Chapter 31
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
CHANCE
April may need to rent a bigger garage. Especially if business keeps booming like this.
I return after dropping off my fourth car and it seems like there are still new cars showing up at the garage.
“Whoa! It’s Chance McLanely!”
Shouts erupt as fans spot me heading in April’s direction.
I’d intentionally remained out of sight earlier. April needed me to be a driver, not a pro athlete and if I’d stopped to take pictures before getting the task done, she would have been in big trouble.
“Hey.” I flash my practiced smile.
“Can I have a picture?” A skinny guy with a long beard and a beanie rushes over to me.
I peer over his head to look inside the garage. The women seem busy. Rebel is running around frantically, coordinating all the vehicles and April is working on a car. Right now, she’s perched over an open engine, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
“Can you give me a minute, bro?” I ask. “I need to check if April needs me for anything else.”
“Of course. Of course. #ApeChance for life.” He flashes two fists.
That ‘ship name’ sounds even sillier coming from his lips.
Inside, the garage is packed with vehicles. I turn sideways to squeeze past cars that are parked nose to nose. Unfortunately, there’s no path that leads straight to April, so I have to catapult myself over a pickup.
It’s too bad April’s so concentrated on her work that she missed an action-movie moment.
I stop in front of her, admiring the way the baggy work over-alls try—and fail—to hide her figure.
“Tink.”
“Mm?” She bends further into the engine. Her shiny brown hair slithers across her face and she shakes it back.
“Any more cars I need to move right now?”
“Uh…”
Her noncommittal response tells me her mind is one hundred miles away.
“I’m almost finished working on this one,” April mutters, tossing her hair back. “Give me ten more minutes.”
If I were a mad scientist, I’d build a time machine and give her all the time in the world. Since I’m just a regular Joe, all I can offer is a massage, coffee, and possibly a hug.
“Dangit.” April scowls at a car plug and violently wrenches her head to keep her hair away from her face. In direct defiance, her silky-smooth mane falls right back into place.
She gets enough of it and angrily yanks out her hair clip. A swath of chocolate-brown strands get yanked out too.
“Hold on, Tink. Let me,” I say, stepping right up against her and reaching for the clip.
She pulls away. “I can do it myself.”
“Relax, I know my way around a hair tie.”
Her eyes narrow. “Lots of practice?”
“Not the way you’re thinking,” I tell her. “I had shoulder-length, Fabio hair in my high school ‘searching for identity’ phase.”
Her eyes widen and, for the first time since the chaos at the garage began, she smiles. “I can’t imagine that.”
“Don’t try. It’s as hideous as you’d imagine. I’m no Fabio.”
The smile grows.
Her eyes sparkle harder.
Everything around me blinks out of focus as I stare at her.
April’s unique smell of flowers mixed with engine oil fills my nostrils and I take a deep breath. Dangerous territory . I could get drunk on this fragrance alone.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” April whispers, offering the clip to me.
“Hold still.” I gently but firmly guide her head straight and gather all her hair into my grip. Tongue sticking out in concentration, I make one loop with the clip and then another. After that, I half it and secure the base so there’s a bun at the end and a plume of hair sticking up like a feather.
“There.” I turn her around and inspect my work with pride. “You won’t have hair in your face anymore. This held up under three hours of drill training.”
“Thanks,” she says, inspecting the bun with amusement.
Her eyes slowly track past me to the crowd that’s waiting outside. More fans seem to have gathered and they’re staring into the garage. Some even have their phones out.
She gnaws on her bottom lip. “Do they want to complain about the wait too?”
“Uh, no. They want pictures with me.”
Her entire body sags with relief and the desire to hug her wells so strong that my arms ache.
“Pictures are a good idea.” Her voice has a thoughtful note. “Maybe fan service will improve their mood and make them forget the long wait.”
“It probably would.”
“Do you mind?” She gives me a sheepish look.
Doesn’t she know that I’d give her the world if she asked? This is nothing.
“No, I don’t mind. I can even play field hockey with them if you think that’ll help.”
She laughs softly. “There are so many cars out there, we won’t have space for you to play field hockey.”
Oof. If I wasn’t sure before—which I totally was—seeing April smile cements how much I like her.
Rebel’s voice cuts in. “Hey, Mr. Hockey Player! Get away from our star mechanic! She has no time for the likes of you!”
Guilt streaks across April’s face and she hurries back to work.
Outside, the crowd welcomes my return with applause and overlapping compliments. I give each individual my undivided attention.
It’s a strategy that works. Despite the long wait, everyone is all smiles by the time they leave.
I head back into the garage to cool off. After taking what feels like a million photos, my cheeks are aching and I’m pretty sure my bottom lip has a bit of a spasm.
April looks up and back down again quickly. “Was it that exhausting?”
I shake my head. I can’t compare my state to hers. She’s been powering through this crisis like a champ.
A bike bell rings in the distance. A second later, May’s footsteps rush through the building.
“I’m here!” May coos, bringing a bright smile and fresh energy to the frantic garage. “Oh, hey, brother-in-law.”
“Sister-in-law.” I grin. I’ve always liked how clearly May can read a room.
“Don’t start with that,” April warns.
Rebel strides close to us, dabbing at the sweat on her face with a pink handkerchief. “Great, May, you’re here. I need you to type out these order forms and organize these part requests.” She drops a stack of documents into May’s arms. “I’ve been tied up with office work all morning and I’m itching to get my hands dirty.” Rebel pauses. “Metaphorically of course.”
“Ay-ay, captain.” May carries her workload to a desk.
Rebel takes command of a car on the opposite end of the garage, so I sidle close to April.
“Need some help?”
She glances up, eyebrows tightening into a V. She looks so disoriented that, for a second, it seems she doesn’t recognize me. Finally, her eyes clear and she shakes her head. “No, you’ve done enough. Thanks, Chance.”
I’ve been dismissed, but I pretend to miss the social cue.
“I can stick around in case you need more of my transportation services,” I say. “Weren’t you booked for the entire day?”
“Rebel contacted the clients scheduled for this afternoon and rescheduled them for tomorrow, so we’re not expecting any more arrivals. Besides, don’t you want to rest today? You had a big game last night.”
“Max graciously allowed us a morning off. Training isn’t until three.”
Her eyes widen. “You’re still training today?”
“It’s hockey season. There’s no day off.”
She makes another sound from her throat and concentrates on her work. I peer over her shoulder, watching as she fiddles with wires—taping some together, pulling on others, and testing a few with a meter.
April’s eyes pass over me and back to her toolbox. “You’re still here.”
“Do you need something from in there?” I point to the open lid.
She sidesteps me, but it’s a small space and her shoulder ends up brushing my chest. “I got it.”
I watch, fascinated, as she returns with the tool and gets to work on the engine.
“How did you clear the garage out so fast this morning?” I ask. Every time I returned from driving to the mart, she had sent someone on their way.
“We catalogued the vehicles based on the reported issues. That way, we could work on the ones that were a quicker repair.” She brushes a thumb over her nose and leaves a grease streak.
I take a nearby towel. “Really? What’s considered ‘quicker to repair’?”
“Some vehicles only need an oil change. That takes bout twenty to twenty-five minutes… what are you doing?”
“You’ve got something on your face.” I grip her chin and swipe the towel over her nose.
“Aww, so cute!” May yells from across the garage.
“Chance, if you distract April one more time!” Rebel threatens.
I throw both hands up in surrender.
April blushes slightly and almost stumbles as she returns to the car.
I follow her. “If what the vehicle needs is a simple oil change, why did people bring it to you? Was it just to meet you?”
“No. To them, it was an issue that couldn’t be fixed.”
“Huh?”
“Not knowing the answer doesn’t mean the answer isn’t simple.” She wiggles a plug in the engine. “Their mechanic probably changed the fuel regulator but didn’t change the oil. So the vehicle would still have the ‘check engine light’ on, despite having a new fuel reg.”
“Fascinating. A new part wasn’t enough to fix the problem.”
“Right. So, the fuel gets into the oil because of a bad fuel regulator. So then that bad fuel gets into the base of the engine and when the engine is running, it sucks in oil through the PCV valve, which sucks it back into the engine.”
I bob my head like I understand a word she’s saying.
“The PCV circulates unburned fuel mixture back into the engine to protect the atmosphere. If the oil mixes with the fuel because of a bad regulator, then it’ll pass more than the vehicle is designed to handle.”
“And that’s bad, right? That sounds bad.”
She chuckles. “Yes, that’s bad, Chance. Now can you step aside so I can work?”
This time, I can’t pretend to not understand when I’ve been dismissed.
Rounding the garage until I get to May’s workstation, I observe her filing away invoices and logging client names into a database.
She glances up with mischievous eyes. “April chased you away?”
I shrug because admitting defeat isn’t my style.
May stops working for a moment and looks across the bay at her sister. “She wasn’t always like that, you know.”
“Prickly?” I clarify.
“Skittish,” May says.
I look across the garage to April, wishing I could be the calm to her storm.
“You know why I’m so angry with Evan?” May balances her chin on the palm of her hand. “It’s not just because he was a douche canoe who cheated. It’s because him cheating destroyed my sister. April was so confident and sure of herself before that relationship. After…” May blows out a sad breath. “It’s like she’s a different person.”
“Was she friendlier?” I ask, trying to picture a smiley April and failing.
“Not exactly. She was always sarcastic and careful around people, but now it’s really difficult for her to trust anyone. She has this giant wall around herself, but it’s not just to keep people out. It’s, like… like she wants to keep her pain and self-doubts in. ”
“What are you two whispering about over here?” Rebel butts in, peering at May and I with suspicious eyes.
“Nothing!” May chirps and gives me a secret look.
I take out my keys and walk to the door. “How about I work on some lunch for you ladies?”
“I’ll have a triple cheeseburger from Phil’s!” May yells immediately.
“A salad for me. Hold the olives,” Rebel recites before settling on one of the rolling cots and sliding underneath a car.
“And for you?” I ask April.
She doesn’t seem to hear me.
I walk closer and touch her shoulder. “April, I’m getting lunch.”
“Not hungry.”
“You need to eat,” I argue.
“No time,” she grunts.
I narrow my eyes.
She does a quick glance up, sees me glaring, and sighs. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“If begging won’t work, I’ll resort to threats.”
Her lips twitch. “What kind of threats?”
“Either you eat willingly, or I sit you in my lap and feed you myself.”
The blush appears like a dear and expected friend. “I’ll have a burger.”
“Good girl.”
I stroll out of the garage, glad that understanding auto-repair is not a pre-requisite to being April Brooks’ boyfriend.