by Frost, Sosie
Well, at least it got him away from the sedan. I dropped the broom, grabbing his hand as he stormed past me to the fuse box.
Hot.
His hand was hot. Callused. Far larger than my own. I fit my entire hand inside of his palm and wished it hadn’t felt so…
Lovely.
Comfortable.
Dangerous.
I met his gaze, but nothing was more humiliating than this, including dropping my pants and riding him into the sunset.
“Tidus, I swear. I will pay you for the work. Just please, start now.”
He tried to pull away, but I didn’t let him, grabbing him with both hands.
“I have no time to prepare before the summer circuit begins, and even less time to get ready for the Brawl-B-Que in a few weeks. I gotta win this contest. I know you try to be a hard ass, and I know you have a shady reputation in this town, but I’m asking for your help. Would you help me? Please start work on the truck, and I will give you whatever you want.”
Irritation hardened his features, but mischief dazzled his eyes. “I already told you what I wanted. I’ll do it, but you gotta kiss me.”
“Really?”
“You said it yourself. I’m a hard-ass with a bad reputation. But, for whatever reason, you think I’m a Prince Charming. Kiss me so you realize the truth.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m not a good man.”
I didn’t want to believe that. “What if I give you a chance to do something heroic?”
“I could do everything right in this world, and everyone would still think it was wrong because I’m the one who did it. I don’t fight it anymore. It makes it easier. More fun.” He winked. “So, if you want your truck fix that badly, kiss me.”
“Why are you so hard on yourself?”
“Why are you afraid to kiss me?”
Easy. “Because I’m afraid you’ll fall in love with me.”
Tidus had a warm, deep laugh. “You think that I’m going to fall for you?”
“And I won’t have it on my conscience that I broke your heart.”
“There’s nothing there to break, sweetheart.”
“That’s not true.”
He wiped his hands on a rag, but the grease remained. Didn’t stop him from reaching for me, from pulling me closer. I shouldn’t have taken his hand, but he filled his fingers between mine as if he’d done it a thousand times before. Almost as if he liked the feeling as much as me.
“You talk to everyone in this town,” he said. “Tell me what you heard about me. What sort of man do you think I am?”
“What sort of man do you want to be?”
He hesitated with a smirk. “I asked you first.”
“My question’s better.”
“You’ve heard everything about me. The women. The drinking. The drugs.”
Even if it was true, I didn’t want to give weight to any rumors. I simply nodded.
“And yet here you are, begging me for help,” he said.
I arched an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you judge a man by the beer he drinks or his preferred vices?”
“I don’t…but everybody else does.”
“Then it’s good that we're all alone here. Nobody can see the terrible decisions I’m about to make.”
His voice warmed. “Something tells me you like a little bit of trouble.”
“I prefer to stay out of it,” I said. “And I think you can help me with that. In fact, I think you want to help me.”
“That so?”
“I don’t know a thing about you, Tidus. Only that you’re a foul mouthed, hard-assed, beast of a man who would love to get in my pants but love it even more if I kept you chasing.” I paused. “Forget what the town says about you. Let me make my own assumptions.”
“You know what happens when you assume.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’ll see what happens to my ass.”
Tidus gave me a lazy grin. “You drive a hard bargain, Honey Hudson, but if you get the fuck out of my garage and stop destroying everything I own, I’ll start on your goddamned truck this afternoon.”
The relief flooded through me. I dove at him, standing on my tiptoes to get close enough to press a gentle, soft kiss against his cheek.
“Thank you, Tidus.”
He pushed away for me, rubbing his cheek as if it were the mark of the devil. “Jesus Christ. That’s gotta be the most wholesome fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“First time for everything?” I giggled.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were starting to like me,” he said.
“Something tells me I’m the only one.”
“You probably are,” he said. “It’s a nice change. Don’t usually have someone in my corner.”
I grinned. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”
Tidus waved a hand, banishing me from the garage. “You better be one fantastic fuck.”
I caught his gaze before slipping outside, letting myself get lost in that mysterious green for one heartbeat too long.
“Only if you’re one hell of a mechanic.”
4
Tidus
Honey’s pouty, puffy lips kissed the neck of the beer bottle.
Christ, it had been too long since I had a drink. Even longer since I tasted a woman that beautiful.
Her mouth teased the top of the frosty bottle. She took a sip of the amber liquid and savored every drop. Smiled as it bubbled in her throat. A droplet teased the side of the bottle. She followed it, absently, tilting her head to lick it from the smooth glass.
Was she trying to kill me?
I imagined kissing her…that sweetness blended with the hoppy, yeasty brew. Now there was a sin. A luxury. Something I couldn’t buy at the bar, even if the county had gone dry when I needed a drink the most.
Honey sunk a plastic fork into her takeout container, examined the brisket impaled on the end, and gave such a frown it broke my heart. Her eyebrows furrowed, crinkling her expression into utter disappointment. I didn’t like seeing her upset. Then again, the only thing that seemed to upset Honey Hudson was bad barbecue.
Didn’t know what she expected. The brisket came from Barlow’s Market, frozen and re-prepared, then set out for the lunch rush. If Honey wanted high quality food, Butterpond wouldn’t deliver, metaphorically or literally. She thunked a piece of cornbread as hard as a brick against the table, sighed, and slowly closed the takeout container.
She must’ve had a dozen things to say, but Honey was a classy sort of girl. The only time she ever shut up was when she nearly criticized another person. Probably taught long ago that if she couldn’t say anything nice not to say anything at all.
I fundamentally disagreed with that. Sometimes the right things to say weren’t nice. If a person didn’t want to hear it, that was their problem.
And so, Honey, hungry and cranky, decided to dissect me instead of the barbecue.
She pointed to Spencer, grumbling to himself in the corner. I had the boy meticulously washing old, flat tires. Had a lot of mud, gunk, and trash in the tire treads, but Spencer had an old toothbrush and a bucket of soapy water to handle the problem.
Sure, he was pissed off, but at least he was busy. The problems only started once a boy got angry and had nothing to do.
Honey made a face. “So…why is that boy polishing old tires?”
I dug elbow deep into her truck’s engine and hollered. “Tell her what you did, Spence.”
Spencer nearly broke the toothbrush in half. “I misbehaved.”
“And what are you doing?”
“Scrubbing tires.”
“Why?”
“Hell if I know.”
The boy had a way with words. Honey gasped, but I let it go. “Because this way, he’ll think twice before he leaves his gum in my sister’s hair again.”
Honey crossed her arms. “But Spencer, you seemed like such a nice young boy.”
He shrugged. “Appearances can be de
ceiving.”
That was the truth, for both of us. “Cassi asked me to watch him. Said she needed a little time after the salon. Doesn’t like the new haircut, and her engagement pictures are in a week. Spencer’s lucky he made it out alive.” I hollered at him. “Make sure those tires are nice and sparkly for the dump, you get me?”
Honey bit her lip. “Why did you take his shoes?”
Wasn’t it obvious? “So he’d stop running away.”
“Why don’t you just keep a leash on him?” She laughed. “Toss him in a cage?”
“Don’t have a padlock.”
Her laugh was as intoxicating as the beer. “I’m surprised you’d volunteer to be a babysitter.”
“Appearances can be deceiving.”
Spencer chuckled. I ordered him to shut his mouth and get to work. He made a face, but he didn’t talk back. Just as well. Nothing he said would surprise me.
“I consider him my nephew,” I said. “He’s the son of one of the foster kids who grew up with us. His dad got deployed, so Spence is staying with the family until the school year is out. We understand each other.”
Honey smirked. “You have some rather unorthodox disciplinary ideas.”
I always did love a naïve girl. “You have no idea. Would you like a sample? I bet I can find a wooden spoon for…what was it? Your tushy?”
She shushed me. “Not in front of the kid.”
“He’s fine,” I said. “Doesn’t need someone to babysit him. He needs someone to beat his ass. If he keeps this up, he’ll get into plenty of fights when he is older. I’d like to prevent that. Get him on the right path.”
“And what path is that?”
“The one I didn’t take.”
“And how will you teach him?”
Honey asked a lot of infuriatingly personal questions. “I’ll lead by example.”
She laughed. “Oh God. It’s like the blind leading the blind…or the bad boy leading the bad.”
“If you don’t like it, you can find someone else to fix your truck for free.”
I’d hoped she’d take the hint and leave.
Instead, she tossed away her lunch container and shimmied her chair closer to me. “But the service here is so personable.”
Great.
Honey watched me with an unwarranted curiosity. I wasn’t used to that. Usually, people only looked in my direction when I’d fucked something up.
This woman wouldn’t stop staring. Smiling.
Talking.
“You do know what people in town say about you, right?” she asked.
I had two questions—who and what. But I’d learned long ago to keep those thoughts to myself. Invariably, the person’s opinion rarely mattered. And when it did, they never told me anything I didn’t already know. Especially about myself. Especially how I screwed everything up.
I stayed quiet, grabbing the dolly to roll under the truck. It got me away from the beer. Hardest thing I’d done all day. Fortunately, ducking her drink also hid me from her—a woman so goddamned beautiful it almost made me forget that she was a monumental pain in my ass.
In a perfect world, I would’ve thrown her out of my garage and into my bed. And while I had no doubts about my prowess, something told me a quick fuck wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her.
Honey refused to leave. She had an entire fucking town to bug, and yet she went to the store, bought lackluster barbecue, and returned to eat it with me.
She’d even been considerate enough to buy me a goddamned lemonade.
Did she get off on being wholesome? Was it like…a fetish?
Christ, was it becoming mine?
There had to be better ways to please someone than by sweeping the floors, buying them lemonade, and annoying the piss out of them as they worked. Honey Hudson might have been a beautiful woman, but she came with baggage.
Nonstop talking. Endless questions. She constantly laughed. Smiled. Made jokes.
She was a rainbow wrapped in sunshine swimming in a crystal-clear pool of mermaid tears and glitter. She even had a lovely voice. When I’d turned the radio up to drown her out, she sang along.
What was wrong with this woman?
She teased me with a leading question. “Aren’t you at all curious about what they said?”
“Curiosity only gets me in trouble.”
She grinned. Her smile could light up the room, and it probably cost me a hell of a lot less than the electricity bill for the garage.
My heart raced. My pants tightened. Served me right for sneaking another glance at her.
“That’s exactly it,” she said. “Trouble. I heard so many stories about all the trouble you got into.”
Spencer glanced over his shoulder. “Like what?”
I grunted. “This isn’t story time, it’s time out.”
“I’m too old for time out.”
“And you’re too young to be on my payroll, so it’s officially a time out.” I ignored the kid and focused only on an engine in such disrepair it was a miracle—or my own damned curse—that Honey made it to Butterpond. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Miss Hudson.”
“Why not?”
I stuck a flashlight between my teeth and poked around what might’ve been spark plugs before the fire. “Because only some of it is gonna be the truth, but none of it will be the shit you want to hear.”
Her chair scratched the cement as she edged closer to the truck. “Well, I trust you to tell me the truth.”
“What the hell do you want to know?”
And why would she want to know it?
“I’m just wondering who you are,” she said.
If I had loosened the only non-rusted bolt, the engine would have fallen on my head, a preferable alternative to the conversation.
“I’m the man working on your truck for free,” I said.
She scoffed. “You’ll get paid. Don’t change the subject. I want to know all about you. Who you are, really.”
“Right now, I’m annoyed.”
She waved a hand, banishing the thought is if she’d known me for years and not a couple days. “You’re always annoyed. There’s gotta be more to you than just mechanic, troublemaker, and unrepentant womanizer.”
She could think so, but she’d be wrong.
“Why would you expect there to be more to me than that?”
“Because I think you’re keeping secrets from everyone.”
“Everyone keeps secrets,” I said. “We have to. If we were all completely honest with each other, society would break down.”
She laughed. “I don’t think Butterpond has much of a society.”
No debutantes or galas here, but we had the important things for a town. The good and bad side of the tracks. The respected families…and my brothers. Everyone knew each other’s names, business, and a generation’s worth of secrets. In Butterpond, criticisms were served with casseroles and gossip spilled like iced tea.
Honey tapped her foot impatiently against the cement. Even that rhythm was chipper and upbeat.
“So, tell me your secrets, Tidus. I promise, I won’t be shocked. If I faint, you won’t even have to catch me.” She waited, pouted, and then began to whine. “Come on. I’ve been out of work for a couple days. I have nothing to do, and I’m stuck in a teeny tiny town where the only thing people talk about are the Payne boys.”
I smirked. “My reputation precedes me.”
“Not just you. The town talks about your entire family.”
Now, that was far more interesting than hearing the same old disparaging complaints about me.
The family hated gossip. My eldest brother, Julian, the most. He loathed being the center of attention, even though he was the golden child that most of the town loved. In the past, Marius, the second oldest, wouldn’t have given a damn what anyone else thought, especially since he shipped off at eighteen to join the Navy and then the SEALs. However, he might have paid good money for that sort of opposition research now that he was running for may
or. And Pastor Varius tried so hard to avoid the gossip, or, at least the whispers regarding his beautiful new girlfriend and her potentially scandalous former dancing job.
Even the youngest of us, Quint, was trying to keep a low profile. Probably because he’d already banged every available girl in Butterpond.
Still, this was intriguing. I wheeled out from under the truck.
“Tell me what you’ve heard,” I said.
Honey leaned down, a lock of ebony hair escaping her bandanna and grazing her cheek. I imagined brushing it away, but I kept my hands a respectable distance from her. I wasn’t a gentleman, but I’d be damned if I left a streak of grease against the perfection of her dark cheek.
Besides, if my hand was to print anywhere, it’d be smacked on that perfect ass.
“What have I heard…” She tapped her chin. “Well, your oldest brother is a strapping, unbelievably handsome man who used to play football for the Ironfield Rivets. But he had to retire super early.”
Spencer stood, dropping the tire. “Uncle Julian would’ve been the best running back ever. I still have his jersey.”
He was probably the only boy who had it. Even Julian had burned his long ago.
“Julian broke his back his rookie year,” I said. “Tried to hide the injury and kept playing until he practically crippled himself. He lost millions and millions of dollars because he was too proud to tell anyone that he was in pain. Lost his contract. Lost his job.” I paused. “Almost lost our family farm, but he seems happy with it now. Got married. Had a kid.”
Honey smiled. Must have liked a happy ending. “I’m glad it worked out for him, to have something good come out of all that bad luck.”
“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
She nodded. “I also heard that your other brother, the one running for mayor? He lost his leg overseas.”
And there was a time that the injury put him in a dark and terrible place that rivaled my own misery. I shrugged. “He got a blown off on some top-secret mission he can’t tell us about. We didn’t think he’d survive, and he really didn’t want to either. He left the SEALs, came home, knocked a girl up. Now he wants to be mayor.”
