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Davis cleared his throat and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his grey coveralls. “I…I think that maybe this is a conversation we should have some other time.”
“What?” Charlie snapped, in the mood to argue. Hell, she was chomping at the bit to tell Davis off. Since when did he think he had a right to comment on her private shit? He was her employee. Right here, right now, in this garage that belonged to her, he was her employee not her friend.
“No way, Davis. You started this so let’s finish it.”
“Maybe we should finish this conversation when the person who may or may not be the subject of our conversation isn’t you know, standing over there.”
Charlie reached for the carburetor. Screw it. She needed to let off steam in the worst way. Who cared if Davis had a concussion?
Wait. What?
A polite cough sounded and mouth tight, she stared at her mechanic. If looks could kill, Davis would be dead. He’d be a big lump on the cold concrete floor with his greasy hands and dirty coveralls and three days worth of stubble. He’d be deader than dead. He’d be…
She heard someone scrape boots along concrete—one guess as to who that was. Charlie straightened her shoulders and glanced over to the door that connected the shop part of her business to the storefront.
A man stood there. A tall man with shoulders to die for and thick dark hair that peeked from beneath his black knit beanie. A man with wicked eyes and a killer smile that told her he’d heard most of a conversation that he had no right to hear.
“I knocked but…” A slow grin spread across his face and dammit if her heart didn’t speed up (just a little), and she knew that her cheeks were a bright pink.
Okay, his smile might be killer but it did nothing to improve Charlie’s mood. Scowling, she tossed the carburetor back onto the bench not caring if she’d just screwed up all the work that she’d done.
“What the hell do you want?” she asked rudely.
“I wanted to chat about the Shelby.”
“You said you’d call.”
He paused. “I was going to but then decided that I wanted to see you again.”
His eyes flashed.
Her stomach clenched.
“Who the hell are you exactly?” she asked suddenly.
His smile faded a bit, but the gleam in his eyes sharpened.
“And why are you hanging around all of a sudden?” Did she sound like a bitch? She sure as hell did. Did she care? Not really because for whatever reason, Charlie felt as if she needed to put some distance between herself and this man. And if scaring him off with her attitude did the trick than so be it.
“The name’s Rick,” he answered, that grin back in place.
“Does Rick have a last name?”
Davis snorted but they both ignored him.
“He does.”
“And?”
“It’s privileged information.”
“I’m not surprised.” A heartbeat passed as the two of them stared at each other.
“Take me to this dance on Saturday night.”
“I don’t go out with men I barely know.”
Charlie didn’t think it was possible for his grin to be any more devastating. But oh shit, there it was. More devastating. More sexy. Just…wow. She was irritated. Pissed. Excited. (And she couldn’t lie, just a little bit worked up).
