Chapter 2 – Jensen
Chapter Two
Jensen
I wandered in from the repair bay of my shop to the office section, beelining for the coffeepot.
I was not the best morning person, and everybody who knew me generally tried to avoid me until after lunch or I’d drunk a full pot of coffee, whichever came first.
“Aw, come on. Empty? I’ve only had one cup.” I narrowed my eyes at the coffeepot my office manager Susanna hadn’t filled, as if my glare would cause coffee to magically appear.
Damn it.
Susanna didn’t rate keeping the coffeepot filled high on her to-do list. I didn’t expect her to wait on me, of course. She was here to do the books and deal with customers.
But man, actually drinking coffee rather than willing it to appear would be so much better right now.
Grumbling, I got out the needed items and started a fresh pot.
Maybe I could put up a sign threatening death to anyone who drank this batch. I glared as the machine took an excessively long time—at least fifteen seconds—to start brewing.
“Jensen?” Susanna’s voice called out from the front section where she dealt with customers.
Fuck . I needed at least four more cups of coffee before talking to anyone, including Susanna.
A people person I was not. But coffee at least helped.
“Jensen, is that you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Who else would it be?”
I only hired a few part-timers, young guys who needed the experience. Sometimes even some of the clients staying at Resting Warrior Ranch would have an itch to get their hands dirty, just to do something while they were recovering, and I would let them tinker around with some stuff in the garage.
Business normally slowed down this time of the year anyway. It was mostly just me and Susanna unless something occurred that required more hands, and then I’d call in some part-time help.
“Come here, then,” Susanna hollered from the office.
I didn’t reply, crossing my arms while I waited for the coffee to drip. Not that watching it was going to make it go any faster. Still, coffee first. Susanna could wait.
“Jensen!” she hollered again.
“In a minute!” I shouted back. She was a feisty woman, just a few years younger than me. But since she’d started here, we had forged a brother-sister bickering that mostly amused me, but sometimes, like now, was just annoying.
I wasn’t sure what I’d do without her, though. Dealing with all the ins and outs of the business, not to mention talking all day with the customers, I’d exceed my people quota quickly each day.
As soon as my cup was brewed, I joined her in the office. While the repair bays of the garage were functional and sparse, her space in the office was an explosion of color. Knitted— crocheted ? Hell if I knew the difference—scarves and blanket-things littered the coatrack and hung over the back of her chair.
“What’s that?” she asked as a greeting, pointing a bright-pink pen at a box of muffins.
I almost smiled, forgetting that I’d arranged to have them delivered. “Breakfast,” I replied before taking one.
“Don’t you mean ‘payment’?” She air-quoted the last word with the hand she wasn’t using to tap that pen on the desk.
I shrugged, taking a big bite.
She furrowed her brow. “I came in to open up this morning and found them in an insulated bag at the front door.”
I nodded. Mrs. Kimble had told me she’d drop them off daily this week.
“So,” she continued, “I shouldn’t have been surprised when I was balancing the books and discovered you’d given her a steep discount for her brake drums and rotors.”
I didn’t speak, just ate the muffin.
Susanna raised one thin eyebrow at me.
“Yeah,” I finally forced out since I could tell she wasn’t going to let it go.
“Jensen, you’re giving away too many services!” She slapped her palm on the desk.
“I’m not giving away anything.”
“You discounted that job by seventy percent.”
She narrowed her eyes when I shrugged again.
I wasn’t going to stress out Mrs. Kimble over her brakes. She was a nice older lady who owned a small house down the road. She was a longtime resident of Garnet Bend and her husband had passed away a few months ago, so she was alone except when her son and his family came for visits. She loved to cook, always providing treats for fundraisers and charity events, and her baked goods were amazing.
It would feel like taking advantage of some grandmother if I charged her full price.
“Seemed worth it,” I said. “Plus, these are delicious. If you ate some, you probably wouldn’t be so cranky.”
I knew I was venturing out onto thin ice, but it was deliberate. This wasn’t the first time Susanna had grumbled about my method of bartering and trading, and I doubted it would be the last.
It was just the way I wanted to run things here. I didn’t need the money. I lived well within my means and didn’t have a lot of expenses or debt, so I could offer discounts for my services if I wanted. And bartering was my way of giving back to the community that’d taken me in and embraced me as one of their own.
“We’re barely breaking even this month,” she groused.
Bullshit . I cut her a look.
“Well, we are.”
I tipped my chin at the computer monitor that showed all the spreadsheets I hated to ever look at. “What about the income from the extra bay?”
The Resting Warrior guys and I had added an additional bay area a year ago when we’d done the renovations. That bay wasn’t for cars; it was for my woodworking. I handcrafted small wood pieces like jewelry boxes, sculptures, and animal carvings.
The guys had built it for me as a place to do what I loved the most, but it hadn’t taken long for people to find out about my skills and for orders to start coming in. It was already making money.
She huffed, crossing her arms again. “Okay. With that money, we’re doing fine.”
Exactly. I picked up another muffin. Old Mrs. Kimble was a woman after my heart. She knew blueberry was my favorite.
“But don’t you think it’s a good idea to make sure the main business can stand on its own?”
“Why?” I scowled. “It’s not like I’m going to stop carving stuff.”
In fact, if I followed Cori’s and Emma’s advice—Grant’s and Daniel’s wives came by regularly to talk to Susanna—and put my carvings on social media and a website, I could probably get more orders. But neither Susanna nor I was good with online stuff .
I’d definitely have to find someone who could handle creating the social media and website side of my business if I were truly going to entertain those suggestions.
But I, for sure, didn’t want to do it. To me, social media meant more peopling—something I tried to avoid.
“Reducing prices by seventy percent isn’t a good business strategy.” Susanna was twirling her pen in the air again.
“You might not feel that way if you’d try these muf?—”
My phone rang, cutting off my argument. I saw Chief Garcia’s name on the screen, so I answered in case there’d been a wreck or a breakdown he needed my help for.
“Just FYI, customer incoming,” he told me after we greeted each other. “Her Subaru didn’t want to start when she was leaving the station. It’s important she doesn’t get stranded, so do a full workup if you have time.”
“No problem. Who is it?”
“Out-of-towner.”
Interesting that the police chief was sending me a stranger who should be heading out of town soon, but business was business. “Okay. I’ll look out for her.”
I left Susanna to take another phone call, this one on the garage’s number. She glowered at me as I turned away, letting me know she intended to pick up our argument again later.
The joy.
I took my coffee to the front window, watching for the Subaru that needed my help. Behind me, I heard Susanna talking with someone interested in buying some of my carvings. A grin pulled at my lips as she let out a slight squeak at the massive price they offered.
Small town meant a lot of word-of-mouth business. It also helped that I’d presented some pieces at recent town events so people could see my skill up close .
It took every bit of restraint not to turn around and I-told-you-so Susanna.
I could go pro bono with the mechanic shop if I expanded my woodwork to small furniture items. But I wouldn’t. I liked things the way they were now.
The navy-blue Ascent pulled in, and I studied the vehicle. Looked pretty standard, not that I could tell all problems from a distance.
The owner parked but didn’t get out, so I looked closer. And froze.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this beautiful—and oh-so-serious —woman. Her brows were furrowed as if she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to stay.
Her captivating pink lips mouthed the name of the garage from reading the sign before she sat back and gave an adorable pout. She flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and reached for the door handle.
I couldn’t look away.
I wasn’t immune to lust at first sight. Though my intimate acquaintances were not as frequent as they used to be before moving here, I wasn’t a stranger to sexy women. But none of them ever caught my attention in such a way without my even talking to them. This woman was undeniably beautiful, but more than that, she was compelling .
Feeling this drawn to a woman at first glance had me unsettled, but the second she stepped out of her car and stood, I relaxed.
Yeah, no thanks .
No matter how pretty she was—and her long legs, athletic build, and slender waist just made her more so—she was not my type. She was clearly a city girl, from her business slacks down to her high heels, and I was as small-town as they came. I hadn’t been raised in Garnet Bend, but small-town Iowa made me just as far out of her league.
Her long brown hair had to have been styled in a fancy salon. Her slacks and jacket were the epitome of professional business casual. She practically screamed high-maintenance.; she liked the finer things in life and probably did whatever she had to to avoid getting her hands dirty.
My hands were perpetually dirty.
She reminded me of the wealthy clients I used to work for in the security business. Appearance over substance.
The woman walked toward the front door, and I steeled myself for having to play nice.
But hopefully her engine problem could be fixed quickly. I couldn’t imagine her hanging out in the plastic chairs in the waiting area for very long without throwing a fit. And there wasn’t much in Garnet Bend to keep someone like her entertained.
I opened the door as she rushed in from the cold. She’d left the car running, and I heard its low growl before the door whooshed shut. That wasn’t a good sound.
Then my attention was snatched away by the scent of her as she walked by, mumbling good morning. She smelled delicious. Like vanilla and apples.
Sorry, Mrs. Kimble . All the aftertaste of those blueberry muffins was gone.
“Hello. The police chief told me that you might be able to help me with my car.” Her tone was light and bubbly. It was almost too chipper. It felt forced.
“Yeah. Charlie called.” I held out my hand, wondering why this woman had been talking to the chief in the first place. “Jensen Chambers.”
“Nice to meet you.” She hesitated briefly before shaking my hand.
Evidently, princess didn’t like to be touched by commoners .
“I’m Kenzie Hurst.”
I ignored whatever the heck the tingle was that streaked up my arm from her touch. Bright pink-and-white manicured nails shone as she lowered her hand. Butter-soft skin. Definitely big-city.
“Pull it in, and I’ll take a look.” I pointed at the bay doors and proceeded to enter the garage. After I pressed the button for the garage door to open, I directed her inside the first bay. All the while, I resisted the urge to shake out my hand. Her touch lingered there.
Once she drove into the first bay and got out, she stood off to the side but kept her eyes on my every movement. I walked around, taking a closer look to see if I could figure out the problem by sight alone. Overall, everything looked well maintained.
“I hope it’s nothing major,” she said. “I haven’t had any problems until today. I’m keeping my fingers crossed it’s just a little hiccup and I can be on my way.”
I nodded and stepped over to the side of the engine, which allowed me to glance into the passenger area of the car. It was full of stuff, even the front seat. “Heading on a work trip?”
“Um. Well, no.” Her eyes darted around the garage as she furrowed her brow.
“Traveling for vacation?” Knowing if she planned to drive far might change the prognosis. I’d need to make sure it was roadworthy for a long drive, in that case.
“That’s none of your business.”
I looked over at her, raising my brows at her curt reply. Although, even terse, she was still beautiful.
Forget it, Chambers. She’s not your type.
“I’m sorry. That was rude.” She sighed, and it reminded me of myself before I had my coffee. “I’m just tired. This car thing is unexpected.”
“I’ll need to look it over and probably order some parts. May mean keeping your vehicle overnight. Do you have somewhere you can stay or someone to call?”
It was too windy outside for her to be walking, especially in the fancy shoes she had on. She definitely hadn’t come prepared for the weather around here.
She stared down at the phone in her hand like she couldn’t quite remember how to use it.
“I’m staying at the Haven apartment complex for a little while.”
I knew the place on the other side of town. Wasn’t what I was expecting, but, as she’d said, it was none of my business.
“I could take you to your place.” Susanna walked over to Kenzie. She’d obviously been eavesdropping. She held up an empty coffee thermos. “I’m itching for a refill of the good stuff from Deja Brew anyway.”
I rolled my eyes. Susanna wanted to gossip with her friends just as much as she wanted coffee.
“Susanna’s my office manager,” I told Kenzie. “She can get your information, and I can call you tomorrow with an update.”
I forced myself to turn away as the women left. I needed to get the vehicle fixed and get the city beauty on her way.
Not stand here wondering why I could still feel the warmth from where I’d touched her hand.