6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
E zra stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to settle the tab, his gaze fixed on the rest of his group laughing uproariously. Well, more accurately, his gaze was fixed on Jorie. Earlier, he’d steeled himself and left the house determined to lock away the crazy feelings he had for her. But it took all of three seconds to see her dressed up for the evening, and just like that, his good intentions turned to dust.
Fuck, she was something. The desire he saw etched across her expressive face when she noticed him approaching? It made him feel like a man—no, the man. And then, of course, he fucked it all up by turning into a pervert.
That hadn’t been his intention, naturally. He didn’t think most people set out to be perverts, but what did he know? His voice had come out rougher than he’d wanted, but because of the tightness in his jeans, he’d barked at Jorie to get in the truck.
He realized his mistake when he saw the dilemma on her face as she spun around, literally jumping to obey him. He’d seen it earlier—her willingness to follow orders—and holy hell, that had only made things worse.
He tried to leash his inner caveman, letting the manners his momma had tried to instill in him come to the forefront. He reached out to steady her, but as she hopped on one foot to give herself a boost, his big hand missed her hip entirely and instead landed on one whole cheek of her ass. What little blood he had left in his head traveled south at mock speed, causing a brief lapse in common sense, and the ever-opportunistic devil between his legs took over.
Seemingly with a mind of their own, his fingers caressed the supple seam of her jeans, warmed by her body’s heat. Realizing his fingers were only a couple of millimeters—a mere layer of clothing—away from nirvana, Ezra squeezed, officially leveling up to pervert status. When he heard her soft moan, he’d been ready to follow her into the backseat. The only thing that stopped him was Aaron asking if everything was okay.
“Now that’s a damned fine addition to your shop,” Chip, one of the town’s old-timers, remarked, snapping Ezra out of his deep thoughts as he stared over at the table where Jorie was pulling on her coat.
“Yeah, she’s one hell of a mechanic.” Ezra scribbled his name on the receipt when the bartender finally returned with his debit card.
“That’s not all I hear she’s good at,” the old man chuckled.
“What do you mean?” Ezra frowned. Jorie hadn’t been in Wintervale long, and most of the time her car just sat in their driveway when she wasn’t working. You’d better believe he noticed.
“Well, from what I hear, she’s willing to give a little extra, if you catch my drift,” Chip said, nudging Ezra with his elbow and letting out a sly, hacking laugh. “Let’s just say, the stories about chrome and tailpipes? Yeah, they’ve been verified.” The old coot had the audacity to wink. “Might be time for me to stop doing my own work and bring my ol’ chassis in for a tune-up.”
“Old man,” Ezra growled, his jaw tight. “If you show up at my shop, I’ll toss your gnarly old ass in the junk pile. That’s after I rip off anything sticking out or dangling. And if I hear you running your mouth again, you won’t like what happens next.”
Chip raised his hands, backing away. “I’m just telling it like it was told to me. No need for violence. I meant no harm.”
“Yeah? And who told you that?” Ezra clenched his fists and leaned toward the old-timer.
“J-just some young fella. Handsome, I guess. A little slick, you know? Seemed to know the girl really well, so I figured he knew what he was talking about.” Chip shrugged.
“Yeah? Well, keep your mouth shut from now on if you don’t have firsthand knowledge. Stop spreading rumors.” Ezra’s patience was running thin. He had zero tolerance for gossip. He’d had enough of that when his parents divorced, when his uncle and mom died together, and even when Kirsty dumped him and ran off with his head mechanic. “It’d be a real shame to lose the few teeth you have left. Are you hearing me?”
“Everything okay?” Jorie asked, her voice cutting through the tension. Ezra hadn’t even noticed her making her way through the crowded bar. The old man nodded quickly and slipped off his barstool. Ezra gave a grunt of satisfaction as Chip avoided making eye contact, hastily scurrying away.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Are you still planning to walk through the market, or are you ready to head home?”
“Well, I was looking forward to walking through the market to pick up a few more gifts and choose a name from the giving tree in the center of the square, but I don’t have to do it tonight if you need to leave.”
“Nah, take your time.” Jorie looked up in surprise, then blushed. Ezra tipped his head toward the door. It had worked with her before when she was hesitating, and what do you know—it worked again. She bolted out like she’d been shot from a cannon.
That was until a rowdy group of people blocked her path to the exit. She stepped to the right to go around, but half-moved toward the bar. She stepped left, only to be blocked again by a shoving match.
Ezra had seen enough. He hurried to position himself between her and the horseplay.
“Move,” he barked. He felt her flinch as he grabbed her hand, but after a moment, she tightened her grip, winding her fingers through his. A few of the guys shot him challenging glances, but it seemed at least a couple of them had some common sense and pulled the troublemakers aside. Once the crowd cleared, Ezra kept a firm hold of Jorie’s hand as he guided her out the door and onto the sidewalk.
“That was some trick.” She smiled up at him, her small, dry hand still in his. It was warm, but not as soft as he’d expected. Then again, she had mechanic’s hands—dry, roughed up, just like his. He glanced down where they were connected, skin to skin. Her blunt nails were unpainted but clean, and though she had delicate bone structure, her grip was surprisingly strong.
Ezra couldn’t remember the last time he’d held hands with a woman. Jorie was a dichotomy of innocence and feisty confidence, and that right there was the allure—the hook she’d sunk deep without even trying. She was a fucking delight to his senses. The fact that he was thinking “delight” should have been a huge red flag.
The desire he thought he’d slaked earlier in the shower flared up again, pulling him back to the imaginary line he’d drawn between his want and his need. God, he wanted her something fierce, but he needed to focus on what was right for his business. Why did he constantly have to remind himself that Jorie was an employee?
“E-Ezra?”
She tugged at her hand still in his. Shit. A hand he was crushing while lost in his thoughts. Hadn’t he just noticed how delicate she was? He loosened his grip but didn’t let go right away. Instead, he rubbed the white lines pinched into her skin until she pulled herself out of his grasp.
“I should only take about an hour. Is that all right?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” he said, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He tipped his head toward the shops, offering her a direction and the permission she seemed to need. “I’ll be here.”
Jorie tipped her head, studying him with a searching look that morphed into a hesitant smile. Then she turned and wandered up the sidewalk toward the first vendor. He watched as she bought a cup of hot cocoa. He also noticed the guy behind the counter light up with obvious pleasure. After a minute or two of conversation, the asshole scribbled something on a slip of paper and handed it to Jorie as she paid for her drink. She was his, damn it! Did he need to have it tattooed on her forehead?
Ezra planted his hands on his hips and dropped his chin to his chest. It was no use. Resisting Jorie’s appeal was a lost cause. He’d known all along he was fighting a battle he didn’t even want to win. Hell, he’d been with Kirsty for years, and never once had he felt this heart-pounding urge to mark her as his. Jorie had turned everything he thought he knew about himself and relationships upside down.
He had to make sure she was protected and safe… and his alone. He was afraid if he didn’t act soon, he’d lose her to someone else. Just like he had with Kirsty. Only this time, he had the feeling he wouldn’t be embarrassed.
He’d be devastated.
With that thought in mind, Ezra straightened his shoulders and marched up the sidewalk, stopping only when he was mere inches behind her. He glared over the top of her head at the man’s obvious attempt to woo her. The dumbass didn’t even look up; he was so engrossed in what Jorie was saying.
Jorie took a step back, bumping into him. Ezra’s hands instinctively gripped her waist, steadying her.
“O-oh, speak of the devil…ah, here you are,” Jorie said, sounding relieved. She was also blushing as she turned in Ezra’s arms. “Thank you for the cocoa.” She called politely over her shoulder as Ezra slung an arm around her and ushered her away.