Chapter 2
Tobias
Glancing through the open bay door, I throw up a hand in response to Larry, Wintervale’s only taxi driver, tooting the horn. He doesn’t stop the car until he pulls the passenger side up near the office door.
I shake my head. Larry’s what I would call quirky—not weird or creepy, just different. I’ve known him since I was a kid, and I’ve gotten to know him better since I began doing the maintenance on his taxi over the last three years here at Curtis’s garage. He’s a good man.
Larry hops out from behind the wheel of his taxi and races around the car to get the door for his passenger. Larry’s giving royal treatment? I lean out for a better view, catching a glimpse of a smallish woman with a long sun-streaked ponytail and oversized sweatshirt, lugging something that has her leaning to the side into the office.
Huh. She could be part of the Wheel’s Network TV crew coming in to film the pilot episode scheduled to arrive in a few days, but I thought Ezra said they were bringing RVs and their own vehicles. I shrug. Guess I should go check it out and see if they need my help.
That’s not it at all. I chuckle; I’m nosy as hell.
With the pungent aroma of orange hand soap clinging to my fingers, I amble through the inner door into the office.
“Ah, perfect. Tobes, can you grab the keys to the Wrangler for me?” Jorie, who’s sitting behind the counter, asks softly. She doesn’t even turn to see who’s coming up behind her. Of course, I’m the only one in the shop with her right now, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Just a mechanic.
“Wrangler, got it.”
My gaze skates over our guest standing at the other end of the counter. She’s staring back intently like she knows me. I’m charmed to see a nerdy pair of black plastic-framed glasses perched on her pert nose. Huh, I’ve never had a naughty librarian fantasy.
I shudder as an image of old Ms. Hunter, the town’s fire-breathing librarian, surrounded by her horde of books, pops into my head. She’s the last woman any sane man would fantasize about, but this little hottie? Mm-hm, I might have to do some research to see if the sexy librarian is a thing. I toss her a wink as I turn to grab the keys Jorie requested. I chuckle when the girl’s cheeks pinken.
“Never mind him. He’s a terrible flirt,” Jorie warns.
Placing the keys on the counter, I extend my hand. “Tobias James, and don’t listen to her, she’s a brat.” Well, Ezra’s brat anyway, both literally and figuratively, and I couldn’t be happier for my serious best friend. Jorie keeps him on his toes.
“Neely, ah… James. Nice to meet you.” She blushes again as she slides cool fingers into my hand, giving a half-hearted shake. I get it—I’m a big man, and she doesn’t know me.
“James, huh? When we say, ‘I do,’ you won’t even have to change your name now, will you, Sugar?”
Jorie laughs quietly as Neely squirms beneath my gaze. Those pinkened cheeks turn a mottled red.
“Stop teasing her, Toby. She’s a customer, remember?”
“For now.” I give her a promising smile.
I’m about to ask her a little bit about herself when Ezra and Aaron Curtis—the owners of Curtis Garage—come through the back hallway, giving each other crap like normal.
Manny follows with a couple of bags of take-out. “Thanks for holding the door, asshole.”
“What’cha got there, baby?” Ezra sidles up to Jorie, leaning down to take her lips in a searing kiss. Lucky bastard.
Manny clears his throat. “Uh… food, anyone?”
Jorie pulls away from her man. I glance at our guest and grin. If she blushes any harder, her skin might permanently stay in lobster mode. She’s staring up at the ceiling as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world until Jorie distracts her.
“Isn’t he adorable? Look at his tiny fingers,” Jorie gushes, holding the baby higher for the rest of us to see.
I lean in for a better look. How did I not realize she had a baby in her arms? Something akin to betrayal, anger, and confusion rolls through my head. Nope, not opening that door. The past stays where it belongs—in the past.
“Your husband must be proud.” My tone is almost accusatory. What the hell? I mean, I don’t know the girl, and it isn’t like Neely has been leading me on. I just met her, for God’s sake. If she’d started flirting back, I would have checked her left hand for a ring, and I always, always, ask a woman her marital status before taking my interest further than a drink or dance. I may be a player, but I’m not a poacher, and I fuckin’ despise liars.
“I’m not married.” Neely shifts from foot-to-foot. She stares at her son, then her gaze flicks to me and back to the kid. The fine hairs stand up on the back of my neck, instincts developed from my years as an Army Ranger giving warning. What is she hiding?
“I should go. Maybe I’ll see you around.” She reaches over to take the baby out of Jorie’s arms.
“He’s cute. What’s his name?” Aaron pushes, ignoring the fact that she’s trying to leave. He also ignores the glare I shoot him. His lips twitch when I mouth, “ I saw her first, fucker .”