Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
RILEY
Being a female mechanic is a lonely road, and I spent most of my career friend-less until I met Betty.
Sure, I had a lot of male attention—being the only female in a room full of men means male attention is par for the course. However, I’ve never experienced the kind of sisterhood that the women from The Pink Garage offer.
I clutch my stomach and lean back in my chair, struggling to catch my breath as April concludes her story about mounting a car on four cement blocks.
“You seriously thought cement blocks would hold up a machine that weighs 4000 pounds?” Rebel asks, her blue eyes gleaming to the brim with laughter.
April, a beautiful mechanic with silky brown hair and freckles, raises a hand in defense. “I was in a rush and I’d left my electric jack at home. I didn’t have any other choices.”
“So what happened?” Cordelia asks, tilting her head in April’s direction. “You’re here today, so that means the car didn’t fall on top of you while you were working beneath it.”
“I kid you not, I had just wiggled out from under it to get something from my toolbox when I heard this loud ‘bang’! When I turned around, the cement blocks had crumbled, and the car was sitting flat on the grass. The thought that I could have been under that vehicle when the cement blocks gave in… I’m telling you.
I was so scared I nearly peed my pants.”
Howls of laughter erupt from our table, and I notice patrons glancing our way and smiling, despite having no idea what the joke is.
“Needless to say,” April grins, “from now on, I always have a jack with me to keep the car off the ground.”
“I’m glad that story ended well and that we can laugh about it because it could have gone very differently,” I say, brushing away a tear.
“If it had gone differently, I’d be down a best friend and a business partner.” Rebel tips her bottle in April’s direction.
“And I’d be down a job,” I say.
Cordelia raises her bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”
“Oh, come on, Miss Davenport.” Rebel rolls her eyes. “You would have other opportunities.”
The name ‘Davenport’ rings several, very expensive bells. I shoot to the edge of my seat, staring at the biker chick wrapped in leather.
“Your last name is Davenport? Like the super-rich family with the carpets—”
Rebel tips her head back and groans. “Oh, those carpet commercial jingles are stuck in my brain.”
“That’s you?”
Cordelia shrugs and nods.
I smack a palm against my forehead. “That’s the ‘family business’ you said you used to work at? Way to downplay the truth.”
“It was a family business.”
“A family business worth quadra-bajillions!” I shriek.
“I don’t think ‘quadra-bajillions’ is an accurate measurement of capital,” April says, blinking slowly.
“Isn’t it?” Rebel asks, counting on her fingers. “Million. Billion. Trillion. Quadra-bajillion. Sounds right to me.”
Cordelia cackles and points at each of us. “I think you ladies are officially buzzed.”
“I’m pleasantly numb which is a far way from tipsy, and don’t try to change the subject, Miss Davenport.” I wiggle a finger in her face.
Cordelia juts her chin out. “‘Miss Davenport’ is someone from my old life. Now, I’m just ‘Delia’, a regular resident of Lucky Falls. Rebel is the one with all the power in this town. She owns practically all of downtown.”
“Oh-ho.” Rebel shakes her head but doesn’t deny it.
I sloppily rise to my feet and my chair scrapes the ground.
“Whoa! Whoa!” Delia reaches out to steady me.
However, I find my balance. “I am in the company of the most powerful, wealthy and influential women in town. It’s an honor.”
I bow deeply.
April bursts out laughing.
Rebel smirks.
Cordelia snorts. “I need to introduce you to my mother. She’d love that.”
As I’m about to reclaim my seat, I casually glance around the bar and find someone staring me down. Despite the colorful lights strung along the walls and the warm lamp sconces, it’s still rather dark in The Tipsy Tuna.
I blink and lean forward, peering at the man.
That gorgeous head shape.
Shock pushes me back in my seat and I blink rapidly. The warmth from the girls and from the drinks leaves me in a snap.
What is Nat doing here?
“I love having another female mechanic in Lucky Falls,” April is saying as she grins drowsily. “To Riley!”
Rebel and Delia both lift their drinks. “To Riley.”
I struggle to smile, but my lips won’t make the right formations. Now that I know Nat is here, my entire body is straining to turn and watch him. I wish I had eyes in the back of my head, so I could get one good look.
After he left my office this afternoon, I folded over on my desk and didn’t move a muscle until I heard the mechanics return from lunch. The thought that I had hurt Nat, that I’d made him feel like he’d done something wrong despite being such a great guy—it cut me to the quick.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve only ever wanted Nathan Campbell to be happy.
But it had to be done.
I couldn’t prioritize his happiness at the cost of him, unknowingly and unintentionally, breaking my heart.
“April,” a deep voice says and I look up.
Chance McLanely is standing at our table, looking down at his girlfriend with a rather wild-eyed urgency.
“Chance!” April squeals. Eyes at half-mast and a flush on her face, she lifts her hands to him.
Chance drops his head so April can enclose his neck with her arms and she hangs on him like a monkey, squishing her face against his.
“Oof. How much did you drink, Tink?”
“We were having a welcome party for Riley.” April releases one of her hands to point at me and Chance quickly scoops an arm around her waist to keep her upright.
While everyone at the table is paying attention to Chance and April, I twist my head around, seeking out Nat as naturally as I breathe oxygen.
He’s still looking my way.
My heart slams into my ribs and I turn around so quickly that my head sloshes.
Did he come with his teammates?
Or is he here… because of me?
It would be too arrogant of me to assume that he came to The Tipsy Tuna for a drink because he’s upset about me cutting him off. But I wouldn’t be too disappointed if that was the case…
Again with the delusion, Riley.
I know I shouldn’t give in, but Nat is as irresistible to me now as he was when he lived next door.
Turning slowly, I peek at Nat again.
His entire body is facing this direction. And what a body it is. I lick my lips, visually tracing the lines of his shoulders which look like two mountains on either side of his neck. His arms are the size of boulders but for someone with such obvious strength, he’s incredibly gentle and warm.
Nat looks like he’s sitting on the edge of his seat, like he’s ready to spring up at a moment’s notice and come over. After everything I told him today, after the way I was so cold and practically threw him out on his ear, I want him to.
Even if it’s just as a little sister, I want to be around him. To stare into his green eyes for a second and chat about my day and listen to one of his corny jokes and laugh my head off because he’s especially funny when he’s trying not to be.
While I’m staring longingly at Nat, someone at the table behind us gets up and I see who he came to The Tipsy Tuna with.
It’s like a cold bucket of water came out of nowhere and doused me.
I whip around instantly and tuck my head against my chest.
He’s here with his ex.
Maybe I could have called their meeting at Phil’s Donuts a coincidence or a conversation to clear the air. But what are they doing at The Tipsy Tuna together at night?
I squeeze my glass so hard that I’m afraid it’ll break.
“Let’s get you home, Tink.” Chance McLanely sweeps the rest of the table with an appraising glance. “I’m going to call Kinsey and Renthrow too. You ladies shouldn’t be driving.”
“I’m not driving!” Cordelia exclaims, raising her hand.
“She rides a motorcycle!” April shrieks. “Isn’t she cool, Chance?”
“Very cool, sweetheart. Come on. Let’s go.”
“Bye, April!” Delia waves.
“Love you, bestie!” Rebel presses a hand to her mouth and pulls it back with a loud ‘muah’!
I give a restrained wave, as my stomach churns.
Nat is here with Layla and they look so good together that I think I might throw up.
“Should we call it a night too? This is already past my limit.” With a little laugh, Rebel points at the few mugs around the table. “You can tell that we aren’t great drinkers. We didn’t even have that much.”
When I close my eyes all I see is Layla’s long legs pressed against Nat’s. Her arm draping against his. His green eyes sparkling for her.
“Yeah,” Delia says, “we should probably—”
“Another round,” I blurt.
Both women stop and stare at me.
“What?” Rebel’s eyebrows climb.
I slam both fists on the table. “We’re going to learn how to drink tonight.”