Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Wyatt
Emily walks across the lot, weaving between stacks of old tires and rusted rims.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve noticed that what she wears on the ranch is pretty much no fuss. She knows what works, and despite anything practical looking sinful on her body without even trying, she spends her days in shorts or workout gear for her morning runs, simple stuff that works.
But today, I can tell that city girl caution has gotten the better of her. She’s swapped the shorts for denim jeans and a loose-fitting flannel shirt that hides just about everything. It’s the first time I really notice a falter in the usual front of self-confidence she wears.
It doesn’t matter.
I still catch a guy in oil-stained overalls stop what he’s doing to watch her walk by. He lingers a second too long on her ass before wiping his hands on a rag and following her slowly into the shop.
“Oh hell no, buddy,” I mutter to myself.
My jaw tightens as my hand clutches the door handle before I even realize I’m moving.
I climb out of the truck and cross the gravel quietly, keeping my distance. I don’t want her to see me. She’d kill me for hovering, especially after I’ve promised her I’d let her go it alone. But I’m not letting some grease monkey get cute with her.
Fuck that.
I reach the heavy door of the office and stop short, standing just out of sight when I hear the low, condescending rumble of voices inside.
“Looky here,” one of them drawls, followed by a chorus of idiots chuckling.
They’re treating her like she’s some lost damsel, talking down to her like she wouldn’t know a tire from a spark plug.
I’m halfway through the doorway, ready to put a boot in someone’s chest, when Emily’s voice cuts through the room. She doesn’t raise it, but it’s cold enough to sting.
“Before you finish that sentence,” she says, “you might want to look at that frayed hoist cable over there. Not to mention the ungrounded electrical tap behind your register.”
There’s a stunned silence.
I freeze, a smirk pulling at my mouth.
“Now,” she continues, her tone like a razor, “get me the front left strut assembly for a 2023 Mini…part numbers here.” She taps the screen on her phone. “And I’ll be on my way. Unless you’d prefer I call the OSHA inspector on my way out for a full rundown?”
I back away from the door, leaning against the corrugated metal wall outside. I pull my hat lower, hiding the grin that’s plastered across my face. She handled them alright, she fucking dismantled them.
Jesus. I’m fucking proud of her.
A few minutes later, the bell jingles and Emily marches out, the heavy part boxed up in her arms. She stops dead when she sees me lounging against the wall, looking like I’ve been there the whole time.
She narrows her eyes, her chest heaving slightly from the adrenaline. “I told you I didn’t need help.”
I push off the wall, reaching out to take the heavy box from her. “I can see that,” I say, a smirk playing on my lips.
I place the box in the trunk and join her in the cab. Pulling the door with a slam behind me, I sit there in silence for a second.
We stare at one another, and before I can stop it, a laugh rumbles up from my chest. Now we’re both laughing.
She’s laughing so hard her shoulders are shaking.
“The electrical tap?” I choke out, wiping a hand across my face. “Emily, I thought that kid was gonna pass out when you started quoting code at him. You had him shaking in his boots.”
She’s still laughing, her head tilted back, and for a moment, I’m taken back to the days we spent as kids, laughing at each other until our cheeks hurt.
“He was an idiot,” she says, breathless. “He thought because I had a ponytail and a handbag, I didn’t know how to read a safety manual. Even got a ten percent discount out of him.” She beams proudly.
The laughter dies down, leaving a warmth in the truck that I haven’t felt in a long time. I shift in my seat, turning to face her.
It’s time to stop being a dick.
“Look…I really am sorry. About the bar and about following you in there. You can handle yourself. I get that now.”
She looks down at her lap, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thank you. I know I can. My dad made sure of that. He told me that if I was going to be a woman in a man’s world, I’d better be the smartest person in the room so I could always be one step ahead.”
I look at her proudly, appreciating the woman he made her out to be. “He did a real good job, Em,” I say, and for the first time, the words don’t feel like they’re being pulled out of my mouth with a pair of pliers.
I watch her for a second, the way the flush in her cheeks starts to subside now that the adrenaline has worn off. But the weird sense of pride I was feeling has been soured by a simmering burn of irritation.
“What?” she asks, sensing the shift in my expression, her smile faltering a little. “I thought we were having a sentimental moment there, Wyatt. Don’t tell me you’ve recovered the scowl already.”
“It’s…It’s not you,” I mutter, reaching to put my keys in the ignition.
I don’t turn the truck on yet, but I let my head fall back against the headrest, looking out at the auto shop through the windshield.
“It just…pisses me off that you can’t just go in there and buy a car part without being harassed.
Or that you have to walk into a room and be three times as smart as everyone just to get the baseline of respect I get just by standing there. ”
Her fingers pick at a piece of invisible lint on her jeans. I already know I’ve said too much.
“It’s just how it is, Wyatt. I’m used to it.” She shrugs.
“Yeah…well, I’m not,” I snap, the harshness even catching me off guard.
I’m not mad at her. I’m mad at the fact that I’ve spent the last few weeks being an asshole to her when the rest of the world is already doing a pretty good job of that. I hate that I’ve been one more man she has to handle.
“Wyatt…honestly, it’s fine. I appreciate you being there for me today,” she says reassuringly, sensing my unease.
It boils my blood that this is what she’s been subjected to for most of her life.
I cut her a look, my jaw tightens. I hate that she’s the one reassuring me when she just got treated like dirt by a pack of idiots. I finally fire up the engine and shift it into reverse.
I feel her watching me as I pull out of the lot with a curious look on her face, as though she still can’t quite figure me out. That makes two of us because I don’t know how the fuck I feel right now.
I’m completely torn between wanting to pull her across that console to kiss her senseless and the terrifying realization that I’ve never been more out of my league.