CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jenny stood outside Derek’s garage and gazed around. Odd to think that she’d never been here.
Then she wondered why she found it odd.
She knew Derek had worked here since he finished high school a year before she did, and he’d told her that he owned the business now. Once he’d come clean about not being in the debt collection industry, that is.
A chain-link fence stretched the length of the property on one side, behind which a full spectrum of cars were parked, from rusted junkers to a gleaming burgundy Dodge Ram.
On the other side was a small building that she guessed was storage or offices, and dead ahead was the open bay of the workshop itself. From inside came the beat of a loud stereo. If she wasn’t wearing her thick-soled work boots, she’d be able to feel the heavy bass thump from the ground up.
A power tool screamed high and sudden, making her flinch.
Jenny cast a quick look around, wondering if there was another door she was supposed to use, then told herself to stop dithering. She pulled her shoulders back and marched in through the open bay doors.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The sun was high and scorching, and inside the building it all seemed a washed-out sludgy gray.
Her vision cleared to reveal there were four…workstations?... in the front part of the garage, and possibly more in the back. One car was up on a lift. One had a pair of legs sticking out from under the chassis. One looked like it had had its nose caught in giant pincers—Jenny had no clue how Derek was going to fix that—and the other car appeared to be in the middle of an autopsy. A thin man stood over the stripped carcass, hands on hips as he stared at the spread-out parts, lost in thought.
Jenny fought the urge to slowly back away. She couldn’t, not when she was so close to regaining vehicular independence: behind the car on a lift, she’d caught sight of her Honda.
She was surprised at the rush of affection that washed through her when she saw the familiar green. After this week, she was never again going to take her faithful car for granted. She was even, she promised, going to wash it regularly. Because someone here had, and it looked fabulous. Chrome sparkled. The green paintwork gleamed.
Don’t even get her started on the crystal clear windshield.
She double-checked the license plate.
Yeah, it was her car.
Okay. Great start. Now, where was Derek? She eyed the protruding legs, concluded they were much too short and much too feminine to be Derek’s. She glanced around and noticed a large interior window in the side wall. Ah. Office. Was he in there? If not, perhaps someone who could give her the bill and the keys was.
Jenny strode for the office, slowing when she saw that Derek was indeed there, on the phone.
From the looks of things, this really wasn’t his day. The tense expression on his face said he was having another fun conversation. Probably he’d had the same expression when he was talking to her ten minutes ago.
He was staring at the floor, one hand clasped over the back of his neck, mouth tight as he listened to the person at the other end.
For some reason she’d expected him to be wearing coveralls with his name embroidered in a patch over the breast. Instead, he looked like himself, in jeans and a tee. Just…dirtier.
Jenny swallowed.
Eyes fixed on Derek, she didn’t see the large man in front of her until she walked into him. He grabbed her elbows to steady her then snatched his hands away and hopped back as if she’d screamed bloody murder.
“Oh,” Jenny said. “Hi.”
“Hi.” His voice was low, quiet, and did not at all match his intimidating bulk.
“I’m Jenny.” She stuck out a hand.
The man looked down at his grease-stained hands, visibly panicked, and dug around in his pocket. He hauled out a rag and scrubbed. His cheeks began to turn pink and he scrubbed harder. He huffed out a breath, then shook hands, releasing her—once again—as if she’d screamed bloody murder. “Burke,” he muttered.
“Hey, Burke. I’m here to collect my car.”
“Yep. You’re Derek’s lady.”
She scratched her head. Derek’s lady? “Any chance you can get me the keys and the bill?” She gestured in the direction of the office. “Derek’s busy. I don’t want to disturb him.”
Burke glanced at the office. “Uh, yeah.” He pointed at the floor in front of her. “Wait right here.”
“Right here,” Jenny agreed.
He took two steps, then turned back and pointed again, saying earnestly, “Right here. Don’t wander about. Lots of ways to get hurt.” He waited for her to nod before he powered off.
Sweet guy.
She watched Burke enter the office. Derek’s head came up, but he continued with the call that still had him frowning.
Burke gently straight-armed Derek to one side, away from the desk. He gathered a clipboard from the desktop, swiped some keys from a board on the wall, and headed back her way, closing the office door behind him.
“What was the problem?” Jenny asked. “And do I need to worry about it happening again?”
“Oil was low. All but gone. You should watch that.”
He paused, waiting.
“I will,” Jenny said, because he seemed to need her agreement.
“Radiator was dry and the head gasket blown. And the fan belt needed replacing.”
“That was it?”
He ducked his head with a smile. “Yeah.”
Jenny blinked at the way the smile transformed his homely face. She realized she was staring when his cheeks began to turn pink again. “Great,” she said. “Uh, how common is it for fan belts to…break? Erode? Snap? Curl up and die? I don’t know what they do when they don’t work.”
“Common enough. You should get your car checked on a regular basis. It’ll be spotted in routine maintenance.”
“Hah. That’s where I went wrong. My car has not seen a mechanic for about as long as it’s been since I’ve seen a man’s—” She cut off, she and Burke exchanged horrified glances, and Jenny burst out laughing. “Delete that,” she said.
“Done.” His cheeks were scarlet but his pretty hazel eyes shone with amusement.
God help this man if Lila ever discovered his existence. Big, sweet, shy and blushing? Kurt would be yesterday’s news. And Burke wouldn’t stand a chance. He’d be Mr. Lila Baxter in less than a week.
“Derek got under your hood and had a good rummage around. He was thorough, didn’t leave a thing untouched—”
Jenny stared at Burke. That is not a sexual comment. He’s talking about your car, not you. Do not smile.
“—he filled your tank all the way up, radiator and oil, too. You’re good for fluids—”
Don’t do it.
“—inspected everything, made a few minor tweaks like giving you a hose—”
I’m going to do it.
“—you know, a new one for the radiator, and it’s all in working order.” Burke held out the keys. “You’re good to go.” He dropped them into her waiting palm.
Jenny kept her face straight. “How much do I owe?”
Burke flipped through the clipboard, folded a few sheets back and read the total. “Just parts, says here.” He tugged the sheet loose.
Jenny was about to take it when a sharp rap on the office window made them both start. They turned to face Derek. He was still on the phone but he was standing by the glass, his eyes on Jenny.
He gave his head a single shake.
Jenny and Burke froze.
Jenny unfroze first. She made a grab for the bill. Derek was now pointing at Burke and shaking his head. Burke whisked the bill out of her reach.
“Give it,” Jenny said.
“Uh, I don’t think Derek—”
“Burke.” Jenny darted a look at Derek.
He held up his hand. Five minutes, he mouthed.
Jenny shook her head.
Derek nodded.
“Burke,” she said. “Give me the damn bill.”
The big man lifted it higher. Jenny tracked it, feet above her head.
She took a step closer. He was even taller than Alex, and Alex was six four. “Give it. Or I will climb you.”
Paper cracked in the air as he whipped it down and held it out, eyes wide.
Jenny was pretty sure she could hear Derek laughing.
“Sorry,” she said. “I was bluffing. I wouldn’t climb you.” She folded the bill, stuffed it in her cargo shorts pocket, and hustled to her car. She leaped in, fired up the engine.
Burke followed her, looking agitated. “You’re not supposed to drive out of the—”
She waved him off. “Got to go. Big hurry. Have to pick my daughter up from school.” Nope, Kate was at a friend’s house until after dinner. “Tell Derek I’ll mail him a check. Or PayPal. Whatever. It’s cool, he knows I’m good for it.”
“Yes, but clients aren’t supposed to drive out of the workshop, you have to wait for someone to bring it—”
“Nice meeting you, Burke!” she called, drove out and onto the forecourt, wincing when she heard her tires chirp as she pulled onto the road.
She was mobile again.
Jenny buzzed the window down, punched the stereo up, and sang all the way home with the wind in her hair and her heart light.