Page 9 of Fall Over You

Yes, I absolutely do, but it’s too late now. I’m not retracting my free five miles of towing thanks to Jake’s nice roadside assistance plan. “No, my friend recommended it. I’ve just never been there.”

For several good reasons.

One is that I can usually do my own car repairs. I change my own oil and do as much routine maintenance as I can myself. Being a trucker right out of high school got me over any fear of getting my hands dirty.

But the main reason is who runs Paint Auto: Tyler Davis and his dad. His dad is a lovely guy, a friendly drunk who I chit chat with often at the American Legion Hall bar in Paint. Tyler, on the other hand is, well, Tyler.

My brain scrambles for a way out of this. I could call my brother, Dustin, and he’d figure out a way to get me the part. But Dusty’s got his own life, and the last thing I want is him thinking his baby sister still needs help.

Even if maybe a teeny tiny part of me does.

But not really. I put on my big girl pants every damn day and do all the things.

The tow driver pulls past the garage and throws his gear shift in reverse to drop my truck down.

Well, here’s hoping Jake’s recommendation can outweigh the hostility Tyler feels toward me.

I muster up my finest charm. I can win Tyler over. After all, there were those couple of times where he might have even liked me a little bit. Nothing like a trip down memory lane to save me. I pull my neckline down and scoop into my bra to lift my boobs by hand. The tow driver gives me a look.

“Mind your business,” I say, blowing a bubble with my gum. “Nothing I can’t fix with my feminine wiles.”

He smirks. “I’m just wondering why I didn’t get your wiles. You know⁠—”

I hold up my hand. “Respectfully, Aster, can it if you want any of the cash in my wallet.”

“Cash is good, but ass is better.”

“My dog bites,” I warn. T-Bone’s never successfully bit a thing in her life except a fly every once in a while. “I could also give you a poke from my knife.”

I carry a knife at all times. A girl’s gotta be prepared, and so many things happen at close range. A man comes for me, I’m ready for him. Might even give him a little smooch before I stab him in the back.

Why does that fantasy feel so comforting?

Aster doesn’t bother asking for a tip and I don’t pretend I’ll give him one. The man lost his privileges.

I smile at the memory of Kenny, who passed and left the farm to me. A man gives you trouble like that, Becca, they deserve everything they got comin’.

My smile is inconveniently timed because that’s right when Tyler looks up to find me at the counter. His face drops into a scowl. “Do any of your clothes cover the body parts they’re supposed to cover?”

“Tyler,” Mr. Davis scolds from the next bay over. “Sorry about him. You know what a grouch he is. That bad attitude’s bad for business.”

Tyler turns his face back down, immersed in his task. I prop my elbows on the till and ring the bell on the counter an obnoxious number of times. He cuts a scathing glance at me. “None of them cover your mouth, so no, they don’t. What’s a lady gotta do to get some help around here?”

Mr. Davis hoots out a laugh and a “got you good!”

Tyler stands straight, poking his tongue into his cheek. “I don’t see any ladies ‘round here.”

I scowl at him and slam the bell three times in succession. “Call me what you want, but you’re gonna fix my truck.”

“Surprised this is the first time you’ve darkened my doorway,” he calls. “Cheating on your usual mechanic?”

I blow and pop a massive bubble gum bubble. I fuckin’ love bubble gum. Keeps my mouth from getting into trouble. “You’re looking at my usual mechanic.”

“Independent woman,” he muses, barely looking at me while he screws a cap back on under the hood.

“And here I thought you said you didn’t see any ladies.”

His lips tighten. I irked him. I adore irking him. “A lady and a woman’s two different things.”