Both of them looked her up and down, the man with more interest than the woman, who quickly gave him an elbow to the ribs. The woman glanced at Rusty’s truck behind her. “Is something wrong with your car?” she asked.
“Nothing major.”I hope.The last thing she needed was a huge repair bill. “Now, let’s talk about this jewel of a property. Isn’t it an absolutely perfect place to build your retirement dream home?”
***
Rusty sat in the cab of his truck, cool air blasting through the AC vents and muted classic rock playing through the scratchy radio speakers. He’d set the volume on low, but he could still hear the Eagles singing “Desperado”as Harper led the couple to the field on the opposite side of the road, the grass dry and brown from the hot sun.
He was surprised she hadn’t wanted him to hook upher Mercedes to the tow lift right away. Anita and Tanner’s wedding started in less than two hours, and they had invited him. He glanced down at his navy-blue dress pants. When Harper called, he’d been halfway done putting on his fancy clothes. But an emergency was an emergency, and this wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to stop what he was doing to tow someone. He’d thrown on his work shirt, jumped in the truck, and come here. Hopefully whatever Harper was doing wouldn’t take long. He didn’t like being late.
Rusty glanced at her again. Judging by her sleek, form-fitting dress, her high-heeled gold shoes, and her blond hair piled high on her head, she was going to the wedding too. He reckoned she might be in the wedding party since she and Anita were good friends. Or maybe it was just another day for Harper Wilson. She was always dressed fancy.
“Desperado” faded into Journey’s“Faithfully,” and he leaned back against the seat. He’d gotten to know Harper somewhat over the past year since her Mercedes had started giving her—and him—fits. Although he’d been working on cars and trucks in some capacity since he was a kid, his grandfather, Russell Jenkins Sr.—“Senior” to everyone who knew him—the first owner of Rusty’s Garage, had rarely tackled foreign automobiles. But Rusty liked a challenge, and he wasn’t about to let the Merc get the best of him. Besides, it cost a pretty penny to tow the car to the nearest Mercedes dealer in Little Rock, and he liked to save his customers an extra expense if he could.
He continued to watch Harper and the couple as they talked. The sun beat down through his driver-side window, and the outside-temp gauge on his dash read ninety-fivedegrees. With the humidity it felt hotter than that. But Harper looked as cool as a fall day, seemingly unaffected by the heat. A few minutes ago had been the first time he’d see her flustered, or even sweat. She was gorgeous and elegant, he had to admit. Miles out of his league. Or she would be if he was interested in her that way.
He wasn’t dumb, though, and he knew better than to even open his mind to the idea. Harper was sheer class. Rusty was a grease monkey who lived for working on cars. They existed in two different universes that only collided because her Merc was probably a lemon—although he wasn’t going to tell her that. Not until he tried everything he could to fix it.
As the minutes continued to pass, he grew a little concerned. He considered exiting the truck and insisting she and her clients quit their discussion before they ended up with heatstroke.
Finally the couple got into their car, and Harper hurried to his truck. How she walked so quickly in those heels, he’d never know, but she had a wide smile on her face when she opened the passenger door.
“Yes!” she said, pumping her fist before she sat down on the towel he’d laid out for her. His tow truck was old but in good condition, and he tried to keep it as clean as possible. But there were a few coffee spots on the seat, and he hadn’t wanted her to sit on stained upholstery.
“Good news?” he asked as he waited for the sedan to turn around and pass.
“Absolutely.” Her cheeks and the tops of her shoulders were bright red. “They’re ready to sign the contract on Monday!”
“Congratulations.” The gray sedan passed by, and Harper waved.
“Lord knows I needed this sale.” She leaned against the back of the seat and closed her eyes.
He didn’t have a clue about real estate, but he did know how to run a business. From her comment, it sounded like she might be in a lean time. Fortunately, lean times were few and far between for his garage.
Rusty turned the truck around and headed for her car. When they reached the Mercedes, he hopped out and went to work hooking it up while Harper retrieved her bag from the driver’s seat. She waited in the tow truck’s air-conditioned cab until he finished.
A few minutes later, sweat poured down his back and over his face as he hooked up the last chain. Today was a scorcher. He jumped inside the cab. “Mind if I turn this up?” He pointed to the air conditioner.
“Please do.”
He turned the knob to full blast and let the cold air hit him.Ahhh.
“Here.” Harper held out the roll of paper towels for him. He grabbed it, tore off one, and wiped his face. “Thanks.”
But her attention was focused on her phone screen. He put his truck in gear and took off. “Want me to drop you off at the church?” he asked.
“Hmm, what?”
“The weddin’s startin’ in about an hour.”
She stopped typing, then gasped. “I didn’t realize the time! I’m going to be late!”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He accelerated as fast as hesafely could and headed for Amazing Grace Church while Harper yanked a mirror and a glittery bag out of that huge purse of hers.
“The Lattes are going to kill me for this,” she muttered.
He glanced at her. “The who?”
“Lattes. It’s the temporary name of our little group of friends. Me, Anita, Riley, and Olivia.” She pulled out a small, red-tipped wand of lipstick and smoothed it over her lips. “If I’m late, Olivia will never let me forget it.”
