9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
J olie had once told Jorie she was a mutant because instead of bawling like most girls when upset or hurt, Jorie got mad—and then she got mean. What was the saying her dad always spouted? Only dogs got mad, people got angry? Or some such bullshit. Well, call her a bitch then, because Jorie was pissed.
She marched to the front of the garage, grabbed a set of keys out of the drop box, and rolled up her bay door just as the first customer of the day pulled up behind the car she’d be changing out the exhaust system on.
It would serve the Curtis brothers right if she left those assholes high and dry. Maybe she’d even leave the bay door open to drive up their heating bill. That would show them. Except it was January, and she was still acclimating to the cold. What she wouldn’t give to be in South Carolina right now.
Jorie wrinkled her nose, refusing to dwell on the ache in her chest. Despite grinding her molars together, tears—stupid and useless—welled in her eyes. It was just the damned cold, she reminded herself. She was not crying over the man… men who were using her to further their agenda.
So what if this was her dream job? No one cared that she thought she’d earned the position based on her mechanical abilities. She guessed all people saw when they looked at her was a means to their own end. According to the dickweed she’d just walked away from—the one she should have kicked in the nuts when he opened his stupid mouth—her breasts weren’t that impressive anyway.
As she beeped the locks and opened the door of the car she was going to service, a guy pulled in behind her, the heat shield on his catalytic converter rattling loudly. It would be an easy fix. He jumped out of his vehicle, a severe look on his face as he shuffled his crabby ass toward her. Here we go again. Lord, why me?
“You must be that new female mechanic I heard the boys hired.” Was that a question? Or was the guy making a statement? Maybe he was just looking for confirmation. Lordy, people were stupid. It was obvious she was female, even if her boobs didn’t meet current standards. Sheesh. She needed to let it go. She was standing in front of a garage wearing the Curtis logo… freezing those tits off. How much more proof did the old sourpuss need?
“Yeah, I’m the new mechanic. What can I do for you?” Her usual friendly demeanor was AWOL. Still, she wasn’t trying to be rude, but her quota of assholes had already been filled for the day—probably the rest of the week too... and it was only Monday.
The man shook his head and hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “I don’t want a woman working on my car. Next thing I know, it’ll run worse than shit, and the warranty won’t cover it.”
Jorie’s mouth popped open as she eyed the car behind him. Based on the make and model, she had serious reservations about any warranty being active twenty years ago, let alone today. In fact, she was pretty sure the beater was older than she was.
“Okay.” She wasn’t going to argue. She slid into the car she’d be working on, adjusted the seat, and put it up on the lift. She walked back toward the man, but instead of addressing him again, she reached out and pressed the button to lower the bay door.
Ezra came barreling toward her. “We need to talk,” he announced just as the side door flew open and the old sourpuss stormed in.
“Hmm, whatever. You have a customer, and I have a job to do… for now.” Jorie turned her back on him, put on her safety glasses, and walked under the car, ready to document the inspection. Once that was done, she gathered the new parts and tools to do the job right. As she was wiring up the old muffler to safely cut the remaining rust-eaten strap, it gave way, showering her head and shoulders with fine particles of rust before it hit the floor with a resounding clunk. Jorie instinctively slammed her eyelids shut and tipped her head forward.
“Don’t move!” Ezra’s shout scared the bejeezus out of her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out from under the car. “Keep your eyes closed.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” she sniped back. “Hey! Put me down.”
“Stop fucking arguing and let me take care of you, Baby.”
“Not your baby, Ezra. I can take care of myself, dammit!” Jorie bucked in his arms, trying to break free.
“Yeah, you are. Now settle down. If you don’t, I’m gonna spank your ass.”
“Oh, try it, caveman. Then we’ll see what happens... and FYI, no woman in the history of the world has ever ‘settled down’ when a dumbass man has told her to,” Jorie sassed.
Ezra adjusted his hold on her as he headed for the locker room. Manny was there to open the door for him.
“Thanks, man. Can you and Tobias close the shop and have a long lunch?”
“Sure thing, boss. Let me grab our coats.” Just from listening, Jorie could tell Manny was probably grinning ear to ear as he slammed the door behind him. Asshole.
Ezra strode through the locker room with heavy steps. He finally set her feet on the floor, making sure to steady her. It was a nice gesture, considering the situation, but it didn’t excuse the false pretenses he and Aaron had used to bring her to Wintervale.
His hand slid over her shoulder and grasped the zipper of her shop coveralls, making quick work of removing them from the top half of her body. He placed his hand at the base of her neck. She shivered as his fingers brushed against her bare skin.
“Bend over.” The dark timber of his voice sent a wave of excitement racing through her veins as images of him pressing into her naked, wet heat flashed through her mind. Jorie had the good sense to balk at the order. She shook her head, trying to move away. Did he think he could hurt her, use her body for his own purposes, and she’d be okay with it?
"Fuck you." She bit out.
“It’s the fucking eyewash station, Jorie. God, are you always this difficult?”
Well, duh.
Ezra took control, pressing his body into her back as he bent her forward. She shrieked as cold water hit her in the face. He held her there until he was convinced all the rust was removed from her skin and around her eyes. When he was done, he let her straighten and handed her a paper towel. Jorie blinked up at him.
“Get in the shower and wash your hair, we’ll talk when you’re done.” Gah. Always barking orders. Jorie thought about arguing just on principle but decided to let discretion be the better part of valor. Besides, she was cold, humiliated, and dripping water everywhere.
She grabbed her regular clothes out of her locker and shuffled into the bathroom. Turning on the shower to warm it up, she stripped out of the rest of her clothes. When steam began to billow out of the tiled space, Jorie stepped under the water. She pulled the shower curtain closed behind her and let the tears she’d been holding back, fall.