twenties didn’t love hearing about someone else’s love life?
“What does she do? Like what’s her job?” Grace asked. “Is she a musician?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a bit more information,” Cooper added.
Maverick chuckled. “You just want to see a picture.”
“Damn right I do and clothing is optional.”
Grace smacked Cooper in the arm. “You’re disgusting.”
“Trust me Grace,” Cooper responded with a grin. “Most guys are disgusting. It’s how we’re wired.”
Maverick took a moment, enjoying the lightness. “She’s a mechanic.”
“A mechanic?” Grace’s head whipped around so fast that it was comical.
“That would be correct. Mechanic. She owns her own garage and right now, she’s restoring Cooper’s Shelby.”
“Stop right there, brother.” Cooper’s grin was replaced with a dark frown. “That car is worth a small fortune. Trust me, you don’t want to know what I paid for it. It’s a ’67 for Christ sake.”
“I know.”
“Well I appreciate the thought but you don’t hand over that car to just anyone.”
“She’s not just anyone,” Maverick replied, not liking his brother’s tone.
“Down boys,” Grace teased, though the look in her eyes was questioning when she glanced up at Maverick.
“No, I guess she’s not.” His brother continued to watch him a little too closely for his liking, and Maverick took a long drink from his beer bottle.
“So,” Grace’s mouth twisted as she stared at him with those Simon blue eyes. “Where exactly did you meet this woman and why do you have Cooper’s car?” Maverick had to give it to her. The girl didn’t miss a thing.
He glanced at his brother and shrugged. He’d let him handle the details.
“I’ve got a place in Maine,” Cooper said hesitantly.
“Maine? Well that’s random,” Grace replied, though she didn’t press further.
Maverick Page 13
