Chapter Three
Lane
A yawn cracks my jaw as I step down from my pickup. I chug from my stainless steel coffee mug in an attempt to get more caffeine into my system. I haven’t been sleeping for shit the last two nights.
Restlessness has plagued me since I came across the woman with pillow-soft curves and a razor-sharp tongue who literally left me in a cloud of dust with a raging hard-on.
She has haunted my dreams, leaving me harder than hell and hornier than a fucking preteen boy discovering the joys of masturbation.
And just like that boy, I’ve jerked off more times than I can count to the thought of those plump lips wrapped around my hard cock. My head drops back with a groan as I adjust my growing erection. I need to get a fucking grip.
Or more likely get laid. Find a willing woman to sink my dick in and get the sharp-tongued woman out of my head. But just the thought of any other woman has said dick instantly deflating.
Apparently prickly, unattainable women are now what turns me on. The good news is I’ve been so obsessed with thoughts of a woman I met for all of three minutes I haven’t been brooding over my sister’s move to Idaho.
I traded one obsession for another.
Gulping down more coffee, I grab my lunch box and head into the office to get my schedule for the day.
The squat, square, light blue building sits off to the side of a chain-link fenced yard, which holds all the heavy equipment repair trucks for Masterson’s Mobile Repair, where I work as the lead mechanic.
At the back of the yard is a large, dark blue metal shop where we can do repairs inside if needed.
Marnie Masterson is sitting at her desk to the right of the door when I swing it open.
She and her husband, Bill own the company, having started it from the ground up over thirty years ago.
Her short dark hair is threaded with silver streaks, glasses perched on top.
The grooves around her eyes and mouth deepen when she smiles warmly.
“Mornin’ Lane.” Her lips press flat as she studies me. “You look tired sweetheart.”
It’s surprising how well she has mothering down for never having children of her own. Not for lack of trying, according to Bill, but the couple was plagued with fertility issues. They couldn’t afford treatments back in the day and remained childless.
I shrug a shoulder. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”
She humphs at me. “Not letting floozies keep you up all night now, are you?”
A chuckle breaks free at her guess. “No Marnie, floozies are definitely not my problem.”
“Oh good, you’re here.” Bill stands in the doorway of his office, coffee mug in hand.
He rubs his hand across his spreading paunch.
“Got a new hire starting today. Knows their stuff, but is new to the area, so I’m gonna have the two of you team up for the first couple of weeks.
Need to get paperwork done this morning, so we don’t have you scheduled for anything off-site until this afternoon.
You can work on the CAT in the shop while we take care of that.
Maybe you can figure out what’s wrong with the damn thing, because I’ve had my fill of it.
I’ll send Jess out when the paperwork’s in order. ”
“Sounds good. I’ll get on it.”
Bill nods. “Thanks Lane.”
Marnie smirks at me as I turn to leave. “See you later Lane.”
My brows pinch, not entirely sure what the look she’s giving me is for, but too tired to care at the moment. “Later.”
I head back outside, stopping at the service truck I normally drive to grab my dark gray coveralls with Masterson’s Mobile Repair printed on the back and my name on a patch over my left pec. We all wear them over our clothes when crawling around the equipment to fix it.
The lights buzz to life when I switch them on after entering the cavernous shop, bathing the space in a dim glow.
The building is huge, able to fit three large pieces of heavy equipment in at the same time.
The walls are lined with toolboxes and parts.
The scent of grease, motor oil, and diesel linger the air.
It’s warm enough out that I don’t need to start the woodstove tucked into the corner to heat the space. During the winter we have to keep it going twenty-four seven to prevent it from being an icebox in here.
I set my lunchbox on the counter next to the sink before I pull on my coveralls.
I start the coffeemaker and grab the clipboard hanging on the wall.
Bill’s chicken scratch writing on the work order tells me what’s been fixed already and what is still causing problems. After reading through it, I toss it on the counter and dive in.
The rhythm of inspecting connections and parts absorbs me. Time passes without notice. I’m bent over the side of the track with my upper body wedged in between the blade and the hydraulics, attempting to loosen a rusted bolt, when a woman’s voice rings out. “Hello?”
My hand slips on the wrench I’ve got all my weight against. The momentum has my knuckles slamming into the unforgiving steel. “Motherfucker!”
“Hate it when that happens. Need some ice?”
I shove my way out of the machine. “You just happen to have ice?” I ask, shaking my hand and turning toward the woman, only to stop short.
My jaw drops the same as it did when this sexy vixen drove off and left me in the dust on the side of the road.
“What are you doing here?” My face breaks into a wide grin. “Did you track me down?”
She does that snort and rolls her eyes. “Hardly. You have a pretty high opinion of yourself, don’t you?”
I shrug a shoulder, sending her a wink. “Well, when you hear just how amazing you are so often, it’s kind of hard to dispute the facts.”
Her head drops forward with a groan before muttering, “Fuck my life. So much for turning over a new leaf.”
My brows pinch. “What seems to be the problem, darlin’?”
She looks up, eyes narrowed, hands propped on those round hips.
“I’m Jess or Jessa, not darlin’, not sweetheart, baby doll, sugar, or whatever other sexist nickname men give women because they can’t be bothered to differentiate between us.
Now we have that straight, let’s get this show on the road and get to work, or does Bill pay us to stand around flapping our jaws? ”
“Wait, what? You’re Jess?” I sputter, now noticing with her hands at her hips she’s got coveralls on with the arms knotted around her waist.
Fucking Bill not warning me the new hire was a woman.
And not just any woman, but the woman who I can’t stop thinking about. The one who has me wound tighter than a coiled spring under pressure. Now Marnie’s smirk when I left makes more sense.
“That’s what I said. Is that a problem?” She rolls her eyes again. “Of course it is, because there’s no way a female could know anything about engines, right? Let alone know their way around heavy equipment.”
She arches one of those blonde brows at me, crossing her arms over tits I’ve been dreaming about for the last two days.
The black tank top she’s wearing accentuates them spectacularly.
Her hair is plaited into two braids, which lie over her shoulders.
In my fantasies, those golden locks have been loose, splayed beneath her or hanging around us in a curtain.
The braids are giving me other ideas.
Her feet are encased in dark brown steel-toed work boots. The leather’s worn, but well cared for, confirming their years of use.
The woman was sexier than hell in the short skirt and sandals with unbound hair, but dressed like this—like she isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty and knows what the fuck she’s doing when she does—is making me even harder than I’ve been in the time since we last met. Which says a lot.
Especially considering I’m at work for fuck’s sakes.
The loud clearing of her throat has my gaze jerking up. I’m chagrined at having been caught blatantly staring. I better get my shit together if I’m going to turn this around. We need another mechanic to keep up with the workload we’ve been dealing with.
More than that though, I don’t want this woman who has enthralled me without so much as trying to walk away before I have the opportunity to melt her frosty facade.
With the heat she’s igniting in me, it shouldn’t take much for the thaw to happen.
But in order for that to transpire, I have to change her mind about the very wrong impression she has gotten of me.
Fuck, I need to turn this fiasco around and quick before she quits on me before we even get started, because there’s no way I’m letting this woman peel out of my life for a second time.