Servicing Rafferty

by Janie Mason

  Heidi tore down an empty box and headed back to the stacks for another.

  “Not that I can’t handle things here,” she continued aloud, feeling more self-righteous with each step. “I’ve run this place by myself before.” She glanced up at the aging Coca-Cola clock on the wall.

  “Like when he moved his mother to Florida.” Heidi balanced the box on her knee in order to turn the knob on the storeroom door. Spotting a five-gallon bucket nearby, she tried to push it over with her foot to prop open the door. Balancing on one foot, holding a case of brake fluid and trying to maneuver the bucket called for more coordination than she could muster. Heidi lost her balance and dropped the box, splitting it open and sending cans in all directions.

  “Damn.” She dropped to her knees to begin gathering them up. “I ought to just lock up and go home for the day. Why should I do all the work around here?” She knew how childish she sounded and didn’t care. She began arranging a neat pile of cans on the shelf.

  Rafe worked his tail off, normally. But maybe things would never be normal again. At least, not between them.

  With all but two cans retrieved, Heidi spotted one that had come to rest against the wall between shelving units. Reaching between them, she shouldered one of the metal units, knocking a forgotten oil spout off the top shelf.

  “Ugh!” Heidi felt the metal tip slice her temple before the spout clattered to the ground. She managed to back away from the shelf on her knees before rocking back into a sitting position. Swiping at her head, she felt her fingers slip through blood. Adrenaline kicked in and Heidi got to her feet, rushing toward the restroom.

  —

  Rafe hustled out of his truck, hoping Heidi’s burger and fries weren’t stone-cold. Even though he’d ordered the food after he and Barbara had finished eating, she’d primped so long in the restroom that it was probably petrified.

  Passing through the open garage doors, Rafe noticed the pile of supplies. Obviously Heidi had started putting them away. Damn, he’d meant to tell her he’d do it after he got back. Not that it would have made any difference. Her usual stubbornness seemed to be compounded tenfold this morning, and it didn’t take a college degree to figure out why.

  He headed in the direction of the storage room and then spotted a bright red trail of blood on the cement floor. It ran from the storeroom, across the back of the garage, to the restroom door.

  “Heidi!” He dropped the take-out bag and reached the restroom in less than one of his now-accelerated heartbeats. “What happened? Are you okay?” he said, not even pausing to knock before flinging open the door.

  Rafe was relieved to see her standing by the basin, but his protective instincts were still on full alert. The front of her coverall was splattered with blood, and she was applying pressure to the side of her head.

  “Let me see,” he said, assessing and taking charge. He was at her side in an instant.

  Wincing, Heidi tilted the blood-soaked wad of paper towels away from her temple to reveal a nasty gash at the hairline. Rafe knew it wasn’t a life-threatening wound, but the sight of such an injury on his Heidi was alarming. Her complexion was one shade shy of ghostly, or at least it seemed that way against the streaks of crimson staining her face and neck. She needed stitches, no doubt about it.

  Without another word, Rafe scooped her up into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, after her gasp of surprise.

  “I’m taking you to the emergency room.” He’d shouldered open the door of the restroom and was heading out one of the open garage doors.

  “Rafe, put me down. I can walk.”

  “Not as fast as I can,” he said, already opening the passenger door of the truck and setting Heidi inside. “Now keep applying pressure.”

  He ran back to the open doors and yanked them both closed, not bothering to take the extra time to secure the locks. Hell, he didn’t care if someone stole every tool he had. Taking care of Heidi was more important.

  —

  “Thanks for everything, Rafe. You can go home now,” Heidi said from the sofa. She felt stupid enough. Having him treat her like she was an invalid was getting irritating. Still, she didn’t have the heart to tell him so. He had shown up just in time. Heidi didn’t think she could have driven herself to the hospital while simultaneously applying enough pressure to the right side of her head. And calling 911—well, in her book that option was reserved for loss of limb or stroke victims.

  “I thought I’d thrown that old spout away,” he groused again. “This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just pitched the thing.”

  Rafe stood at the living room window looking out, but she didn’t think he was focused on anything in particular.

  “Rafe, I’m fine. This isn’t your fault. Accidents happen. Now, you need to get back to the garage. You didn’t even lock it up.”

  “I don’t give a damn about a few tools,” he said, sounding even angrier.

  There was a lot more at stake than a few tools. He made it sound like all they used at the garage was a couple screwdrivers. And they might not keep a lot of cash in the office, but there was some. Not to mention the keys to the tow truck parked outside.

  “Rafe, I appreciate you taking me to the ER, but I’m fine. You get going, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He turned to face her. “You’re not coming to work in the morning,” he stated with a dictatorial tone that made her jaw clench.

  “Of course I am.”

  “The hell you are. You’re going to follow doctor’s orders and take it easy for a day or two.” He grabbed the television remote and dropped it in her lap.

  “There’s no need for me to stay home. I feel fine.” Okay, so the over-the-counter pain medication they’d given her hadn’t alleviated the throbbing in her head, but sitting around here all day tomorrow thinking about it wasn’t going to help.

  “Bull. Your head’s pounding, and we both know it.”

  “Rafe, you’re not my father,” she said in a voice just as stubborn as his.

  “No, I’m your boss, and if you show up at the garage anytime tomorrow, you’re fired.” His smile reflected his pleasure at one-upping her. He headed toward the door. “I’ll tow your car out tomorrow night.”

  She’d forgotten about her CRX. It was still at the garage.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Rafe said. “Meanwhile, do me a favor. Be a couch potato, just for one day.”

  “I don’t have much choice with no car,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

  As he turned the knob, there was a momentary ripple in Rafe’s high-handedness. “I could hang around for awhile if you want. Do you need anything?”

  Oh, brother, here we go again. The last thing Heidi wanted was to have Rafe hanging around her place. The memories of what had happened between them only a few days ago were hard enough to forget without the man here. If there was any chance of something happening between them again, Heidi would gladly succumb to more blows to the head, but Rafe had made it clear that the first time had been a mistake. Her best shot hadn’t been good enough, and if there was one thing Heidi wouldn’t do, it was beg.

  As much as she’d complained about him carrying her to the truck and later into the hospital, Heidi had to admit it had felt wonderful to be in his arms again. Lust had almost caused her to make a fool out of herself and beg Rafe for his affection, but she’d managed to suppress the impulse. Heidi had decided long ago never to beg anyone for anything. Her mother’s abandonment—despite the pleading little girl wrapped around her legs—had taught her that lesson.

  Meeting Rafe’s gaze, Heidi saw guilt and pity. There were a lot of looks she’d like to be on the receiving end of from Rafe, but this was not one of them.

  “I need my car,” she said, “not a nursemaid.”

  “Tomorrow,” he replied, turning his head and leaving before Heidi had a chance to read his expression.

  Lost in thought, Heidi could hear the crunching gravel as he pulled a
way but didn’t register when it eventually faded to complete silence.

  “What in the world am I going to do?” she asked Attila, who had climbed onto her lap and was playing with the drawstring of her cut-off sweatpants. “I don’t know how to act around him anymore, and this plan of Gigi’s is a bust. Two lengthy lunches with Barbara, and Rafe’s indestructible big-brother attitude pretty much prove that.” She pulled the end of the string away from the kitten and set him on the floor. “My heart keeps telling me that we belong together, but if that isn’t going to happen, I don’t think I can stay there.”

  Dreading the notion of working somewhere else, but feeling it might be the only way for her to go forward with her life, Heidi got up and headed to the kitchen for the phonebook.

  —

  Rafe detached Heidi’s car from the tow truck and then grabbed his sledgehammer from the cab. He walked to her front steps and began swinging. By the second swing and its corresponding crunch, Heidi was standing inside the storm door looking down at him, bug-eyed. His gaze traveled the length of her, drinking in her form in her red tank top and cut-off jeans.

  Down, boy. This is not how a big brother thinks about his little sister. And Rafe was determined to act that way toward Heidi from now on. Things were going back to the way they were six months ago, even if it killed him. If he could just forget how damned good it had felt to have her in his arms again yesterday.

  “Joe Rafferty, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” She opened the door and stepped out onto the top step. Her hair looked damp, and she had a new white gauze bandage taped to her temple.

  “I’m replacing these steps. They’re a lawsuit waiting to happen.” He slid his hand up the sledge’s handle and took another swing at the bottom step. Bam!

  “Stop!”

  He did, looking up at her. “Why?”

  “I didn’t ask you to destroy my front steps,” she yelled, which he thought was unnecessary since he wasn’t making noise.

  Rafe tried to maintain eye contact and ignore the fact that Heidi’s perfect breasts were heaving with outrage.

  “Stop yelling,” he said. “You’ll give yourself a headache; that is, if you haven’t already.” He refocused on the project and took another swing. Bam!

  “Stop it!” she screamed, waving her palms at him. Then Heidi started down the steps.

  Rafe stopped mid-swing, fearing she’d get in harm’s way.

  “What makes you think you could just start ripping up my front steps?” She had lowered the volume on her voice.

  Probably has given herself a headache, he thought.

  “Heidi, it was obvious to a blind man that they needed to be replaced. Someone was bound to get hurt falling on these crumbling stairs.” Tired of the helplessness he’d been feeling, Rafe was taking the bull by the horns. He knew she’d be miffed at him for doing it without permission, but he also knew she’d never in a million years grant it.

  “But this wasn’t your decision to make,” she began. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was going to start getting some quotes for having the work done,” she said, calmer now.

  Heidi stood a few steps above him, which put her chest at his face level. Her nipples budded against the thin knit fabric of her tank, and Rafe struggled to put the fact from his mind.

  Big brother, big brother, big brother…

  “Okay, I’m sorry. Now can I get back to work?” He gently nudged her back up a step.

  “No.”

  Rafe figured the shock was wearing off and the typical Heidi bull-headedness was setting in.

  “Since you’ve totally ruined the bottom step, I guess I’ll have to hire someone immediately. Now why don’t you and your trusty sledgehammer just go on home?”

  “Can’t. I’ve got a job to do here.” He took hold of her upper arms and backed her up to the top step.

  “But I don’t want you to. I’m perfectly capable of paying someone to do any home improvement projects that I don’t want to tackle myself.”

  She was getting angry again, but Rafe was determined to play it cool. After all, he owed her. It was his fault she’d been hurt on the job. He should have been the one to put away the supplies. And if he hadn’t been carrying out that idiotic plan to make her think he and Barbara were dating, he would have been. He was the one who’d deserved a heavy blow to the noggin. As a matter of fact, his sisters had suggested that exact treatment on more than one occasion over the years.

  “Are you even listening to me?” she asked, stirring him from his mental chastisement.

  “Of course I am,” he said. “Why don’t you go on inside and get started calling someone about a quote on these steps?”

  She nodded with a self-satisfied smile, as if the matter was settled, and turned to go inside. Rafe resumed demolition after catching himself checking out her tush, and then grinned with devilish satisfaction when Heidi growled at him in frustration and slammed the front door.

  Chapter Seven

  Heidi peeked out from under the edge of her bedroom mini-blinds, not wanting Rafe to know she was watching him. After another evening of working out there without her acknowledging his presence, or even offering him so much as a glass of water, Heidi thought he would have given up. He was sweaty and filthy, and it made her mouth water just to look at him. Rafe’s white T-shirt was soaked with perspiration, making it almost transparent. His muscles rippled and clenched with every movement of his body and the dark shadow from his chest hair brought back memories she’d tried time and time again to forget.

  Rafe dropped his hammer on the ground by the form he was finishing and pulled the well-worn ball cap from his head. He swiped at his brow with his forearm and then pitched the cap to land next to the hammer. Before Heidi could predict what he was about to do, Rafe whipped his shirt over his head and ran the wadded-up cloth over his face, head and chest. He was obviously hot, but Heidi realized she was the one in dire need of a hosing down. She backed away from the window, careful not to let the blinds sway, and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” she mumbled, wanting to comfort him in more ways than one. And yet, at the same time, she wanted to clock him for totally disregarding her wishes.

  “Why should I feel guilty? I told him I didn’t want him doing it. If he’s hot and thirsty, it’s his own damned fault.” The rationalization always served to fuel the fires of her determination, but every time she set eyes on Rafe, they dampened and fizzled.

  Things at the garage that day had been torturous. Rafe was worse than a mother hen. Heidi had found herself wishing he would leave to go to lunch with Barbara, but then the Black Widow had shown up in an outfit even more seductive than the last and made her even more depressed. Although it hadn’t seemed like Rafe had invited Barbara, the woman had brought a gourmet picnic lunch for two. Rafe had tried to include Heidi, probably so he could continue to keep a watchful eye on her, but the look on Barbara’s face had made it clear she wasn’t welcome to join them in the office.

  Heidi was becoming more and more convinced that leaving Rafferty’s was the only way she would be able to maintain what little pride and sanity she had left.

  The banging of the hammer resumed, and Heidi resisted the urge to peek back out the window. Another glimpse of a shirtless Rafe might just send her over that precarious edge.

  He was almost finished building the form for the new steps, after clearing away all the old concrete. Once the new concrete was poured maybe he’d be gone, and Heidi could find some peace in her own home.

  —

  “Hello. Rafe, isn’t it?”

  Rafe looked up from the Camry’s engine block to see Sean Fitzgerald walking through the open door. He wondered if the vacuum hose Heidi had replaced on his Corvette had worked its way loose. Then he noticed the bouquet of flowers Sean was carrying, and Rafe felt his hackles rise.

  “That’s right. Sean, right? Is there something wrong with your car?”

  �
��No, it’s in tip-top shape, thanks to Heidi. Is she around?” Sean twirled the cellophane-wrapped bouquet in his fingers.

  Rafe wanted to tell the guy no, but that wasn’t the kind of thing someone with brotherly feelings toward Heidi would do. Even though he wouldn’t pursue her romantically, he didn’t exactly want to watch someone else do it. He knew his attitude was selfish, but damn it, it was too soon after their lovemaking for him to see her with another man.

  “Yeah, she’s just getting something from the storeroom.” Rafe had spent half the night after her accident shoring up all the shelving units and cleaning it up. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have ever let her set foot inside it again. “She’ll be right out.” He decided not to mention the flowers.

  “George told me about Heidi getting hurt the other day. I take it she’s okay, since she’s back at work.”

  Reminding Rafe of his negligence didn’t endear Sean Fitzgerald to him at all.

  “I wouldn’t let her set foot in this garage if I wasn’t one-hundred-percent certain she was okay.” The widening of Sean’s eyes made Rafe aware of his threatening tone.

  Well, he thought, too damned bad.

  “Sean, what are you doing here? Is your car okay? I thought I’d taken care of the problem for you.”

  Both men turned toward Heidi as she walked toward Sean. Rafe didn’t like the way she stopped so close to the guy.

  Sean laughed. “My car’s fine.” He lifted the flowers toward her. “These are for you.”

  “For me?” she repeated, with what Rafe knew was genuine surprise.

  “George told me about your little mishap the other day.” Sean lifted his hand to touch the bandage at her right temple, and Rafe resisted the urge to rip the guy’s arm out of its socket.

  “I also wanted to thank you for your gift,” Sean added.

  Gift, what gift?

  “You’re welcome. I hoped you might enjoy it as much as I did,” Heidi said, smiling. She inhaled the flowers’ scent.