On Her Side

For someone who’d spent most of his childhood slipping out of towns in the middle of the night, his old man running from the cops, creditors or other crooks, his current situation was close to perfect.

“Call first to make sure it’s done,” he said, going back to the oil change. He didn’t want her showing up and giving him grief if the parts didn’t get there in time.

Nodding, her fingers flew over the buttons on her phone. Probably one of those fancy models that did everything but wipe your ass for you. She tossed it back into that huge purse of hers then glanced around. “Which car should I use?”

“For what?”

“For transportation,” she said as if he was the one who needed to be fitted for a straitjacket instead of her. “I’ll need a vehicle to drive while my car is being worked on.”

“Guess you should’ve thought of that before you went all PMS on your headlights.” He put the cap back on the oil pan. “You want something to drive? Try a car rental agency.”

“But I have to be to work in—” she checked the slim, fancy watch on her wrist “—fifteen minutes. Could you at least give me a ride downtown?”

“No.”

“No?” she squeaked as if she’d never heard the word before.

“I’m not a taxi driver. And, thanks to you, I’m already behind on the day’s work.”

“What do you expect me to do?” She slammed her hands on her curvy hips, tugging the top of her dress lower, exposing more of the creamy skin on her chest. He jerked his gaze back to her face. “Walk?”

“I don’t care if you fly. I’m not driving you.”

“B-but…it’s at least two miles from here.”

He considered that. “More like two and a half.”

“I’m in heels,” she snapped.

He shouldn’t feel so much pleasure at finally ruffling her feathers, but what the hell? He was about as far from a saint as you could get. He sure wasn’t above enjoying her discomfort. Not after she’d done nothing but irritate him since walking into his place.

“And you’re down to thirteen minutes,” he pointed out. “You might want to get going.”

She glowered at him. He couldn’t help it. He grinned.

“What,” she asked imperiously, “is so funny?”

“You and that glare.” Two high spots of color appeared on her cheeks but instead of making her look indignant, she just looked cute. Cuter. If that was possible. “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re about as intimidating as a magical fairy.”

“A…fairy?” she repeated, about choking on the word, her arms straight, her hands fisted.

Hoping it would piss her off but good, he winked at her. “Magical fairy. A sparkly one. Floaty. You must get eaten alive in court, huh? Maybe Layne could give you a few lessons on how to be a hard-nosed bitch.”

She lifted her chin. “I will not allow myself to be dragged into some ludicrous argument over fairies—”

“Magical fairies.”

Her mouth flattened. “Or my sister. I will see you Friday.” She whirled on her heel and sashayed away.

He waited until she reached the door before calling out, “Hey, angel?”

She stopped but didn’t turn.

“The next time you feel the need to pound on your car,” he continued, “you might want to think about slashing a tire instead. It would’ve been easier and you would’ve saved yourself a lot of grief and about a thousand bucks.”

Her back went so straight he was surprised her spine didn’t audibly snap. Her head held high, she walked out into the sunshine.

He could’ve sworn he heard her mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “Crap.”

There was no way she’d make it to work in time. Even if she ran—and he couldn’t imagine her so much as jogging in that dress and those heels—she’d still be late.

He shrugged. Not his problem. She wasn’t his problem.

But he still had the strangest urge to call her back, this time to tell her he was messing with her, that he’d drive her into town. Because he wanted to. Contemplating how big of an idiot that would make him, he deliberately went to the back of the garage for a case of oil.

So she had to walk. Big deal. It was only a few miles, the sun was shining and it was still cool enough for a brisk, morning trek to be refreshing instead of sweat inducing. And she had a cell phone. She could always call one of her sisters or a friend to pick her up.

From the moment he’d realized who she was, he’d wanted to get rid of her. And now he had his wish so there was no reason to waste time wondering if he should’ve handled the situation, handled her, differently.

She was out of his hair, out of his personal business, at least until Friday. He’d just be grateful for small favors.

CHAPTER THREE

FIVE MINUTES LATER, Nora shifted her weight from her left foot to her right as she waited on the sidewalk in front of Pizza Junction. She’d grabbed her briefcase and laptop from the backseat of her car before stomping off Griffin’s property.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d looked at her. As if she was an annoying mosquito barely worth the time and effort it would take to swat her away.

What an ass. Her lips tightened. A rude, blatantly antagonistic ass.

Maybe her sisters, her father and pretty much the entire town were right about him. He really was trouble. The kind she’d do best to avoid.

A familiar red Jeep pulled up and stopped in front of her. She opened the passenger side door and climbed in.

“Hey,” she said to her cousin Anthony. “Thanks for getting me.”

“No problem,” Anthony said with a smile that had his dimple winking. “Being without a car sucks.”

“True.” Especially when it was due to your own stubbornness and stupidity. She set her briefcase and laptop case on the floor, then rolled her window down a few inches. Spotting something sparkly in the cup holder, she picked it up. “I always imagined you as more of a dragonfly guy,” she said, holding up the butterfly barrette.

He glanced at it. “Funny.”

She patted his leg. “Don’t be embarrassed. Holding on to a keepsake from your girlfriend is sweet. As long as it’s not underwear. That’s just weird. And pervy.”

“It’s not a keepsake,” he said, his expression hard, his hands strangling the steering wheel.

She blinked at the vehemence in his tone. And then it hit her. Which girlfriend the barrette must’ve belonged to. Jessica.

Damn that girl.