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At least Old Girl’s engine—maybe that would be her name if she survived to earn one—wasn’t smoking. I’d take that as a win.
I loved Jeeps, and they were all I’d ever owned since I was sixteen, but I wasn’t a Jeep aficionado regarding what was under the hood.
A few seconds later, I heard the sounds of what I hoped was a Good Samaritan parking behind the Jeep. I hustled back to the sidewalk, ensuring whoever it was didn’t try to kidnap my niece, and when the truck’s headlights turned off, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Ryan Rossi? I’d been talking about him with Maria not long ago, and now there he was. Had I conjured him up somehow? Or was my mind playing tricks on me?
Nope, he was real. The man staring back at me from behind the wheel of his F-150 was definitely Ryan.
I casually shrugged and did some weird pageant-hand-wave thing, as if the last time I saw this man wasn’t when he broke up my engagement to his brother.
Ryan exited his truck but remained alongside his black F-150. “What happened to your other Jeep?”
“That’s the first thing you’re going to say to me?” I shot back, and my hands landed defensively at my hips despite the fact my hero tonight was a real one in every sense of the word.
He was still ten feet away, but the sidewalk was illuminated by a nearby streetlamp, allowing me to see Ryan’s lips twitch into a smile.
“How about hi, hello, how are you? Or better yet, are you okay?” I tossed out some suggestions.
Ryan’s smile only stretched as he finally started my way, quietly working his sleeves to his elbows as if preparing to get his hands dirty. “Hi. Hello. How are you?” He angled his head. “Are you okay?” His voice dropped a few octaves with that last question.
Smartass. “I’m shitty.” I sighed, hating how defeated and tired I sounded. “Thank you for asking. Old Girl broke down.” Guess you have a name now, so you can’t die on me.
“Mind if I look under the hood?” He sidestepped me without waiting for an answer while flipping his white ball cap backward. He paused for a moment by the Jeep when he spied Chiara asleep inside. “Maria’s daughter?” he asked before I lost sight of him when he ducked under the hood.
“Yeah, I’m taking my niece to my parents’ tonight.” Where I live now. “My mom didn’t say you were coming home. Your mom usually gives my mom a heads-up when one of her sons is back in town.”
“Why? So you can avoid us?”
“No, I don’t care if I see either of you. My mom’s just protective,” I admitted while checking on Chiara.
“When did you buy this thing?” I was grateful for the switch in conversation.
“Last week. I got a pretty good deal.” Like practically free.
“I can tell. You didn’t have your dad or any friends check it out first?” he barked out in an accusatory tone, head still beneath the hood.
“You remember my dad, right? He knows squat about cars.” And my friends . . . no. At the time, I hadn’t wanted Enzo to know about the purchase. “I didn’t ask anyone.” I swallowed. “What’s wrong with it?”
“A lot,” he said, and when I joined him, he was fidgeting with something. No clue what. “These manifold bolts should have been replaced a long time ago. If they had been, you wouldn’t be in such bad shape. But they weren’t, so you need to replace the exhaust manifold. Plus, a few other things. It’ll probably set you back about fifteen hundred if you find someone who won’t rip you off.” He closed the hood and wiped his greasy hands along the sides of his jeans.
“Fifteen hundred?” I couldn’t hide my shock. And no way could I come up with that kind of money.
“I took care of you for now. You’ll make it to your parents’ tonight, but that’s about as far as this Jeep will get you.” He folded his muscular arms, his eyes laser-focused on me.
Did he still hate me?
And do I hate you?
“Well, thank you for temporarily fixing it.” I turned, prepared to flee the scene, but then I paused and swiveled back to face him. “Are you home-home? Like for good?” I’d heard through the grapevine he’d officially retired a few months ago, but last I knew, he was living in Charleston.
“I’m here for as long as I need to be.” That rumbly tone of his had the hairs on my arms standing beneath my blouse. “Surprising my mom. She doesn’t know I’m back in town.”
“And you’re going to stay with her?” In your old bedroom? Right above the garage? Across from my bedroom? I gulped and felt my skin flush as memories from when Ryan would be home on leave from the Navy working shirtless on cars out in the driveway came flooding back.
I sure as hell hoped my cheeks weren’t pink right now. That he couldn’t read my thoughts. Thoughts about the first time I’d touched myself while imagining it was his hand instead.
He’d been too old for me back then and had already deployed twice at that point. But still, he’d been my crush. Not Anthony.
