Love on the Free Side

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Love on the Free Side Page 9

by Mariah Ankenman


  Her ex boyfriend’s words came back to haunt her. Okay, she had a lot of issues that still plagued her when it came to Tony. From a clinical standpoint, she knew her intimacy issues stemmed from that one night of rejection years ago. Her difficulty to connect emotionally, romantically, most likely due to her heart being broken at the tender age of nineteen. Sure, she knew all of that, but it didn’t help her get over it.

  “And you figured buying your old make-out spot would? You are an idiot, Jamie Thompson.”

  One could argue she had two Harvard degrees stating otherwise, but common sense and book smarts were two very different things.

  Giving up on the cursed inverted animal pose, she tucked down onto her knees, stretching her hands over her head. The soft foam of her yoga mat pressed into her forehead. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, counting to fifty before lifting up onto her knees.

  “It’s a brand new day, and I’ve got a crud ton to do. Let’s kick this pig.” Twenty-six years old and she still had a hard time swearing. Intimacy issues weren’t her only problem.

  After a quick shower and inhaling a bagel, Jamie poured some coffee in a travel mug and headed out to her truck. She really needed to get one of her own. Currently, she still drove her dad’s. Since he retired last year, he didn’t need it much. He’d offered it to her happily, stating he would only need it come hunting season.

  She hopped into the faithful old girl, sticking the key in the ignition. But when she turned the engine over nothing happened. Pumping the clutch, she tried again. Still nothing.

  “What the heck?”

  After two more unsuccessful tries, she opened the door, jumping from the cab to the ground. Dirt crunched under her feet as she made her way to the front of the vehicle. Slipping her fingers under the hood, she found the release hook and lifted. The engine looked…like an engine.

  What was she doing? She knew nothing about cars. All she saw was a bunch of metal and hoses.

  “See? I may have a doctorate, but I have no idea why my truck won’t start.” Different kind of smarts.

  Sighing in defeat, she pulled out her cell and called Pete Miller. He owned the one and only car repair shop in Peak Town. As the phone rang in her ear, she contemplated why fate was being such a nasty witch to her lately. Could she have one day when something didn’t pop up to bite her in the behind?

  “Pete’s Auto Body,” a gruff voice answered.

  “Hey, Pete. It’s Jamie Thompson.”

  “Jamie Thompson, well, hell. I heard you were back in town. Bought the old Dunn place so they say. How you doing, doll?”

  “I’ve had better days.” Just not lately. She went on to explain about her car troubles.

  “And you have no idea what’s wrong?”

  She could diagnose a person’s mental health with mere observation, but she had no idea what she was looking at when she’d opened the truck’s hood.

  “No, but it won’t start, and it has a fresh battery and full tank of gas. My dad takes care of his truck.”

  A chuckle sounded in her ear. “Oh, I know he does. Bert Thompson loves that thing second to you and your mama. He’d never let Ginger fall into disrepair.”

  She would never understand why grown men felt the need to name their cars. Perhaps by personifying the object, they formed a connection to it, and therefore took better care of it. That was the case with her father.

  Guilt prickled. Her dad loved his truck. She’d hate to think she did anything to harm it. He wouldn’t blame her because he was the best father ever. Still, her parents had always taught her to be responsible when borrowing others’ things. If she broke his truck, even accidentally, she’d feel awful.

  “I’ll come up later today and tow it to the shop. Give her a good look over. I’ll figure out what’s wrong with Ginger and have her up and running in no time.”

  “Thanks, Pete. I appreciate it. I might be gone when you get here, so I’ll leave the key under the wheel well.”

  He grunted an agreement and hung up.

  Shoot! What was she going to do now? A million things to do and no way to do them. Peak Town wasn’t exactly public transit friendly. No need in a town of less than five thousand people. She could always ride Bay into town, but she couldn’t bring home any supplies on horseback.

  “Dang it!”

  “Whoa, such foul language, Ms. Thompson.”

  Whirling around, she clutched a hand over her racing heart. There stood six feet of sexy, double dimpled trouble. Gah. Had she been so absorbed in her own dilemma she hadn’t heard him drive up? The large black truck behind him screamed yes, she had.

  Tilting her head to the heavens, she sighed, “Could this day get any worse?”

  “Probably.”

  She glared. “Rhetorical question.”

  He shrugged. “So, what happened?”

  Angry, but knowing it was unfair to take it out on Tony simply because he was an easy target—even if he was a small source of her frustration—she gestured to the vehicle behind her. “My truck won’t start, and I have to run a bunch of errands in town today.”

  He glanced over her shoulder then back at her. “I could take you into town. Drive you around for the day.”

  Just what she didn’t need—a whole day in very close proximity to Tony. She wasn’t sure what would explode first, her temper or her hormones.

  “Don’t you want to take a look at the car?” she asked, grasping for any other solution. “See if you can fix it?”

  His brow drew down in confusion. “I’m a chef, not a mechanic.”

  “I thought all guys knew about cars and stuff.”

  “Sexist much?” He crossed his arms over his chest, a smile picking up the corner of his mouth. “Just because I have a penis doesn’t automatically mean I know about cars.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “You’re a woman, but you don’t wear makeup.”

  Her hand flew to her face. True, she never wore much makeup. Never quite got the hang of all those foundations, primers, and liner nonsenses. Every time she tried to use the stuff she ended up looking like a clown. Or a streetwalker.

  “We don’t have to be what society tells us.”

  She knew that. Heck, it was her job to assure people of that very notion.

  Flustered, and a little embarrassed, she brushed a hand over her heated cheeks. She opened her mouth to reply, but she had no idea what to say.

  “Besides,” Tony continued, his voice dropping. He took a step forward and reached out a hand, softly stroking his fingers down her cheek. “You don’t need any of that stuff. You’re too lovely as it is, bonita.”

  Good thing the truck was behind her, because her knees were suddenly putty. She leaned back, bracing herself on the heap of broken metal. Dang, she’d forgotten how lost Tony could make her with a few simple words. Her heart thundered loudly in her ears, heat infusing every inch of her body.

  He leaned in, placing his hands against the driver side door on either side of her head. “Would you like me to escort you around town?”

  No, I’d like you to escort me inside to my bed.

  Arrrrgh. No she wouldn’t! Why did this man always make her lose her head?

  “No, that’s not necessary.” The words came out breathier than she intended. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I can call…” Shoot, who could she call? Her mom still worked at the Title office all day, and her dad had no car since his was here and currently not running. Hence her dilemma.

  “I’ll call Maggie or Lizzy.”

  Tony shook his head, gaze never leaving her. “They’re both at the shop today. I went by to grab some cupcakes before coming here. The line ran out the door.”

  Shoot! That meant they were too busy to come rescue her. But wait, did that mean—

  “You have cupcakes?” Her stomach growled. The bagel she had earlier couldn’t hold a candle to Maggie’s cupcakes.

  “Half a dozen Raspberry Ruffles.”

  Her favorite.
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br />   “Thought you might be hungry.” He grinned then, a full-blown, dimple revealing, panty dropping smile.

  Dang it! Not fair. Here she was trying to be a grown up, get her new business off the ground while dealing with set back after set back, and he shows up with his sexy smile, sweet helpfulness, thoughtful remembering of her favorite dishes, and swoops in to save the day.

  She. Was. Mad. At. Him.

  So, why did she feel her lips curving up into a smile? “Half a dozen you say?”

  He chuckled. The sweet smell of sugar and raspberry wafted from his lips across her cheek.

  “Well, four now. I must admit, the smell got to me. I ate two on the way over.”

  Couldn’t blame him. Maggie’s cupcakes were the most tempting thing around.

  “So, how about it?” The dark chocolate gaze swept over her face, caressing without touching. “Would you like me to take you?”

  Oh heck yeah! Okay, Maggie’s cupcakes were the second most tempting thing in Peak Town.

  “Um…” She really didn’t have a choice, but the thought of being around Tony all day seriously messed with her head and other body parts.

  “I am your employee,” he pointed out when she continued to hesitate. “So, we could just see this as another aspect of my job.”

  His job, right. She could do that. Just an employee driving his boss around. Happened all the time.

  People also have affairs with their bosses all the time.

  Why did her brain have to point that out at this moment?

  Shutting down her inner thoughts, she pasted on a bright smile. “Right, that makes sense. I know I hired you as a chef, but it seems you’re filling in as a Jack-of-all-trades at the moment. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  He leaned in closer, and for one brief moment, she thought he might kiss her. For longer than a moment, her stupid self wanted him to.

  But then he pushed away from the truck, holding out a hand. “Come. Let’s get you some sweets and tackle that to-do list.”

  Knowing it was crazy, but unable to resist, she placed her hand in his. Memories came rushing to the forefront of her brain. Late night talks, whispered promises, sweet touches, hot caresses, deep kisses. Her body sparked like she’d touched a live wire, and she immediately dropped his hand.

  Tony glanced at her, confusion drawing his brows together. “Jamie? Everything all right?”

  “Yeah-yes. Yes, everything is fine. We just need to hurry.” She rushed past him to his truck. “I have a lot to do today, and I’m already running behind.”

  She climbed into the cab and fastened her seatbelt. Tony joined her, starting the truck—on the first try, dang it.

  He pushed the box of cupcakes across the bench seat to her. “Here, eat.”

  She grabbed one, stuffing it in her mouth without looking.

  As Tony drove into town, his hot gaze landed on her from time to time like a physical caress. She caught his glances from the corner of her eye, but she avoided eye contact, instead staring directly out the window at the passing scenery.

  What the heck was she doing? Hadn’t she learned the first time? Sure, he was sweet and sexy, but he also broke her heart. It took her years to get over him. It would be stupid to start anything up again. No matter how much he still made her heart flutter and body quiver. One broken heart was enough.

  She chewed the delicious cupcake, tart fruit and sweet sugar exploding on her tongue. This was all she needed, delicious food and her ranch. Who needed a man when there were so many battery operated options out there for a girl these days? She was just fine on her own, thank you very much.

  Jamie snuck a quick peek of the man sitting beside her, the man who’d saved her bacon twice now in less than a week. Tony being here was proving to be a lifesaver, but she was positive she could have solved all her problems without his help. She didn’t need a man…right?

  Chapter 13

  Of all the difficulties Tony had in life at the moment, driving Jamie around was not one of them. He pulled his uncle’s truck onto the main road in the heart of town. His passenger had been quiet the entire ride. One might mistake her silence for worry, but he knew better. She stewed over in the passenger seat. Only the years of polite manners drilled into her by her parents kept her from lashing out at the present situation.

  He coughed, hiding his chuckle as best he could. If he laughed outright, her fury might outweigh manners, and she’d ream into him. Her truck breaking down wasn’t his fault, they both knew that, but she had a hard mad going on, and he was the only available target. As sweet and bubbly as Jamie could be, the woman had a fierce temper when riled.

  At least she used to.

  Damn, it sucked to realize he might not know her as well as he once did. At one point in his life, she had been closer to him than anyone, and vice versa. They’d known everything about each other, every quirk, every annoyance, every turn on…okay, so they hadn’t fully explored that aspect of their relationship before it got shot to hell.

  “I need to stop at the hardware store first and place an order.”

  Figuring that would be her first stop, he was already headed in that direction. The small store and lumber yard simply named Tom’s, after the proprietor, stood at the end of the main road. Unlike most of the strip stores, Tom’s had a small parking lot for customers. Tony pulled the truck into the half-full lot, parking a few spots down from the front door.

  “You can wait in the car if—”

  He was already out of the truck and coming around to her door before she finished her sentence. He might be playing chauffeur today, but that didn’t mean he had to stay put while she ran all over town. He wasn’t a dog.

  Don’t be so sure about that, buddy. Ask Jamie if she thinks you are and see what the lady says.

  Okay, so his brain had a point. After the way he’d ended things years ago, he’d bet she built a special doghouse in her mind just for him. Dammit. He’d been trying to do the right thing. Not get in her way. And look at all she’d accomplished. Didn’t that prove what he’d done was right? He hadn’t wanted to break up with her. Damn near killed him to do it.

  She hadn’t been the only one to suffer, to sacrifice.

  Holding out his hand to help her out of the truck, he gazed into her exasperated, beautiful face and wondered what she’d think if he told her he hadn’t had a serious relationship since her. He’d bedded other women—he wasn’t a complete monk—but he didn’t get involved. He had a few mutual acquaintances over the years who knew the score. Women he connected with when he needed to scratch the itch. They knew the game and liked it that way. Connecting on an emotional level was not necessary.

  Only lately, that hadn’t been working out so well for him. It had been…damn, almost a year since his last casual hook up. He couldn’t even blame it on work. The restaurant business took an insane amount of his time, but if he wanted to he could make time—like he had for his uncle. He just wasn’t interested.

  Tony caught the roll of Jamie’s eyes as she slipped her hand into his. Once again, the first touch of skin on skin shocked like a bolt of lightning. His body went taut with need. The sweet smell of cherry blossoms reached out and wrapped around him, suffocating him in a delicious haze of lust. He shifted at the sudden discomfort in his tightening jeans.

  Well shit. His interest had returned with a vengeance it seemed. And for the one woman he’d bet his left nut he didn’t have a shot in hell with. Didn’t that beat all?

  Unaware of his sudden discomposure, Jamie stepped out of the truck and dropped his hand the instant her feet hit the ground. She moved past him without a word.

  Not wanting to be left behind, he shut the truck door and hurried to catch her as she breezed through the front door of the store. Tom’s looked exactly the same as it had the last time he’d been in here years ago. Yellowed shelves lined the shop, filled with tools, nails, screws, paint, and other fix-it-up type stuff. A door in the back led to the yar
d where all the lumber the town needed was stored. At the front stood a long, wooden counter with an ancient looking register. Sitting behind the counter on—he would swear his life on it—the same old, rusted metal stool he’d used for ages, sat Tom McCauley. The old guy had to be pushing seventy, but with his round face and full head of thick, gray hair, he could pass for a much younger man.

  Putting down his copy of the Peak Town Press, he glanced up at them, a broad smile crossing his cheerful face. “Well, I’ll be a sonofagun. Jamie Thompson and Tony Ortiz? I heard you kids were back in town. So glad the rumor mill is right for once.”

  “Hi, Mr. McCauley.” Jamie beamed, a beautiful smile that made his heart catch.

  Tom laughed. “Oh come on now, there’s no need for such formalities, Jamie. I’ve known you since you were a wee thing. I remember the time you streaked down the sidewalk in nothing but your diaper after spilling a whole bowl of ice cream on yourself at Merle’s.” The old guy chuckled. “Your mom was chasing you down the street, holding out a shirt and hollering like a banshee.”

  Her face turned bright red.

  Interesting—Tony didn’t recall ever hearing that story. Seems they hadn’t shared everything about their lives when they’d been together.

  “Yes, well, I’m much better at keeping messes off my clothes now.”

  “I’m sure you are, darling. Now, what brings you to my fine establishment today?”

  Pulling a piece of paper from her purse, she pushed it across the desk to Tom. “I need some supplies. I’m fixing up the old Dunn place, and I need a few things.”

  Pudgy fingers grabbed the slip of paper. Sliding thin wire glasses from his head to his nose, Tom examined the list. “Oh yes, I heard about that.”

  Of course he had.

  “You settin’ up a horse camp for kids or something like that?”

  Not even close to the amazing business she had planned in his opinion, but Jamie just smiled and nodded.

  “Yes, it’s an equine therapy ranch. We’ll cater to people in need, veterans, and offer summer camps for at risk youth.”

  The older man gave a strong nod, a smile of pride on his face. “Always knew you’d do something amazing. We all did.”

 

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