The Last One(14)

“You must be here for the Honda.” Boomer ignored Sam, which won him instant points with me.

“Yes, I am. But please ...” I coated my voice with honey. “Please go ahead and take care of Mr. Reynolds here first. I’d hate to hold him up.”

One side of Boomer’s mouth tipped up. “Plugs are in, Sam. Give me a minute here and I’ll get ‘em for you.” He stepped around me to get behind the counter, where he flipped a few papers and then slid one across to me. “Replaced the serpentine belt, took her for a test drive. Looks good.” He picked up the invoice and squinted at it. “Comes to $131.48.”

“Fine. Thanks.” I dug into my handbag. “You take credit cards, right?”

“Yup.” He nodded and took my Visa from me when I presented it. “Gotta go in the back to run it. I’ll have Vic bring the car around the front. Sam, be right with you.” He came back around the counter, and I sidestepped out of his way, trying to keep as far away from Sam as I could at the same time.

Boomer paused with one hand on the door to the garage. “Y’all can keep from yelling again while I’m gone, right?” His eyes cut to Sam again, and then he grinned at me and winked before the door shut behind him.

Sam wheeled around and braced his hand against the frame of the main entrance. I took advantage of the opportunity to study his back, the way the thin cotton of his dark blue T-shirt clung to the tensed muscles. Following the line of his shoulder, I eyed his arms, strong beneath the tanned skin, and tried not to remember the feeling of being held against his firm chest. Even as annoyed as I was with him and his idiotic assumptions about me, being in the same room made my mouth go dry and my heart beat just a little faster. I wanted nothing more than to duck under his arm and run my fingers over the ridges I was certain I’d find on his abs.

I shook my head to clear it. The guy might make me hot and bothered, but it was clear that the feeling wasn’t mutual. His expression of distaste was something I couldn’t ignore, and the fact that he’d judged me based on one night pissed me off.

“Look, maybe I’m out of line—” he began.

I snorted. “You think?”

He ignored me and continued. “But your friend seems like a nice girl, and I hate to see her get taken advantage of. And getting wasted when you’re in a strange place, an hour from home, is a really bad idea. That’s the kind of stuff you pull in high school, not when you’re an adult.”

My eyes narrowed, and a feeling of disappointment along with something akin to jealousy filled my chest. “First of all, you’re not my father. You’re not even my friend. So I couldn’t care less what you think about me or your opinion on what’s a bad idea and what isn’t. Second, Laura’s practically engaged, you know. In case you were thinking you’re making points or whatever with her by yelling at me.”

Sam jerked his head around to look at me, his forehead wrinkled. “What the hell are you talking about? I know about her boyfriend. She told me about him the other night. This has nothing to do with her, other than she must be a saint to put up with someone like you.”

My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. “Fuck you.”

His face went dark again. “You know what? Right back at you. I don’t know why I should care. Not like I’m ever going to see you again.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

The door behind me opened again, and I turned back to the counter, resting my elbows on the edge and bringing my fingertips to my temples so that my hands blocked any view of the jerk on the other side of the room. Boomer slapped my credit card and receipt on the Formica and hunted up a pen.

“Here you go. Vic’s got her around front, and she’s ready to go. Nice little car there. Looks like you’ve taken good care of her.”

“Thank you.” I signed the receipt and pushed it across to Boomer. Keeping my gaze firmly on him, I added, “Taking care of your car is the responsible thing to do. I keep up with maintenance and I don’t drive like a maniac.”

Boomer nodded, though the edges of his eyes crinkled in confusion. “Uhh ... yeah. Well, the keys are in it. If you have any more problems with her, y’all give me a call.” He stuck one grease-tinged hand into the front pocket of his navy blue coveralls and came out with a creased white business card. “Numbers on here, and all our work is guaranteed.”

“Thanks.” I forced a wide smile. “I appreciate it, and you’ve been great, but I’m not planning on being back here again. Ever.”