“You all right, Rusty?” His voice was deeper now, and it moved right through her, lifting goose bumps on her arms, her bare legs.
Never, not once in her life had a man affected her this way. She didn’t know what to do with it, how to act without making a fool of herself. She had to get the hell out of there, now. “I…ah. I have to go.”
He moved in, bracing one of his hands on the top of her open door, the other on the roof of her truck. “You just got here.”
“Sorry, I uh…”
“It won’t take long. Plus I need a chance to defend my honor.” His hand left the roof and slid around her wrist, gently tugging her from her pickup. The goose bumps got a whole lot worse, and she shivered at the zing of electricity his touch shot through her body.
“Right, fine.” He let go of her wrist, but then placed his hand on her lower back, steering her toward the single door to the side of the big building. The main workshop doors were closed for the night, and she knew once they stepped inside they’d be all on their own.
Rusty didn’t know whether he sensed she was a ball of nerves and was taking pity on her, or hadn’t noticed at all and just wanted to get this over and done with as fast as possible so he could send her on her way. Because he didn’t mess around. He showed her the workshop, the different stations for the different jobs they did. He also showed her several folders full of pictures of cars they’d restored for clients, others he’d found himself and rebuilt to sell.
There were several vehicles in the shop that they were working on, and she took her time checking them out, almost forgetting the man standing behind her. Almost. Her nerves had settled at least. The more he talked about what they did, the more she saw the passion he had for this business. He loved his job as much as she did. The staff he employed wasn’t just there to collect a paycheck every week but because this is what they wanted to do, and it showed in the beautiful cars they produced.
Rusty inspected the Buick in front of her, ran her hand over the smooth hood, and stood back, crossing her arms. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit it… You don’t completely suck.”
His low chuckle slid between her shoulder blades and made her knees a little weak. “That hurt?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She turned to face him, and the belly flutters returned full force when she saw him standing there, legs braced apart, heavily inked arms crossed over that impressive chest—and yep, there it was, the heat. It was back and aimed at her.
“Anything else you want me to show you?” The way he said it made it clear he didn’t just mean an extended tour of his shop.
“I think I’m good.” She turned away and scanned the huge workshop, looking for anything to get them back to business, because no matter how much her body wanted him, her brain wasn’t fully on board.
Anyway, she couldn’t be blamed for her body’s mutiny. The guy was a freak of nature. No one was that hot.
Heading for the rows of tires, wheels, and other car parts they had stacked to one side of the room, she made a show of checking it out, all the while trying to get her racing heart under control, not to mention her overheating body. She bent down between two rows and took a closer look at the parts they kept stocked.
When she felt she had it somewhat together, she brushed off her hands and turned—“Right, I guess I’ll…Oomph.”—and collided with a hard, hot chest.
Big, warm hands settled on her hips, steadying her. “Careful,” he murmured.
“Sorry, I, ah…” Whatever she was about to say got lodged in her throat when the fingers circling either side of her waist gave her a gentle squeeze.
He dipped his chin, looking down at her. “Grease looks good on you, but I like this, too.” His gaze moved over her, from head to toe, then locked with hers. “You dress up nice for anyone in particular?”
Oh God. Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely catch her breath. There was no way he couldn’t see it. His hands were still on her hips, his body almost flush with hers, and when she tried to retreat that grip got tighter, deliciously so, holding her in place, keeping her where he wanted her. “Yes…ah, no…” Goddammit. The man fried her brain, turned her into an illiterate, horny mess.
“Yes or no? Which is it?”
“Uh, yeah? I’m…I’m, ah, going on a date…after.” She cringed inwardly. A date? She didn’t date, hadn’t in years. Yeah, she’d had the odd dinner here and there, but ultimately, she’d left each one of them with the same conclusion: men were jerks. Now she never dated. Ever.
Those pale eyes darkened. “A date?”
“Yep. So I better…” She tried again to take a step back, and again he wasn’t having any of it.
“You and this guy, you serious?”
“Well, we’re…um, well, it’s like…”
“It’s not a difficult question. You are or you aren’t?”
“Aren’t?”
He laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that somehow brought her closer, so close her hard nipples grazed his chest and sent delicious sparks of pleasure down between her thighs.
The laughter cut off abruptly at the contact, and he sucked in a breath. “I’d say, if you have to think about it, it’s not serious. Which means you’re fair game, far as I can see.” Then one of his hands left her hip and went to her hair. “You’ve got fuckin’ amazing hair, but I’m guessing you know that since you’ve left it down. You do that for this date you’re going on?”
