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“What’s so funny?” she inquires.
“I left my phone in the car.”
“Ha-ha,” she mocks me. “That’s funny?” She sounds confused.
I look over at her. “Yes, that’s funny. Considering I never forget my phone. Ever.”
“Hmm, must be old age,” she teases.
I smile at that. “No.” I reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear. “It’s all you. You are extremely distracting.”
“I’m sorry?” She poses it as a question more than apologizing.
“Don’t be. You are the best distraction.” Fighting the urge to pull her into me and kiss the hell out of her, I turn back to my cell phone. “I have to return a few calls. Won’t take me long.” She reaches for the door handle. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you some privacy.”
“I don’t need it. Stay put.” Dialing the office, my assistant, and future sister-in-law, Sawyer, answers. “Hey, Sawyer, it’s Owen. What’s going on?”
“There’s a Parker’s Garage trying to reach you. They said they’re fixing a car for you, and that it’s ready. They have the total.”
“Did they give it an overhaul as I asked?” I ask her.
“New tires, spark plugs, oil change, filters,” she rambles on a long list of things the garage did to Layla’s car.
“Great. Call them back and take care of it. I’m on my way there now.”
“You got it. Also, Jase called and said that he’s still working on getting the numbers together.”
“That’s fine.”
“You feeling okay?” she asks with an unsure laugh.
I glance over at Layla. “Never better,” I tell her.
“All right, Owen Riggins, there is something that you’re not telling me, but you will,” she assures me. She’s not wrong. If anyone can get it out of me, it’s Sawyer or my brothers. “I’m going to call the garage and get that taken care of. You behave.”
“Thank you. I’ll be unavailable the remainder of the day.”
“I’m liking the way this sounds,” she replies, and I hit End on the call and toss my phone back in the cupholder.
“Is everything okay?”
“It is now,” I say, placing my hand back on her knee and pulling out of the lot.
“Sounded important.”
“It was. Very important. Otherwise, my assistant wouldn’t have called.”
“You make your assistant handle your personal life?”
“She gets paid very well for her time. Besides, it’s two phone calls, one to me and one to the garage. Trust me. She’s overly compensated.” I don’t tell her that she’s engaged to my workaholic brother, and that she begs us to give her more to do. She’s bored, despite my brother’s resistance, she wants more work to fill her time while at the office. Royce is working on an after-hours service to contact us, and each of us takes turns being on call. He doesn’t want Sawyer to have to deal with it. Funny, how this is the first assistant he’s ever worried about getting after hours calls. He’s a new man thanks to Sawyer.
“You should hire some more help. I know what it’s like to be overworked. Granted, I bring my overtime all on myself because I need the money, but if she’s doing that a lot, you should get her some help.”
I think about what she’s saying, and that’s when an idea starts to form. “You know what? I just might do that. Now, what sounds good to you?” I ask. “I have one quick stop to make, and then we can grab some food.”
“I’m up for anything.”
“Layla, that’s not what I asked you. Tell me,” I urge her.
“Honestly, Chick-fil-A.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I don’t eat out ever unless you count work, but we get a huge discount. It’s been ages since I’ve eaten there.”
“Chick-fil-A, it is.”
“We could get it to go and go sit on the beach,” she suggests.
“Done.” I point my rental in the direction of the garage, and lucky for me, I remember a Chick-fil-A being nearby as well. It’s not where I had planned to take her, but the light in her eyes when she talks about the simplest of things such as eating fast food, how can I not take her there? Eating with her on the beach is just the icing on the cake.Chapter 6Layla“What are we doing here?” I ask Owen when we pull into Parker’s Garage. “My car isn’t ready yet. It won’t be for a while. I have to get some money together,” I say, feeling the embarrassment of my words sitting on my shoulders.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he says, ignoring my question and climbing out of the car.
I open my door and follow him inside. “Owen.”
“Layla,” he counters. “Do you ever listen to what you’re told?”
“Do you ever ask instead of telling?” I fire back, crossing my arms over my chest.
He sighs. “Frustrating beauty,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Mr. Riggins.” The guy I recognize as the manager who said my car would be okay here until I gathered the money to fix it greets Owen. “We’ve got you all fixed up. Your assistant just called, so we’re all set.”
