Chapter 4 Garrett
GARRETT
Fuck.
Seeing her ass sticking out of the Jag has my brain and body getting some seriously dirty ideas. Like bending her over the hood I just shut and fucking her through it.
Dragging a hand down my face, I try to rein in my thoughts. The last thing she needs is me drooling all over her. She’s going to have to find another way home once Frank shows up with his truck. Speaking of, I glance down the street. We should get off the road until he gets here.
“We can wait over there.” I tip my chin in the direction of the sidewalk.
Unlike the douche who left her at the restaurant’s door, I wait for her to join me before leading her off the road with a hand on her lower back.
A hand I have no right putting on her. Especially when I haven’t reined in my imagination and the heat pouring through her dress into my palm has me wondering how hot her skin is. How hot it would get if I made her come. Shoving those thoughts down, I concentrate on getting us off the road.
Once we’re situated near the building, she turns her head and meets my gaze. “What are we waiting for?”
“Tow.”
She laughs, a soft, rumble of amusement that has my dick twitching in my pants. “AKA a tow truck to tow my car? And where are we towing it?”
“My place.”
Her sculptured eyebrows disappear beneath her hair. “Your place?”
“Yep. My place.”
“Your house?” The confusion is clear on her face and in her voice.
“Yep.”
“But—”
“Got a garage.” It’s not the best explanation but this woman has me tongue-tied. If I’m going to be spending more time around her, I need to fix that. Like her car. I’ll work on both. “I fix up old cars.”
“Ah. Right. I think Olivia mentioned something about that,” she says, her forehead creased with concentration. “Yeah, she said you rebuilt the car Carter drives.”
“I did.”
“So you aren’t a bartender?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, you aren’t, or yes, you are?” The grin on her face says she’s finding our conversation amusing.
“Sorry. Yes, to both. Fix cars. Serve drinks.”
“A man of many talents.”
She has no idea. I’d love to show her all my talents. I scrub those thoughts from my head and focus on a subject I could talk about in my sleep. “Where’d you get the Jag?”
“My ex wanted it when my grandfather died.”
“It was your grandfather’s?”
“Yes. He bought it brand new, I’m the second owner.”
“You didn’t give it to your ex?”
The smile on her face is a little devious. “No. I kept it in my name and because it was in a little dis-repair when Grandpa died, Julian never drove it. The repairs weren’t complete until after he knocked up his secretary.”
“After he…” My gaze snaps in the direction the guy she was with disappeared.
“Oh! Not him. That was Derwent James Cotsworth the third.” A frown mars her pretty face before she mumbles, “His name was the first red flag.”
I watch as she mulls something over in her head before giving it a shake and forcing a smile to her lips.
“So…are you going to fix my car?”
“If you want.”
“Garrett, if you can fix it, I’m more than happy for you to do it.”
“I can.”
“Good.”
A light breeze picks up; it’s not cold but it’s not exactly warm either, and the dress she’s wearing is thin, bares all her arms and most of her legs. “Are you cold?”
“A little. But we shouldn’t be here long, right?” She eyes me with concern. “Did they say how long they’d be?”
“George only works for me. He’ll be here in about”—I check my watch—“five minutes.”
“Okay, I can last that long.”
Without thinking, I wrap an arm around her shoulders and tug her against my side. “I’m big enough to be a wind break.”
“You’re not that big,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t pull away, she burrows closer. “What you are is warm.”
The last word ends on a hum, and the sound vibrates through me, my dick now at full attention. Angling my hips, I hope to hell she doesn’t look down because there is no way I can hide the hard ridge in my pants.
We’re quiet for the next few minutes which lets me concentrate on deflating my cock. Neither of us says a word or even moves. And the rightness of having her against me, of having my arm around her, has me wondering if I should put myself out there and tell her I find her attractive.
I’ve kind of already made a move, and once George gets us back to my place, I’ll have to offer her a place to stay or take her home.
I’d rather the first option.
The idea of her in my house, sleeping in my bed, has my body tightening all over again. It doesn’t help that the wind picks that moment to increase, blowing litter down the street and making her press closer against me.
“I hope the tow truck gets here soon,” she murmurs.
Before I can tell her it will, George’s truck rumbles down the road. “He’s here.”
I should help George, but I can’t bring myself to leave my spot. I don’t want to let go. And she doesn’t seem inclined to move either.
“Wait until he gets the truck in front of the Jag, then you get in the cab out of the cold.”
“Okay.”
“Give me your keys.” I hold out my free hand. When she drops the keyring into my hand, I’m reminded of how out of my league this woman is. The ring is a gold J covered in sparkling white stones. “Are these diamonds?”
She laughs. “No. Crystal. Grandma gave it to Grandpa when he bought the car.”
Damn. It’s as old as the Jag. To someone like me who doesn’t have that kind of family history, the crystal keyring is more precious than the car.
I’ll have to remove it when we get home. Keep the special gift somewhere safe until I’ve finished working on the Jag. “I’ll take good care of it.”
“Of course.”
“Come on, George is hopping out.” I urge her toward the passenger side of the truck. Opening the door, I say, “Jump in. It’ll be warmer out of the wind.”
After making sure she’s settled, I close the door and turn to face the questioning look George is giving me. I don’t bother speaking. Nothing I say will change the fact that I’ve just treated Alexandria differently to every other woman George has seen me with in our decade-long friendship.
“Like that, is it?”
I should have known he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. The only thing I offer is a grunt as I head to the driver’s side of the Jag.
“Okay, okay. No questions.” George chuckles as he grabs a pair of gloves from the toolbox on the back of his truck. When he faces the Jag, he shakes his head with a whistle. “Damn, this thing is mint.”
“Yeah, her grandfather bought it brand new. She got it when he died.”
“These cost a pretty penny back when they were released. Who the hell was her grandfather?”
I shrug. “No idea. She’s one of Livi’s best friends.”
“Ah. Got it. Extra special treatment then.”
He’s not wrong. Except I don’t want to treat her well because of her connection to Livi.
No, the only person who’ll be pleased by treating her better than anyone else is me.