“I see.” He nods appreciatively and I grab the cables from his hands before treading back to the front of my car. He stands next to me, watching me hook them up and when I finish, he leans forward as if to inspect my work. I cross my arms and he smiles.
“Your car? We kind of need it,” I remind him, pointing toward it impatiently.
“Oh, right.” He springs into action and rushes hurriedly toward it. I smile briefly, observing the way his suit coat hugs the chiseled muscles of his back. I stop myself mid-thought, turning my gaze back to the car.
He pulls his SUV in front of mine and we attach the cables. After several attempts at starting it, we decide it’s a lost cause.
I kick the side of it out of frustration. “This car has almost two hundred thousand miles on it and has been great up until the last six months. What in the hell am I going to do?”
“Is there a Mr. Foley at home you can call?”
“My dad passed away six years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. So no husband either?” he asks.
“No.”
“Boyfriend?” he seems a little too eager.
“If I had another option, I wouldn’t be talking to you.” I open my door, lifting my phone and scrolling for nearby mechanics.
He clears his throat and I do a double take at him. He waves in a grand gesture toward his SUV. “Welcome to the Walsh Wagon of Wonder. Ride in comfort as you sip hot coffee and listen to gentle music while we cruise the carpool lane in style.”
“Did you mess with my car?” I shout.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. Are you that desperate for company? What did you do, cut the transmission line or something?”
“Bethany, please. I don’t know enough about cars to even know thereisa transmission line. I would never do that to you. I’m not that kind of guy.”
What is his problem with my name? “I don’t…”
“You don’t what?” he asks when I stop mid-sentence.
I consider that I’m being paranoid and decide not to tell him I don’t believe him. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll be fine. You can go.”
He motions around the empty garage. “You most certainly will not be fine. Let me give you a ride.”
“No, I’m going to call a tow truck or something.”
He stretches out his right arm to reveal his watch and studies the time. I take note that his watch is on his right wrist, which might mean he’s a lefty or doesn’t follow fashion rules. Judging by the way he dresses and the shine in his shoes, I’m going with lefty. I’m guessing all he owns are suits. He probably sleeps in one.
“It’s late. Why don’t you let me take you home and you can arrange for a tow in the morning when rates are cheaper.”
“Thanks, but…”
“Don’t be stubborn. Please. I can’t leave you alone here. It wouldn’t be right and I’d worry about you. Let me give you a ride home and to work tomorrow. I promise I won’t pressure you about commuting with me. You can get your car fixed while you’re at work and be on your way tomorrow.”
Rolling up the cables from my car, I focus on his words.Get my car fixed.I wonder how much that will cost. I fumble with the cables in my hands for a moment before taking them back to my trunk and closing it.
He stares at me expectantly. I really don’t want to ride with him, but I have no one to help me other than him. This sucks. I don’t like depending on people.
“What do you say?” he asks with a genuine smile.
I slam the hood of my car and wipe my hands on my sweater. “I guess I don’t have another choice.”
He laughs lightly. “You’re going to have to stop flirting with me. I might get the wrong idea.”
