Page 13 of Second Chances

She interrupted, “I just moved to Beverley this summer.” A long nail tapping against her plump lips spiked his blood pressure. “I’ve seen you, though.” She took a step closer as he did the same. In the intimacy of his office, his skin burned with the heat emanating from her. “The first time I visited Beverley, as a matter of fact. You were reading outside.” With one hand, Henry gripped the rag in his back pocket in a desperate attempt not to reach for her, unsettled by the idea of her noticing him, exactly as he had noticed her.

Unsure of what else to say or do, he cleared his throat one more time. At this rate, she was bound to think he had an underlying medical condition. “I can take a look at your car. It sounds like either the battery or the alternator. Battery I can take care of now, but if it’s the alternator, I’ll have to order one in.” Frustrated with himself, wishing he were more suave, he lifted his ball cap up to swipe at his forehead, studying her. With her radiant, unlined complexion, she was probably at least ten years too young for him, a man in his mid-fifties.

“Oh, I didn’t bring it because I was nervous to drive it.” Henry lifted an eyebrow. “I drove my other car instead.” Henry raised his other eyebrow, and a lilting giggle filled the shop, warmth spreading through him. “I probably sound crazy, right? It’s a Custom S Tempest⁠—”

He couldn’t stop his whistle. Only made for one year, he’d never seen one outside of a classic car show. “That’s a sleek ride. Puts newer muscle cars to shame.” As she blinked her dark, chocolaty eyes, her eyelashes brushed her cheeks.

“It was my dad’s.” She tucked a curl of silky hair behind her ear. “Aside from memories and photographs, it’s the only piece of him I still have. He treasured it, and I want to keep it forever, so I only drive it around town.”

“That’s probably wise. I’d be happy to give it a full exam for you. Make sure everything is in top running order.” Henry poured her a cup of coffee. “Cream or sugar?”

“Both, please.” She accepted the coffee he held out to her. “I hope I’m not putting you out or keeping you from…whatever it is you normally do after closing.” He’d stay here the entire night for her. Or longer, he decided, after she tasted her coffee and closed her eyes. “Mmm, delicious.”

Ducking his head, he grinned. “Thank you. You’re not, you know.” Her eyelids fluttered open, and her brown gaze trapped his blue one. “Keeping me here. I’m usually here until seven, doing my bookkeeping.” Nice, Henry, he thought, now the most intriguing woman he’d ever met would think he was a dullard with no life. The pathetic thing was, she wouldn’t be completely wrong. “You said you just moved here? From where?”

“Sioux City. We don’t have a lot of crime there, but it’s just bigger, and I’m still getting used to people leaving their front doors unlocked here.” Her warm brown eyes studied him from behind her glasses. “Or their auto shops.”

“Yeah, where I grew up, it was even smaller than Beverley, believe it or not.” His eyes held hers, and from the speaker, “Handyman” played, James Taylor filling his office softly. “When do you want to bring your car in?”

Red lips parted slightly. Her tongue peeked out, quickening his pulse in response. “I⁠—”

“Hey, Dad, whose Jeep is out front?” Josh’s voice echoed from the garage, startling Henry and the woman. “You about ready?” he called.

“You know what? I really should be going.” She put her cup down on his desk. “I’ll call tomorrow and make an appointment?” Her dimples flashed in a smile.

“It’s no trouble if you want to just bring the car in,” he assured her. “I’ll check it over myself.”

“Okay, maybe I’ll do that.” Josh’s head peeked into the office, and she said, “Thanks for the coffee, Henry. I’ll see you later.”

“Dad?” Henry watched as the woman walked out, unable to help himself from noticing the swing of her full hips as she did so. “Dad? Who was that?”

Henry shook his head. “I have no idea,” and peered out the garage bay before closing it for the night, just in time to see the woman climb into her Jeep. Envisioning her in the Tempest added even more to her allure, and a need he’d never experienced gripped him as she drove out of sight.

From the steps of Beverley High School, Charlotte sat with Paul, waiting as the floats from the Homecoming Parade circled back to the campus parking lot. School had ended early for the parade, but Charlotte had more on her mind than the Homecoming festivities as Paul remarked, “I can’t believe I’m just finding out now about you and Henry.”

Blushing, she corrected the vice-principal. “There’s no me and Henry.” She’d only brought up her after-school plan to Paul after he mentioned that Henry had just worked on Adam’s vehicle. Nearly insufferable since, the younger man insisted on casting a satisfied grin her way whenever she looked at him.

Paul twirled a whistle on the end of a lanyard. “I don’t know why I never thought about setting you two up. You’d be perfect together.”

Two weeks since Charlotte visited Henry’s shop, and her hormones hadn’t forgotten the electric pull, as evidenced by her erratically beating heart every time she thought about seeing him again. “This isn’t a setup, I’m just taking my car-”

“Mmm-hmm, so you’ve said. Many times.” With the street clear, Charlotte and Paul made their way to the area where the teachers parked. “Say hi to Henry from me.” Paul’s eyes mischievously twinkled over the roof of her car. “Anyway, I’ll see you tonight. Tell Isobel she owes me some popcorn later!” Her daughter, who visited her almost every other week, had become friends with Paul and Adam and was coming for the weekend. The four of them planned to meet up at the football game when the Beverley Spartans took on the Huron Tigers. “And at least a beer at Shorty’s after the game!” Paul called to her as she backed out of her parking spot. With gold and blue signs up in the windows of virtually every business, Spartan fever coursed through the town as she drove to Check Care Auto. Groaning when she encountered a traffic jam on Main Street, she contemplated waiting until tomorrow to take in her Tempest, but anticipated too much the idea of catching Henry alone, something that definitely wouldn’t happen with Isobel at her heels.

Once she arrived at the shop, all garage doors were closed, which made sense in retrospect, since everyone she knew was going to the game later. Dejected, she shifted into reverse and was just backing up when she noticed a light glowing from a side door. Too bright to be only a security light, she recalled Henry mentioning he usually stayed late doing paperwork. Could he still be inside? Afraid to hope, Charlotte parked, got out of her car, and walked to the side door on wobbly legs. Her hand tingled reaching for the doorknob, and apprehension filled her, leaving her torn between turning around or taking a chance on finding Henry inside. Anticipating the same sensual thrill he’d given her the last time, she twisted the knob. Welcomed by another tantalizing smell and “Who’ll Stop the Rain” playing, she followed her senses to Henry’s office, where the door stood open. Swiftly typing on his phone, he was half turned away from her, his impossibly broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his long-sleeved t-shirt all too appealingly. Transfixed, she imagined the feel of his solid strength surrounding her. Blushing, she shook her head, lightly knocking on the door frame before she lost her courage. “Hello?”

Raising his silvery-blond head, he dropped the phone on his desk, immediately rising to his feet. “You’re back.” Was that amazement she heard reverberating in his deep voice?

Be bold, she told herself, trying to quell her anxiety. “Well, my car almost didn’t start this morning,” she laughed, “so I figured it was telling me to take care of it. I’m not always this bad about maintenance. Part of me is paranoid, I guess, that something could be wrong with it that can’t be fixed. It’s more than just a car to me. It represents my parents.” During her pregnancy, when Brady was going to school and working full-time, they’d only had one car. Charlotte, with two part-time jobs: one as a housekeeper at a motel and the other as a cook in the attached restaurant, needed transportation, so her parents shuttled her to and from work in the Tempest. Since the motel was on the other side of Sioux City, the trip took twenty minutes, longer if they stopped by a park on the way home. Early autumn evenings with the three of them eating picnic suppers made by her mom: fried chicken and macaroni salad, ham sandwiches on thick-sliced homemade bread with handheld peach pies, or occasionally just deviled eggs and chocolate chip cookies, crispy on the edges the way her mom knew she preferred. Those were moments she never would’ve had if she hadn’t gotten pregnant and married Brady. Aside from the car being loved by her dad, it signified the time in her life when she’d been the closest to her parents.

Henry nodded. “No matter what car you drive, it needs to be taken care of properly, but especially something that means as much to you as your Custom S Tempest,” he told her, his tone serious, yet sexy…Was this why people found cars to be such a turn-on?

“You remembered I have a Custom S?” Charlotte twisted a curl behind her ear, and she noticed his crystal blue eyes tracking the movement.

“Of course. I also remember you drove a Jeep here, which is special in its own right. But the Custom S, that’s a legend. The nameplate on the body was only available for one year, you know.” He walked around to the front of his desk.

Charlotte laughed, because for her dad, that was all anyone needed to know about the car. “For years, I thought my dad made that up.”

Henry’s hands lifted, settling on his slim hips, his long fingers making her mouth water. So did his smile when he shook his head. “No, not made up. It’s extremely sought after in some circles. It’s a spectacular car.” Longing rushed through her as his smile lifted the corners of his wide mouth and deepened the dimple in his chin; his eyes didn’t waver from hers. “I’m sure it suits you.” Momentarily speechless after the compliment, she struggled to gather her wits, especially since he was the first person in forever to understand about her car. Brady had always complained that the Tempest required too much maintenance, often prodding her to sell it to a collector. “Tell me how your dad got the Custom S.”