Chapter 8
February
This is a stupid, somewhat reckless idea.
Not to mention, probably unprofessional.
But that’s not going to stop me, apparently. Something in the back of my mind is telling me to help him beyond fixing his van. Maybe it’s Kelly’s insistence that I have a crush on him and to give him a chance.
And if he’s a serial killer playing the long game who will bury me in the mountains where no one will find my body? That’s a consequence I’ll have to live—well, die, I guess—with.
If he were a serial killer, he would have already broken into your apartment and murdered you in your sleep.
I don’t get serial killer vibes from him, anyway.
I knock on Merv's office door, and when he grunts, I walk in. “Whaddaya need, Mikey? Don’t tell me Rob’s already fucked off for the day.”
“No, well, yes, but that’s not why I’m here. Saint’s back and—”
“Baker man, eh? Lucky I didn’t make ya place a bet because you’da lost.” His lips twitch into a smug smirk. He’s been teasing me relentlessly about Saint since November. He’s convinced Saint’s driving all the way down here to see me.
I think it’s outlandish. What’s he doing? Breaking his van on purpose so he has an excuse to bring it to the shop?
As if.
“Yes. Baker man. His van needs a fuel pump, but it’s coming from Spokane, so it won’t be here until next week. He needs to be back in Cupid’s Cove tonight and can’t find a ride—”
“Tell Rob to take him home,” Merv says, a glimmer of mischief in his pale green eyes.
“Uh, no… I don’t think that’s the best idea,” I mumble.
Merv steeples his hands in front of him and leans back in his chair like some sort of cartoon villain. “You want to drive him back?”
“That’s what I was going to suggest, yes. I’ll be back before my shift tomorrow.”
He leans forward and clicks something on his phone before sighing. “I don’t like that you’re leaving me with Rob, but I think this is good for ya. I’ll be sad to lose ya, Mikey. You’re a damn good mechanic.”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “I’m going to be gone for one day, old man. I’m not quitting or anything.”
“We’ll see.”
“What do—”
“Drive safe now. Pack an overnight bag just in case, ya never know what the weather will do. Leave his keys, and I’ll keep them in the safe and away from Rob’s hands.
Don’t want him breakin’ it even more. Go on, now.
I need to make a few calls.” He waves his hands in a dismissal, picking up his phone.
What the fuck?
A little dazed, I set the keys on Merv’s desk and make my way back to Saint in the lobby. He’s typing furiously on his phone when I walk through the door, but his head snaps up as soon as the door clicks shut.
Rob bursts through the front door at the same time. “Mikes, I got your favorite. I don’t know why you like lemon bars so much. Maybe the sourness is why your lips are always pursed.”
“I don’t like lemon bars. And don’t talk about my lips.” I turn my attention to Saint, hoping Rob takes the hint I don’t want to talk to him. “I can give you a ride back to Cupid’s Cove.”
Saint’s brow furrows, and he shakes his head. “Mikey, that’s very kind of you, but I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I’m offering. Merv already gave me the go-ahead.”
“You’re leaving me here by myself?” Rob whines, sounding like a spoiled brat.
“You’ll be fine. Merv’s here, so you’re not alone.”
Rob slumps back in his chair and grumbles something I don’t care about.
“Are you sure, Mikey? I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience than I already have been,” Saint says, tucking a fallen strand of sandy blonde hair behind his ear.
The truth is, I’m not sure. I think if I spend another extended period of time with this man, I’ll simply melt into a puddle.
The rickety boards around my heart, which are already crumbling, will fall completely, and I’ll have to admit I may have feelings for him, and I don’t know what to do with them.
But I can’t leave him stranded here. He’s got to get back to Cupid’s Cove and bake for the festival. I can tell it’s important to him by the earnest tone of his voice.
I give him a reassuring smile. “I’m positive. It’s not an inconvenience to help out a… customer. Let’s go.” Reducing him to just a customer feels wrong, especially after he called me “sweetheart,” and I found myself flirting back. I liked it. Way too much.
Saint gives Rob a nod and follows me through the shop.
“Do you need anything from your van before we go?” I ask as we pass it.
“No, I’m good.”
“You didn’t bring me any baked goods today? Are you feeling okay?”
Saint chuckles. “I was a little preoccupied, an oversight on my part. I’ll supply you with all the baked goods you desire before I send you back home. Uh, are we leaving my keys here?”
“Oh, yes. Merv has them in a safe only Merv and I know the code to.”
Saint dramatically wipes his brow in relief and graces me with a lopsided smile. “Thank you.”
“No problem at all.” Our shoes crunch over the loose gravel in the back parking area as we reach my red and white 1980 Chevy C/K 10 Series pickup. “This is me.”
Saint whistles, impressed. “This is nice, Mikey.”
“Thank you. My dad had it in the garage for ages. He got it at an auction when I was ten and had every intention of teaching me how to work on it, but time was never on our side. When he passed, he left it to me in his will. Merv helped me restore the engine and get it running. Merv’s friend owns a body shop about ten minutes away and helped repaint it.
” I run my hand over the glossy paint job.
It’s not the most practical mode of transportation, I guess, but I don’t care.
I don’t drive much since I usually only frequent the grocery store and work.
Maybe the occasional fast food joint if I’m craving something different than a frozen meal.
That’s a sad life, Mikey Snowe.
I shake off the thought and get in the driver’s seat while Saint folds his massive frame into the passenger side.
I bite my lip to stifle a giggle. The truck’s cab isn’t as small as a sedan would be, but he makes it feel tiny.
The bench seat doesn’t adjust, so he has to spread his legs wide to fit comfortably.
I shouldn't find the man-spreading as hot as I do, but my stomach flutters as the thought of plopping myself in his lap and grinding on his thigh while my fingers run through his hair flits through my mind.
His hair always looks soft and silky. My fingers twitch on the wheel as I picture tangling them in the strands while his beard tickles my cheeks as his lips…
“Are you going to be okay over there the whole drive?” I ask, praying my face isn’t beet red from my wayward thoughts.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m more than good.” He gives me a wide grin, and I’m inclined to believe him because he looks almost giddy.
I turn the key, and the engine rumbles to life.
Every time I hear the sound, grief pinches in my heart.
I worked so hard to get this thing in working order, and it hurts my dad never got to see it run.
I know the first time the engine sputtered to life he would have cheered like a maniac.
He loved this old truck and swore he’d get it up and running again one day.
His full-time job as a field mechanic for a local excavation company kept him busy, so by the time he was home, he was too tired to work on it.
On the weekends he’d take me out and teach me the different aspects of the engine.
He’d show me what spots could be repaired, and what parts needed to be fully replaced.
He waxed poetic about how we’d take it to the coast and have dinner in the bed while watching the sunset over the ocean when we finally got it working.
When he died, I considered selling it, but I couldn’t bring myself to part with the reminder of him. Restoring it was something I did to feel close to him again and make him proud.
One day, I’ll take the truck to the coast. Maybe I’ll take Kelly or go by myself.
Maybe you can take Saint.
I bat the silly idea away.
“So, do I just follow Highway 45?” I turn out of the parking lot and onto the main road. I’ve never been to Cupid’s Cove, but I looked it up to see how far it was.
Just in case I needed to visit for some reason.
“Yeah, pretty much. It’ll lead you up and back down the mountain, and then there’s a turn, but it’s easy to spot.”
“Simple enough. If you want to connect your phone and play some music you’re welcome to.”
“I’d rather spend the two hours or so getting to know you better.”
“What?” I laugh nervously. “Why?”
“I’m going to take full advantage of uninterrupted time with you, Mikey. When else will I get this opportunity?”
“Well, I don’t know, but…” I’m not that interesting. Why would you want to get to know me?
“What if we make it a game?”
“Like, twenty questions?”
“Sort of? I have a rule, though.”
“Okay…”
“Total honesty. No lies. No half-truths. All the nitty gritty details. I want to know all of you, even the parts you might think I don’t.”
I roll to a stop at the light, glancing over to the baker next to me. His hazel eyes are intense and serious as they meet mine.
Stern Daddy Saint isn’t messing around.
I swallow my protest. “Okay. Total honesty.”
What’s the worst that could happen?
We’re halfway to Cupid’s Cove, and I’m starting to wonder if I should have listened to Merv and packed an overnight bag because the sky is moving with thick, dark gray clouds.
The trees were already shading our drive, but now the sun is barely existent.
It feels like it’s almost nighttime already, instead of afternoon.
I don’t want to be stuck in Cupid’s Cove, but mountain roads can be deadly in a storm.
How the hell did Merv predict this? The sky was clear when we left.
Hopefully, the storm passes quickly, and I can make it home tonight.