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Revving Her Up(12)

By:Joy Daniels


Why would things be any different with Cole?

With that depressing thought, Sarah tamped down the last embers of her desire and looked at the clock on the garage’s back wall. It was almost five. “How long do you think it will take you to fix my car?” She mentally calculated the remaining distance to the spa. If she left by eight, she’d still be able to make the late check-in…

“A couple of hours.” Cole rolled his shoulders in a way that made Sarah’s insides do somersaults. “Once we get the part.”

“Great.” She was trying to recall where she’d left her purse when his words penetrated. “Get the part? You mean you don’t have it here?”

Mike laughed. “No, ma’am. Porsches have special everything. Not much call for them around here.”

She failed to see what was so funny. “When will it arrive? I have a reservation at The Spa at Westwood. They’re expecting me tonight.”

“The part will have to be sent over from Richmond,” Cole said. He had a look of sympathy on his face. “That ain’t happening today, darlin’. Sorry.”

Now that she had decided that it was best to go, she couldn’t. An unfamiliar feeling of panic gripped her. “Not leave tonight?” Her voice cracked. “You mean I’m stuck here?”

“I’m afraid so,” Cole said. Mike nodded his agreement.

“But where will I stay? Is there even a motel in this town?”

Cole opened his mouth to speak, but Mike let out a startled yelp, his gaze on the clock. “Man, is that the time? I gotta get the truck back to the shop.”

Cole held out a hand to the mechanic. “Thanks for getting the car down here, Mike. Sorry for keeping you so long.”

“No problem, man,” Mike said as the men shook hands. “Really. And thanks for letting me watch you work. It was awesome.”

“Watch?” Cole swung an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “You were a big help. I really appreciate it.”

Mike’s face lit up when Cole stepped back with a nod. “I helped? Really?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, glad to do it, man.” He turned to Sarah. “Like I told you, ma’am, you don’t gotta worry about a thing. Cole’s the best. He’ll take care of you.”

“That’s fine for my car, but what about me?” She struggled to keep a childish whine out of her voice. This wasn’t part of the plan. She was supposed to leave tonight. “Where am I supposed to stay tonight?”

“You can stay here,” Cole said.

Mike let out a low whistle. “That certainly beats the old roach motel by the highway.”

Roach motel? Like any New Yorker, Sarah shuddered at the mere mention of the disgusting scurrying insects, even though Mike was likely exaggerating.

Wasn’t he?

Mike continued, seemingly oblivious to the impact of his words. “Cole’s got an awesome place above the garage here.” He pointed over their heads. “Jimmie stayed there once, right?” he asked Cole. “And Junior?” Cole nodded and the other man shook his head. “Damn.”

If Mike’s words were meant to impress her they fell short of the mark, as Sarah had no idea who those men were. She didn’t care if George Washington himself had slept there—it was the presumed lack of roaches that sealed it for her.

The fact that it was Cole’s place they were talking about was irrelevant, of course.

Mike’s departure forestalled any more questions. After a round of backslapping and high fives, promises of beers and a “catchya later”, he headed out the door.

Mike was almost at the truck when Sarah called out to him. He turned, looking surprised. She waved at the Porsche. “Thanks. For rescuing me and my car.”

The man smiled and red stained his cheeks. He touched his ball cap. “Pleasure, ma’am.” He hoisted himself into the tow truck. With the crunch of gravel and a final horn, he was gone.

They were alone—her, Cole and the cars. And she was staying the night.

Sarah cleared her throat. “Thanks for giving me a place to stay. I mean, the guest room sounds great.”

Cole nodded, back under the car. “No problem.”

In spite of her decision, Sarah couldn’t deny the prick of disappointment. If their attraction was mutual, wouldn’t he want her to stay a bit…closer?

It’s for the best.

Except for the ping of metal against metal the garage was silent. Perhaps she should get her laptop out of her bag and try to do some work—

“So, what made you decide to get a car like this?”

Sarah started, then exhaled unsteadily. Conversation. Small talk. She could do this.