“Here too.”
“Well, stay calm. Just let Heavy work his mechanic magic and sit tight. He’ll get you taken care of, and stay off your phone, so you can reserve what’s left of your battery. Call me when you have an update,” Maisie instructed.
“You got it.” Giselle ended the call, and Heavy’s thick, even footsteps moved closer to her.
There was light from the moon outside illuminating the waiting area, and from where she sat, she caught a glimpse of what Maisie was saying. Heavy had a strong jawline and smooth, almond coated skin. His Grecian nose was perfect for his face shape, and those hooded eyes never wavered from hers as he got closer. He sighed before moving closer to the windows where another set of waiting chairs were lined up. Propping one hand against the wall, he scanned the streets as water flowed like a mini river.
“Looks like we’re going to be here for a minute. Hope you didn’t have plans,” he jested, swiping his hand through the juicy sienna curls resting on top of his head and glancing at her over his shoulder.
There was no inkling of amusement on her face, and for the first time since she walked in, he caught a glimpse of something else behind her big, magnetic coffee brown eyes. Something that had him raking his eyes over her carefully. Still wet from her trek around the corner, she shivered against the breeze blowing through now that the heat had kicked off.
“Follow me. I think I have something you can change into, so you can get out of those wet clothes.” Heavy nodded over his shoulder to the office door a few steps away.
Giselle was hesitant, but she was cold and wet, which was making her uncomfortable as hell, and she didn’t want to get sick. That was the last thing she needed. She didn’t get creep vibes from Heavy, but she didn’t know him. Most of her time was spent around corporate types. Yet she found him intriguing as hell, and it was beginning to rattle her.
“Fine,” she huffed, stomping behind him as he led her into the tidy space.
Unlike the rest of the shop, the office had a fresh coat of paint, and an L-shaped desk tucked in one corner, with a sofa and coffee table in the corner. A large canvas photo of the auto shop from back in the day hung over the leather couch in a chrome frame. A couple of steps away was another door for the private bath. It was big enough for a toilet, sink, shower, built in cabinets for storage, and one of those stackable washer and dryers. Continuing to examine the room, the flick of a lighter gained her attention, and she turned to find Heavy behind the desk, lighting a candle. A warm glow suddenly filled the room, reflecting behind his striking eyes that ran amuck all over her face. The intensity dancing through his gaze as he studied her left her stomach fluttering while that little space between her legs developed its own pulse.
Surprisingly, there was more than one candle, so he lit them all, one by one, and arranged them around the room as Giselle stood there with her teeth chattering. With one of the candles in his hand, he stepped into the bathroom. Propping one of the cabinets open, he retrieved a towel and pulled out the drawer below. Removing a big t-shirt, he tossed it for Giselle to catch.
“Thanks,” she muttered, hugging the folded shirt against her chest.
“You can use the bathroom first. I need to shower and get all this oil off me.” He peered down at himself. “I left a fresh towel for you on the sink, just in case.” He set the candle on the back of the toilet lid.
“Thank you... again.”
“No problem. Take your time.” He backed out of the room, and she slowly closed the door behind her.
There was no denying Giselle was one of the most beautiful women Heavy had ever laid eyes on. She was also fully aware of it, so he wasn’t about to stroke her ego any more than anyone else had. He heard the shower run for a few minutes as he sat behind his desk, rolling a blunt. He didn’t live far and could make it home in his truck, but he thought it would be best to just wait it out here with her since she needed her car fixed. Once he had his Backwood ready to go, he left it on the desk to dry and decided to gather some snacks and a few paper cups so they could have something to eat.
There were some cold cut sandwiches in his office fridge and a veggie tray with dip because he lived off those things. While Giselle got herself together, he arranged a little picnic for them on the coffee table and even copped some chips and candy from the vending machine in the waiting area. He wasn’t sure what she liked, so he got a little of everything.
The shower shut off, and he sparked his blunt before pulling the bottom drawer to his desk out and retrieving the bottle of Don Julio 1942. Since they were stuck, he didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t get faded. It was his way of ending the night when he got home after a long day. Some nights he worked later than intended, so he was always prepared.
Moments later, the door cracked open, and Giselle emerged with his t-shirt practically swallowing her little frame and hanging to her knees. Suddenly the confident woman who walked in seemed a little unsure of herself. Seated behind hisdesk, he took a pull from the blunt and squinted at her through the smoke escaping his mouth. Giselle swung her attention to the arrangement on the coffee table.
“What’s with the gourmet spread?” she teased, moving closer to the table.
“Usually, if I was home, I’d smoke, have a night cap, and something to eat after my shower.”
“Ohh, Lemonheads.” She picked up the little yellow box and examined it with a nostalgic grin. “I used to love these when I was little.”
“You from Southwick?”
“I guess you could say that.” Giselle took a seat on the edge of the couch. “I was six when my daddy moved us to Leawood.” She rested her hands in her lap and peered up as if she was doing math in her head. “I used to come for summers until I was about fifteen or sixteen, but it’s been years now.” She ripped the box open and tucked her legs under her while holding up in a corner of the sofa facing him.
“You want a drink?” Heavy stood, holding a cup for himself that he’d already filled with tequila.
“With the day I’ve had? Absolutely?” She grabbed the cup he held out to her, and Heavy poured the tequila until Giselle held up a hand to stop him.
She brought the rim under her nose and inhaled before taking a sip.
“Mmm, yeah, you can keep those coming.” She licked her lips and looked him over. “So, your name is really Heavy?”
He tittered a bit and stroked his beard. “Just what the streets been calling me since I was a youngin’. My mama named me Huey, and don’t nobody call me that shit.”
“Huey?” Giselle repeated, hiding a smirk. “Okay, Heavy it is.”
