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“And how much is that?” Reese asked again anxiously.
“We can talk about that over dinner tonight,” Cash replied as if it wasn’t up for discussion. “When was the last time you had the oil changed in this thing?”
Did he forget their discussion from last night? The one where she said she would think about it? Or the part where she said she didn’t need his help? “I don’t remember agreeing to dinner.”
“Going on a hunger strike?” Cash stuck his head back under the hood of her car. He couldn’t look at her in those tight yoga pants. The little top showed the curve of her breast and showcased her curves just right. His hands itched to touch her. The woman was tormenting him, or she had no clue how sexy she was. Cash reminded himself the best place for his hands right now were on her car. They had an audience, and she was still skittish around him.
Reese fought down the urge to give the hood a little tap. If it happened to fall on his thick head, well, wasn’t that a hazard of the job? “I had the oil changed fifteen hundred miles ago,” she bit out, crossing her arms. She kept her hands to herself, not giving in to the urge.
She ignored the other two traitors trying to look like they were busy. Reese had no doubt they were paying very close attention to Cash and her exchange. Reese smelled a setup. Pappy appeared to be busy inspecting the back of the garage, and Mav half disappeared on a creeper under the car. Both were being suspiciously silent. They were all in this together. Some big man plan to get her out of the house and start dating again.
“As for dinner, it isn’t going to happen. Now if you will excuse me, I need to change my clothes. I have to go find a job so I can pay for the repairs.”
The only acknowledgment she got was a grunt from under the hood.
“Men,” Reese grumbled under her breath as she turned to leave.
“Hey, woman,” Cash called before she made it out of the garage. “My place, seven, and wear something comfortable.”
“Still not interested,” she shot back at him.
“Beautiful,” Cash called again, ignoring her comment.
“What?” Exasperation was apparent in her voice.
“Might want to wipe the kitchen grease off your cheek before you go. Take my truck, so I know you are safe.”
“Fucker,” Reese grumbled as she stomped to the house.
“Heard that.” Cash called over the hoots of laughter filling the garage.
Reese bit her tongue until she was inside the house, away from the testosterone party in her garage. Continuing her stomp up the stairs, she changed quickly before heading to the bathroom to wipe off the grease smudge she must have gotten from the oven.
Cleaning the rest of the house would have to wait until this evening because she certainly wasn’t having dinner with the baboon next door. Just because he said he wanted to take her out didn’t mean the little woman had to fall in line with whatever he wanted. She would have to find a way to get it through his thick skull. It wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. Not any day after that. Not going to happen. If she had to draw him a picture and list the reasons, then she would. Reese sighed. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she knew that wasn’t going to help either.
Taking a final look in the mirror, she nodded in approval. The dark jeans and heeled peep-toe booties highlighted how long her legs are. The pale blue silk tank was lightweight enough to keep her cool while she walked and stylish enough to make her look up to date. She was proud of her secondhand store find, and she picked up for practically nothing. Of course, it helped to be handy with a needle to fix things others couldn’t. One more twirl around with a quick pass of her hairbrush, some mascara, and she was ready to go. Grabbing her purse off the kitchen table, she sailed out the front door and down the driveway.
“Take the truck,” Cash barked.
Reese saluted him with one finger. She could hear his growl from the sidewalk at the end of her drive. Smiling to herself, she walked with a little extra bounce in her step. Even though it was a crappy morning, it was going to be a great afternoon.
“New job here I come.”
Chapter 6
Reese trudged up the driveway, peep-toe booties in one hand and her purse in the other. Her toes were going to blister. They begged for relief almost as much as she wanted to. The job search had gone worse than she had anticipated. She knew she would have a hard time but what she encountered was nothing close to her expectations. All she wanted was to go home and end the nightmare.
Out of all the businesses in town, one place allowed her to apply. It wasn’t actually an application process. The teenager behind the counter at the bakery told her to leave her name and number. The girl never looked up from her phone. Reese wasn’t sure if she was serious or not, but with the reaction from the rest of town, it was her best bet. Her only hope. She wrote her name and number on a post-it and thanked the teen who never looked away from her phone.
She was told they weren’t hiring at the grocery store even though the sign in the window advertised for cashiers. At least that woman had been polite. She claimed she forgot to take the sign down, but the woman hurried Reese out the door before too many of her customers could see them talking.
The rest of the places she went to didn’t even pretend to be polite. Unaware Brecken’s parents owned the drug store or, more accurately, a chain of drug stores, Reese went to apply there too. Being ridiculed for her lack of status had not been on the list of things to do today, but somehow, it managed to make it to the top. Oh, happy day.
The coffee shop owner hid behind the counter, afraid Reese was going to punch her too. She pleaded for Reese to leave, offering her a free coffee if she would go. Stunned at the reaction, she left without the coffee.
The gas station owner asked her to leave before she could ask if they were hiring. Reese hadn’t even made it the entire way in the door before the man told her to go. A grown man twice her size cowered in fear because she stepped inside his business. All Reese could think was it was a good thing there wasn’t a high crime rate in town. These people would never survive living in the city if one black eye got this reaction.
Reese held on to the one tiny sliver of hope someone from the bakery would call. “Great, just fantastic,” she grumbled, letting herself in the house. “My job hopes all hinge on a teenager who was paying more attention to her phone than she was to me.”
