Talk Flirty To Me: Cheap Thrills Series Book 4

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by Moore, Mary B.




  Contents

  Talk Flirty To Me

  Talk Flirty To Me

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Cheap Thrills Series

  About the Author

  Talk Flirty To Me

  Copyright © 2020 Mary B Moore

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incident are products of the authors imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

  Cover Photograph: Golden Czermack, FuriousFotog

  Cover Model: Michael Abantantiono

  With: Pathways Talent Services, Richard Edwards

  Editor: B&C

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV Shows, and song titles/ lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Copyright Act 1911 and the Copyright Act 1988, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author.

  This book is intended for mature adults only and contains consensual sexual content and language that may offend some. Suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Adult Romance. If this isn’t your type of book, then please don’t purchase it.

  This book is covered under the United Kingdom’s Copyright Laws. For more information on the Copyright, please visit: https://www.gov.uk/copyright/overview.

  Talk Flirty To Me

  Katy Crew

  Ever felt like you’ve had a crush on someone your whole life, but they never see you back? That’s what it felt like with Jarrod Kline. I worked in the same building as him, I gave him his jobs, I took his order when I went out for lunch… but that was it.

  Being shy didn’t help either. I wanted to be like the other women around me – ballsy, a go-getter, confident… I wanted to be like Tabby, Jose, Rose, and the Townsend women.

  One night, over margaritas, we hatched a plan – the ‘Get Yo Man Plan’, aka GYMP. Sober, I realize what we’ve called it, but by then it’s too late. The GYMP is motion, and it’s too late to turn back.

  Jarrod

  I was the longest baby the day I was born, the tallest in preschool, the tallest in kindergarten… you get the point, I’ve always stood out. The problem was, I was also uncomfortable with it. For once I wanted to not be seen, to do something and no one could see me doing it.

  After Tabby made a joke about me becoming an audiobook narrator, I looked it up. It seemed easy enough, so I went for it and decided to live for the day. Now, I was a mechanic by day, audiobook narrator by night, except few people know about the last part.

  Initially, it was uncomfortable reading some of the scenes, but then Katy starting working at the garage and they took on a whole new meaning. I just have one question, what the hell is GYMP?

  Dedication

  When I wrote Fireball last year, Jarrod was meant to be just a background character. All it took was two sentences into his first appearance and I was hooked. Ever since then, whenever he’s popped into a book I’ve fallen deeper in love. Because of that, it was only right that I include a country that I love and partly grew up in, Jamaica, as well as my favorite place there – Port Royal. (Side note: if you ever go to Jamaica, you’re missing out true beauty by not going to see it. It’s where James Bond drove his car crazy near in Dr. No, y’all! Bond and Bond… you’ll see the link soon enough).

  I can’t actually dedicate this to one person because too many people have wanted his story, so I’m going to dedicate it to some of the bands that made Jarrod who he was to me in this book.

  Eric Clapton, CBE

  George Harrison, MBE

  Tom Petty

  Red Hot Chili Peppers

  Dan Vasc

  Also to Henry Cavill who gave me hours of entertainment while I was writing this in 2019.

  But mostly, I want to actually dedicate this outright to my parents. My song with my dad is My Fathers Eyes, and as we drove down the Palisodoes/Norman Manley Highway, he’d be rocking out air guitaring. Even when we got to the roundabout, he’d be steering with one hand around it, then went straight back to it. My poor mum put up with a lot from us and she still laughs as we do our crazy things. She’s also put up with years of us playing Eric Clapton, George Harrison, The Traveling Wilburys, Tom Petty and many others as we drove around the different countries we lived in. And yes, we air guitared in all of them.

  xox

  One

  Jarrod

  It wasn’t unheard of for a mechanic to have to reattach a bumper that had come off a car. It also wasn’t unheard of to have to fix areas of a vehicle that had become twisted or dented because of an accident. What was unheard of was to have to remove pieces of metal that had been welded to the underside of the car – which had almost ripped a hole in the undercarriage – that had part of an industrial chain still attached to it, fix a new bumper to the vehicle because the other one looked like it had been hit by a semi, and also patch up nine holes that had gone straight through the bodywork of the car when the chain had snapped and whipped into it.

  The question I had was – why was there a chain attached to the underside of the vehicle? And for that matter, why did it look like a Transformer had attacked the bumper?

  And finally, why was Hurst Townsend standing next to his friend, Bill Richards, whose car was in the same condition, looking so guilty and worried?

  Scratching the back of my neck, I tried to figure out how best to phrase it all, but there was only one thing for it. “It’s fucked, Hurst. I mean, we can fix it, but I’m thinking insurance won’t cover this.”

  Bill’s body straightened up and stiffened at this and, with his head tipped back so he was looking at the ceiling, he hissed, “Shit!”

  Avoiding my eyes, Hurst looked around us and then winced when he saw the damage to the cars again. “Uh, is there any way to do this like… well, off the books?”

  Not understanding what he was asking for, I repeated, “Off the books?”

  Clearing his throat, he gestured at his vehicle. “Yeah, so that no one knows.”r />
  Now it was my turn to look around us, but I did it with good reason. “Um, Hurst, we’re standing in your grandson’s garage. One of them will most likely end up working on this with me, but even if they didn’t, they’re going to recognize the car,” I drawled, and then looked over at the other man who was now chewing on his lip. “And your grandson’s a deputy here, so he probably knows y’all had an accident, right?”

  Muttering something under his breath, Bill plastered a smile on his face and nodded. “Absolutely, of course he does. As soon as it happened we rang him and reported it. Didn’t we, Hurst?”

  Crossing my arms, I watched Hurst try to think of his addition to this merry tale. I wasn’t buying it for a second – these two were trouble together, and this wasn’t the first ‘mishap’ to their cars we’d had to fix.

  Snapping his fingers, Hurst spun around with a smile on his face – although it had to be said it was one of relief. “Yup, sure did. As soon as it happened we rang through and he came out to inspect it and wrote it all down in his notepad.”

  “I see,” I hummed, walking around to the other side of Bill’s car and almost choking when I saw that the rear panel was completely missing and the chain attached to his car was now wrapped around the axle. “And what exactly happened?”

  They exchanged a few glances, and then Bill shook his head and took a step back, leaving Hurst to answer the question.

  “It was a hit and run?”

  “What exactly hit you?”

  “It was too dark for us to see.”

  Turning to face Bill, I watched him take a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipe his forehead. “How did it hit both of you at the same time?”

  Sighing, he hunched his shoulders and looked at the floor. “Pure luck, I guess.”

  “And where did the chain come from?”

  By this point the poor man was almost bent over in two as he repeated, “Pure luck, I guess.”

  Hearing a noise from the office that overlooked the garage, I glanced up and saw another person who confused me – albeit in a good way – Katy Crew. She was staring incredulously at the two vehicles until Hurst moved and caught her attention, then she rolled her eyes and shook her head, the questions in her mind over the type of damage answered immediately. Amen, babe, amen.

  Dragging my attention back to the two old miscreants in front of me, I asked, “And what did Logan think about it all?”

  “Um, not much. He just wrote in his little book and that was it.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I made to reach for the phone in my back pocket, making it clear what I was going to do.

  “Ok, fine,” Hurst snapped, throwing his arm out toward his friend. “Bill and me started having ‘man night’ every other Thursday three months ago.”

  Taking in a fidgeting Bill, I knew I’d kick myself for it, but I just had to know. “Man night?”

  Oh, I knew what one of those was, absolutely, but Bill and Hurst were in their seventies so I was trying to figure out an age relevant version of the type I was familiar with.

  Tilting his chin up slightly, Hurst narrowed his eyes at me. “Yeah, guys our age have those and it doesn’t have to be playing Bridge or watching a black and white movie, ya know.”

  Nothing wrong with black and white movies, I loved them. I also loved the dubbed over martial arts movies, too, but to the best of my knowledge, no one had ever wrecked their cars because of them.

  Seeing that I was still waiting, he sighed, “Ok, so we got to watching this movie with fast cars in it, and there was a scene where they stole a safe from a police station and drove it through Brazil.”

  Immediately my head dropped so that I was staring at the toes of my boots, knowing exactly which movie he was talking about. “You watched Fast Five, didn’t you?”

  Fast & Furious 5 was my favorite out of them all, but it tied with the sixth one where they went to the UK and found Letty. The one he was talking about involved Vin Diesel and Paul Walker breaking a huge safe out of the police station in Brazil by attaching chains and dragging it out of a wall and through the streets with their cars. It was a fucking awesome movie and one of the smartest plots ever, but it was also impossible to do – as Bill and Hurst had apparently found out.

  “That was the one,” Bill muttered, looking at the cars and wincing. “I wanted to add some Noz to them and build a ten second car so we could race for pinks, but he,” he nodded his head at Hurst, “wanted to do this.”

  Rubbing the back of my neck, torn between laughing and losing my shit, I tried to picture them dragging a big safe behind them. “What kind of safe did you use and where did you tear it out of?”

  “That’s irrelevant,” Hurst mumbled, looking around the garage again, no doubt for one of his grandsons.

  Apparently Bill was in a sharing mood, though, because he pulled his phone out and brought a photo up on the screen. “This was it. I had it in my shed out back, hidden behind a wooden wall. Can never be too safe even if you live in a small town like ours, so I went all out. It cost a fortune and weighs a ton, but it’s good.” He told me, and then added, “At least it was good. I’m not sure about it now.”

  The photo showed what looked like a standard safe, about five feet high and four feet across, obviously taken before they’d dragged it behind their cars.

  “You got one that shows it now?”

  Sliding his finger across the screen a couple of times, he stopped on one that showed that the safe was in fact still shut tight, but the outside walls of it looked like a supernatural creature had been at them.

  Rubbing my face with my hands now, I muttered, “Jesus.”

  Before I could ask any more questions, though, Cole Townsend walked through the side door of the garage and burst out laughing when he saw his grandad standing there. “I’d be hiding too if I was you, old man. Gammy is pissed, and when I say pissed, I mean the last time I saw her she was talking about staking you down so the bull could get at you.”

  Hurst’s face went almost gray hearing this, and he swung around to face me again. “You’ve gotta fix the cars. If you do that, I can deny all of it.”

  A disbelieving whistle came from the door, and this time Ren walked through it and headed in our direction. “You’re in so much shit, Gramps. I just came from…” he stopped as he saw the cars, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times.

  Walking around to see what his brother was staring at, Cole made a choking noise when he saw it. “What the fuck?”

  Deciding that the safest thing to do would be to make a break for it, Hurst got one step into his run when a big arm shot out in front of him, and Coleman snickered, “Oh no, not this time.”

  Seeing that everyone was focused on Hurst now, Bill started inching toward the door, realizing that his path to freedom was wide open. Or at least it had been, until Tom Townsend stopped in the doorway with his arms over his chest, Logan Richards at his back giving his grandpa the same look the Townsends were now giving Hurst.

  Apparently his solution to the look was to act like he hadn’t seen Logan in years, so that’s what he did. “Hey, son, you look like you’ve grown two inches since I last saw you. How’re your parents? They good? I should probably pop round and see them, you know. It’s been a long time.”

  Moving past Tom who was still in the doorway, Logan straightened to his full height and glared down at Bill. “You saw them yesterday, I’m thinking before you and your friend decided to rip up the road with a safe, leave it embedded in the road with chains still attached to it and part of y’all’s cars. Am I right?”

  Shaking his head, Bill went straight into denial. “Nope, nuh unh. I’m seventy-six, Hurst’s seventy-three, we’re too old to do that. I mean, where’d we get the chains? We’re living on our pensions, which means Ramen noodles and bread for dinner.”

  “From the barn,” Ren clipped. “And don’t give me that shit about pensions and Ramen noodles. Both y’all eat just fine and worked hard enough not to have to rely on your pensio
ns to survive.”

  Nodding his head like the source he’d gotten the chains from was plausible and ignoring the comment about his pension, Bill then retorted, “Ok, where’d we get the stuff to attach them to the safe and cars then?”

  Leaning into the open trunk of one of the vehicles, Cole pulled out the welding machine that Ren had bought for the garage two months previously. I knew it was the same one because it had the label he’d printed out for it that read: This cost a fucking whack. You break it, you replace it. RT. And it had cost a whack, roughly four thousand whacks.

  Seeing something else, Cole let out a frustrated growl and reached in for it, coming back out with a pair of Oakley’s dangling from his finger.

  “You used these to protect your eyes? Seriously? You only just gave me these last week for my birthday.”

  My eyes flicked to Logan when he looked back at his own grandpa and growled, “Is that why you borrowed my Ray-Bans?”

  Totally unsympathetic to the misuse of their sunglasses, Ren ground out, “You stole my welding machine to attach a safe to your car?”

  “Yeah, but I followed the what you put on the label and didn’t break it. In fact, we looked after it and kept it on us the whole time,” Hurst replied with an innocent smile on his face.

  Jesus take the wheel. In fact, take all four of the wheels on both cars so they’d never drive them again.

  Taking a step closer to his grandad, Ren growled, “You did that by putting it in the back of your car which was attached to a safe - a safe you dragged for half a mile behind those cars until it got stuck in the road and ripped your cars apart.”

 

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