The Obsession(36)
“I didn’t call a mechanic.”
“Aren’t you lucky one just came along? And I’d appreciate the hell out of it if you didn’t smack me with that tire iron.” He goose-stepped over, picked up the jack, got to work. “Killed this tire good. You’re going to need a new one. I can order one for you.”
He picked up the lug wrench. “How’d it blow? It doesn’t look worn.”
“A deerit jumped out in front of me. I overcompensated.”
“That’ll happen. Heading home? Just making conversation,” he said when she remained silent. “I can smell the pizza. You’re coming from town, so you’re not staying in town. I haven’t seen you before, and given you’re a serious looker, I’d remember if I had.”
“Yes, I’m going home.”
“New around herebecause I know everybodyheading home on this road. Killer blonde. Are you Naomi?”
She stepped back.
“Settle down.” He said it calmly as he got up to get the spare. “Kevin Banner. He’s rehabbing the old Parkerson place up on Point Bluff for you. Best pals, birth to earth. Well, earth’s a ways off, unless you kill me with that tire iron, but we’ve known each other since before we could walk. You can call him, get my bona fides if it’ll loosen the grip you’ve got on that thing.”
“He never mentioned you.” But her grip did loosen, a little.
“Now that hurts. He was my wingman, I was his best man. I’m Tyler’s godfather. His cousin Mark’s doing your plumbing, and Macie Addamswho I was madly in love with for about six weeks in junior yearis one of your carpenters. Does that clear me?”
“I’ll know when I ask Kevin tomorrow.”
“That’s a cynical and suspicious nature you’ve got. I have to like it.” He tightened the lug nuts on the spare, gave it a testing spin. “That’ll do.”
As he lowered the jack, he looked up at her again. “How tall are you?”
“Five-ten. And a half.”
“You know how to wear it.” He rose, fitted the jack and the tools back in their compartments.
“Do you want me to take the tire with me, order you another?”
“I . . . Yes, actually, that would be great. Thanks.”
“No problem. Hold on a minute.” He took the tire to his truck, got out a bucket of sand, picked up the flare. “Wanna get the other one?”
“You’re prepared.”
“Part of the job.” He doused the flares in the sand, shook his head as Naomi dug in her pockets. “You want to pay me? Give me a slice of that pizza.”
“What? Seriously?”
“That’s Rinaldo’s pizza. I’ve got a weakness.”
“You want a slice of pizza?”
“It doesn’t seem like much to ask after I risked a concussion and possible brain damage to change your tire.”
She opened the door, opened the box. “I don’t have anything to put it on.”
Xander held out a hand. “How about this?”
With a shrug, Naomi set the slice of pizza on his wide palm.
“Thanks for the assist.”
“Thanks for the pizza. You drive safe now.”
She got in, strapped in, watched him saunter awaythat was what he did. Saunter. She eased out of the ditch, bumped back onto the road.
He gave his horn a friendly honk as she drove away.
He sat a moment, getting in a couple bites of pizza so he could drive one-handed. He found it, as always, delicious.
But it didn’t hold a candle to the leggy blonde with suspicious eyes.
Seven
She’d come for peace, quiet, solitude. And ended up with a houseful of people and noise. There were days when even the view didn’t balance it out.
When she asked herself why she hadn’t settled for just the basicslike reliable plumbing and a decent refrigeratorshe couldn’t quite remember the answer.
The house was torn to pieces, full of dustwith the biggest Dumpster known to man sitting in her front yard. After three solid days of rain that made heading out with her camera unappealing, Naomi was ready to throw her things in the car and run.
She bought paint instead.
On the first day of rain, she cleaned and primed the master bedroom walls. On the first night of rain, she studied paint chips, created palettes and schemes with her computer. On the second day, she convinced herself it was just paint, and if she didn’t like it on the wall, she’d just paint it again.
She bought the amount of color Kevin recommended, and semigloss white for the trimalong with rollers, brushes, pans. She forgot a stepladdernext timeso again she borrowed one from the crew.
Dressed in the sweatshirt, jeans, and Yankees fielder’s cap already speckled with primer, she got to work cutting in. Since she couldn’t block out the Skilsaw buzzing, the nail guns thwacking, and the headbanger rock pounding from the first floor, she plugged in her earbuds and painted to her own playlist.