Chapter One
Wednesday Afternoon
“Twenty-five hundred dollars?” Bella’s lips whispered over the words. Her throat closed and nausea rolled through her belly. If she said anything, her small breakfast of toast and coffee would be all over the garage floor. Given the oil and gasoline stains, they may not even notice.
She supposed it could be the fumes making her lightheaded. She wasn’t used to such strong, bitter smells.
“Close,” he said, looking down at his clipboard. “Twenty-five hundred, sixty-seven dollars …” He looked up again, giving a benign smile. “And thirty-nine cents.”
Bella met his gaze. Travis Montgomery. He was gorgeous as ever. His midnight eyes held no hint of emotion, but sarcasm dripped from his lips.
Tattoos traveled his arms and disappeared under his shirt, drifting up the sides of his neck. Black hair brushed his collar and was so dark that in the right light, one would swear it shown blue. He was tall, lean-hipped, and she’d wondered for years what his rough mechanic’s hands would feel like on her skin.
She’d had a secret crush on him since she was in high school. Whenever she’d see him around their small town, or out on the lake she was always aware of him. But they were from two different worlds and he wasn't what her family had planned for her.
“I …” She stared at him, unblinking. “I don’t have that kind of money anymore,” she said, squaring her shoulders. Thanks again, Artie, she thought. Humility was her new best friend, but in front of Travis? The guy she’d snubbed more than once years ago. She had to admit it was a new level of embarrassment she wasn’t exactly comfortable with.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks, but she was stubborn and wouldn’t look away. She wanted to get out of there, run as far as she could, but there was nowhere to go, no place for her to hide. And thanks to the transmission in her car, no way for her to get anywhere. She swallowed past the queasiness.
“That’s as low as I can go, Bella.” But as he said the words, his gaze slid down the front of her body to settle at the V between her thighs.
Bella sighed, but didn’t take offense at his blatant suggestion. Once upon a time … Except, she didn’t, hadn’t.
“That low or going lower or raising the number doesn’t matter. Not even the sixty-seven. At least for a couple weeks.” She was proud of the fact that her voice didn’t shake. “It’s possible you could find thirty-nine cents in the seats.” He was sexier than a man ought to be, but she wouldn’t let that distract her. “Can you hold the car for a little while? Maybe until the end of the week?”
“It doesn’t have to be cash. I take all major credit cards.”
“Really?” She didn’t roll her eyes, but the sarcasm in her tone couldn’t be mistaken and matched his from earlier. “Travis …” This wasn’t the first time she’d come up against this argument. “I don’t use credit cards anymore.”
“And I don’t hold cars for anyone. As you can see, the lot is pretty small,” he observed, looking over her shoulder out the bay door. “I don’t want legit customers thinking I can’t take care of them because there’s a fancy piece sittin’ out front.”
She ignored his emphasis on the word “piece” and fought the strong, sudden urge to kick him. Instead, she turned her head and followed his line of sight.
The front of the garage had a small parking area, but Bella also knew there was room out back. “It’s a Cadillac. People drive them all the time. Please, Travis. The end of the week. That’s all. I get paid on Friday.”
Please had become the most-used word in her vocabulary lately. She’d always used it, along with thank you, excuse me, yes ma’am and no sir, but they had all taken on whole new meanings since she was no longer an heiress living in a mansion.
Their gazes locked again, and he didn’t seem moved by her plea.
“It was all I could do to get it here this morning. It kept dying anytime I got it over forty. I don’t have any way to get it back to the lake or anywhere else to keep it.”
He heaved a sigh. “Until Friday at closing. Not a day later.”
Relief swamped her, and she smiled. “Friday. Yes. Thank you, Travis. Thank you.” It was a small battle, but she’d won. “I have to get to the flower shop now, but I’ll be in touch Friday when I get off work.” She spun on her heel, heart thumping wildly in her chest at the victory. Of course, her mind whirled with the fact that it would take longer than two days to get the money, but one step at a time.
“Do you need a ride?”
His voice stopped her forward progress. She was thankful that she didn’t stumble over herself.
Lust flooded her body, but Bella masked her reaction before facing him again. Oh yes, she’d love a ride. A long, hard, naked ride. On him. He hadn’t moved closer, but heat flared between them. Maybe he wasn’t as indifferent as he’d have her believe. “No. I walked here. I can walk back. I don’t want to owe you more than I already do.”
Travis shrugged. “Suit yourself. Have a good day.”
She nodded. She didn’t believe his uncaring, all-business tone for a second. The spark she’d felt was real, but if he could pretend it didn’t exist, she could too.
Stepping outside the dim interior of the garage, the bright sun blinded her. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes and by the time she reached Main Street, she was able to see without squinting.
A sense of home and belonging filled her. She couldn’t remember loving this little town when she was a kid. What she could remember was not being able to get out fast enough. Even though she and her friends ran around unchecked, none of them ever planned to stay or return.
But life changed overnight, then changed again, and she couldn’t wait to get back. She couldn’t wait to walk down the street safe, smiling and looking people in the eye.
The crepe myrtles were in bloom along the sidewalk. The ice cream shop would have its door open all summer. And the farm stand would offer fresh fruits and vegetables, honey and jams.
Everything she’d never appreciated while growing up here …
The transmission issues weren’t her first hurdles; they were only the latest. Her brother’s arrest on white-collar crime charges had been the start of her life as it was now. Despite the years he’d worked for and with their father, it seemed Arthur Drake, III believed the rules didn’t apply to him.
Ten years, eight months and twelve days younger than Artie, Bella was the accidental child. Their parents doted on her and heaped all the expectations for the continued success of the family business on Artie’s shoulders. She’d felt bad, and even asked him to let her help with the business after she graduated from college. And he’d always pat her on the head and tell her not to worry about it.
She worried about it now, though. He made sure of that.
Everything she’d known and loved as a child, was gone—sold or auctioned off. She had an Ivy League education, but that didn’t do her any good in her hometown. Her degree and family name had helped her land a job with a boutique design firm in Nashville. All the work was hers and it had been the greatest feeling. A strange freedom. At her brother’s urging, she’d invested a small sum in the family firm. She’d lost it, too. Artie and his partner had left many of their clients without a cent. Lucky for her, she’d kept some in a local Nashville credit union. There was also a trust fund left to her by their grandmother, but she couldn’t get to it. Yet. Too many stipulations and red tape.
The striped awning of the flower shop came into view. She took a deep breath and smiled, as she unlocked the door. The sweet scent of flowers greeted her as she walked in. It was a far cry from the scents she’d encountered at Travis’ garage.
Her fancy Wellesley education hadn’t included flower arranging, but growing up in Southern high society, had. She could also play the piano with her eyes closed. Write thank you notes in three languages. Dance around a ballroom. Arrange place setting with enough silver for the diner to need a road map. And, of course, she could flash plastic with the best of them. Debutante balls, cotillions and parties of all sizes were on her list of abilities, as well.
But her expertise those areas weren’t wanted or needed anymore. After college, she found she liked working and helping people. Yes, the interiors she designed were often for the rich and sometimes famous, but she gave them what made them happy.
What she didn’t like was owing Travis.
Okay, well, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d rather owe him pleasure and fun instead of money.
There was something else she had to figure out—how was she going to get home after work? It was a five-mile walk to her rental cottage at the lake. It wasn’t so much the walk that was the issue though, but the slacks and long-sleeve button down shirt her boss, Mrs. Cleary, required of her. It was hot as blazes outside.
In the bathroom at the back of the store, Bella splashed cold water on her face. The short walk from the flower shop to Travis’ garage and back again had been enough to make her wish for an ice bath. The ends of her hair were damp, and her ponytail needed brushing. How it could be smooth one minute and a tangled mess the next, she didn’t know, but the humidity didn’t help. She dusted her cheeks, chin, nose and forehead with some fresh powder, then lined her lips with a bit of gloss.
Her reflection looked a little more presentable than when she’d first flipped the light on. “It’ll have to do,” she told herself.
She hung her purse on the hook behind the front counter and donned her flowery smock. Handmade and fitted to her figure by Mrs. Cleary.
There were orders to fill before closing and would keep her mind on her job and off Travis.
* * * * *
The low whistle echoed through the garage and Travis groaned. “Shit,” he whispered. He didn’t want to get into this, not right now.
“Who belongs to the fancy red Caddy out front? And did you get her personal number?”
Miles was his older brother, by eight years. He usually came in around nine, but he was several hours late today. Given that Bella had been there not too long ago, that was a good thing.
Bella and her family had never been among Miles’ favorite people. Travis was never sure why, but ever since Bella came home, Miles had been especially irritable about her and the entire Drake family.
They were a lot alike, Travis and Miles, despite their age difference. Good women, good times at the bar, hard working. They were also different. Miles held grudges, where Travis tried to see beyond faults.
He glanced around the front end of a twenty-something-year-old land yacht. “Bella Drake,” he answered.
Heat traveled through Travis as her name left his lips and, not for the first time, his long-unused dick woke up.
“Come again?”
“I didn’t stutter and don’t pretend you’re idiot enough not to know already.” Everyone knew who owned the red Cadillac. Including Miles.
“She stayed? I didn’t think she’d give this town more than a passing glance when she wasn’t received with open arms.”
“Right.” Travis turned his attention back to the Jeep’s air filter. “You’re full of shit. She’s been living out on the lake. Old lady Morrison’s place.” He didn’t have to think. He knew exactly where she lived, and he wasn’t the only one. When she’d returned and rented the property, gossip had spread like wildfire.
Miles scowled. “Hasn’t anyone told her she and her kind aren’t welcome here anymore?”
“Whose kind isn’t welcome anymore? Old lady Morrison’s?” Travis glanced up in time to see Miles flip him off. Yeah, some people told Bella she should’ve stayed gone, but she’d always gone her own way. He liked that about her.
“Get off it, will ya? Her brother was the first-rate asshole, not her.”
“Uh huh.”
That was all his brother said, but it was enough. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Travis sighed after the words left his mouth. “Most people don’t give a shit anymore. Why do you?”
It was pretty common knowledge that she’d had nothing to do with her brother’s crimes. Oh, at first, everyone assumed she was as crooked as Artie, but as the drama played out, they’d learned she was a victim too.
Regardless, Travis’ anger over the loss of his family’s investments died the first time he saw her coming out of the flower shop after she moved home. He’d always had a fantasy about dragging her curvy ass across his lap to spank the ever-lovin’ piss out of her. She’d never been particularly stuck up, but their social circles didn’t collide too often. He’d asked her out a couple of times, expecting the rejection she gave.
Back in the day, she’d had a bit of a reputation for liking her sex a little rough. Travis had itched to try it then, and seeing her now … That itch was stronger than ever.
Miles was the only one who’d ever known about the hard-on Travis had for Arabella Drake and was afraid he’d tipped his hand that the desire lingered.
“What’s wrong with her car?” Miles asked, interrupting Travis’ thoughts and ignoring the previous question. He leaned a hip against the Wagoneer Travis had his head in.
“Transmission and fuel injection.”
Miles grunted. “Ouch. Nothing cheap. Especially for that kind of car.”
“Nope.”
“Don’t s’pose she can afford it?”
“Not sure. Told her I’d hold it until Friday for her.”
“Why?”
“Why not? It’s the right thing to do. Not like she can drive it.” Travis didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Not with his brother sounding almost gleeful about her hardships. He hadn’t decided what he was going to do about Bella’s car yet. He could fix it, but with what she’d said about not having access to that kind of money … he didn’t know what that meant exactly. If he only charged her for the parts and waived his labor costs, would it be easier for her to pay the bill?
“Serves her right.”
Travis kept his mouth shut on the topic of Bella. He wasn’t interested in giving his brother further ammunition. “So, you here to work or what?”
Miles smirked, held his hands up and stepped away from the Jeep. “Okay. I get it. I’ll drop it. Put me to work. What do you need?”
“That silver sedan on the end needs an oil change.” Travis nodded his head in the direction of the Mercedes on the other side of the garage. He’d learned the business from the ground up and when his uncle retired, Travis took the reins.
It had its ups and downs, especially in a small town that no longer had a lot of money flowing through it. But people trusted him and his name and still brought their cars in.
He’d expanded the business a few years back to take on more domestic vehicles. There were a couple of other garages in the tri-county area, but his was the oldest with the most loyal business. He aimed to keep it that way.
“Got it. You got time to help me out at the Piersons’ this weekend? They want that deck finished.”
“Yeah. I can help you on Sunday morning.” Miles had taken over their father’s contractor business. He had a way with tools the way Travis had a way with engines. Both were raised to handle whatever job needed attention and to be self-sufficient. Travis wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. “How long do I have you for today?”
Miles clucked his tongue as he pushed off the vehicle and disappeared into the office. He emerged a few minutes later in a set of coveralls. “Until closing. I took care of a few jobs this morning.”
“Appreciate it.”
“It’s what we do, bro.”
“You got that right.”
Miles popped the hood on the silver sedan. “What are you going to do about Bella’s car?”
“Thought we finished that conversation?”
“Sue me.”
Travis snorted. “I don’t know yet.” Truth of the matter was, he did know. He also knew he wouldn’t be waiting until Friday to see her again. He shouldn’t entertain ideas about her other than getting payment for the repairs on her car … He shrugged at his thoughts, knowing he planned to ignore the caution. He wanted things from her that had less and less to do with money.