“I know.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Who do you think put them all in the car?”
I arch a brow. “You’re much stronger than you look. But seriously, I don’t want you hurting yourself. You have enough to deal with. Use the car. There’s still plenty of room for whatever groceries you need. It’s got a full tank of gas. The GPS will help you get anywhere you want to go.”
She sits on the couch and waves an arm. “Fine. I don’t think I have the energy to argue about it.”
Despite how much I want to stay down here and talk, I believe she’s given me my cue to leave. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” I look up the stairs. “Ah, dang. The lock. I’ll go get it right now. It won’t take long.”
“Don’t bother,” she says, her eyelids looking heavy.
“It’s no bother. And I promised. I’m a man of my word, Kenna.”
“Yeah, I’m beginning to see that. You’re fixing my car, giving me a place to crash, trusting me with your house and your SUV, and building snowmen with my kid. I think it’s safe to say you aren’t going to slit my throat in the night.”
I laugh. But I don’t tell her I should install it anyway. If for no other reason than it’ll keep me from acting out the fantasy that’s been playing over and over in my head like a movie reel. The one that has me on top of her. Underneath her. Inside of her.
Yeah, I’ll definitely be installing the lock tomorrow.
Chapter Ten
Carter
I look up from the computer when Lincoln comes in from the back, quickly click off the window I was focused on, and pull up the invoice screen.
“Nice to have all the bays full today,” he says.
I glance outside. “It’s the weather. It’s a lot warmer today. No snow.”
“I suppose. I’m not too much of a pussy to admit I was a little freaked out yesterday with the opening of… that place.”
It’s not lost on me how none of us say the actual name of our new arch nemesis competitor.
“It’s only been one day,” I warn. “We’re going to see ramifications, Linc.”
“Yeah, I know.” He stares at the large sign hanging behind the counter listing the rates of some of our services. “Maybe we should lower our prices.”
I shake my head. “After paying ourselves, we’re barely breaking even. It’s not an option.”
“What’ll we do if—”
Mia bursts through the back door with a huge smile. I shoot Lincoln a look that tells him this conversation is over. Of all of us, Mia is the most optimistic about our situation. So I refuse to wallow in it or say anything to bring her down.
“It’s far too early for anyone to be this happy,” I say, sipping my second coffee of the morning.
“Wait until you see what’s out back. I’m definitely winning this month’s pool.”
Lincoln and I both race to the door facing the rear warehouse where we do most of the body work. Beginning lastyear, the four of us put fifty bucks a month into a pool to see who can tow in the best car. Not necessarily the most expensive car, more like the most unique one. Two months ago, I won the pool with a Bently. I’ve also won in the past with a Corvette Stingray, a 1969 Chevy Camaro, and, if you can believe it, a Gremlin.
I plow through the door, not even bothering with a coat. I whistle as I approach the shiny silver Aston Martin, then I cringe when I see the dents and scratches along the driver’s side.
“We’re not certified to fix this,” Lincoln says, turning to Mia. “Doesn’t count.”
“We’re not certified to fix structural damage,” she says with a smirk. “Scratches and dents we can do.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why is this vehicle not drivable?”
She shrugs. “It is. The engine is perfectly fine. After it was sideswiped, the owner didn’t want to be seen driving it in this condition. He dove into the back of a limousine before I even had this thing hooked up.
Lincoln shakes his head. “Entitled fucking millionaires.”
