Chapter Nine – Jamie

 

“Spineless, selfish little prick.”

I slammed four wrenches into the box.

“Weak little dickhead.”

I snatched up three crosshead screwdrivers, yanked open a drawer, and threw them against the metal base.

It closed with a satisfying clang.

“Arrogant little pencil dick.” I tugged open the top drawer and dropped a handful of nuts into it.

Not the decent kind of nuts, either.

Clang, clink, clang, clink.

They rattled across the tiny drawer like a miniature, angry army. I pushed the drawer shut with some crazy vigor.

I was angry from my dream.

That was insane. It was completely fucking crazy that I was so angry from something my subconscious mind had dreamed up, yet here I was.

Alongside Dex. Wearing nothing but light-blue jeans with numerous stains and a light grey tank top that showed off all his muscles. If he’d set a rule about overalls, he hadn’t made it universal, clearly.

Thank God I was wearing nothing but a spaghetti-strap shirt and a pair of workout shorts.

What was good for the goose was good for the gander, my grandma had always taught me.

But she’d lived thirty years in England, so who the hell knew what she really meant by that?

I slammed a drawer shut. It clanged through the garage, clanging off the stone walls.

I didn’t even know what I was insulting. I think it was thin air at this point. There was something satisfying about shouting into thin air, though.

I glanced over my shoulder. Dex was bent over at the waist, fitting Mr. Daniels’ alternator. His light-blue jeans were low-slung and did nothing for the base desire I was currently battling. His shirt had ridden up, and as I peered across the garage, I could see the dimples that decorated the base of his lower back. The muscles that hinted at more to come.

The deeper the muscle, the lower it dipped, right?

Right.

Wrong, Jamie. Wrong, Jamie. That was not how we did this right now.

I shook off those thoughts and dragged my attention away. I was going to hurt myself if I carried on thinking these thoughts.

“It’s been five minutes since you insulted a tool.” Dex’s voice rumbled across the garage. “You all right, darlin’?”

“It’s been five minutes since I stopped killing you in my mind.” The words escaped me right as I twisted the cap on the oil tank and pulled out the dipstick. Too low. I tapped the end of the stick against the side of the twisting cap and set it to the side.

“Is that a record?”

I put a funnel in the hole and studied the height of the oil. “Must be,” I replied, dropping the stick. I crossed the garage and pulled the correct oil from the shelf.

“You sure that’s the right one?” Dex asked.

“Want me to pour it over you and throw a match to be sure?” I unscrewed the cap and slowly poured it into the funnel until the tank was full.

“I’m good. Double-checking is your friend, Jamie.”

I capped the bottle and re-shelved it. “Mhmm.” I screwed the cap back onto the oil tank and moved to the engine oil. The level read fine, but I topped it up a couple inches to be safe. Same with the brake fluid.

This was a standard service. Doubting me was such an insult.

Most non-mechanics knew how to do this, for the love of god.

Even Haley could top up her goddamn brake fluid. Why she couldn’t do the oil was nobody’s business.

I screwed the cap for the brake fluid back on so tight there was no chance Mr. Elvin’s grandson would try to top it up again—six months ago, he’d mistaken that for engine oil.

That had been a costly mistake for my dad…and for Mr. Elvin.

Mostly for Mr. Elvin, granted, but still.

I grabbed the sheets that detailed what other work needed doing on the car. It was only the windscreen wipers, so I crossed out what I’d just done and set the sheets down on the toolbox next to me. I unhooked the hood and pushed it back down into place.

“Done?” Dex asked.

I shook my head. “Have to change the wiper blades.”

“Back-ordered,” he replied, straightening up and only just avoiding banging his head. “Gonna be another two days.”

I blinked at him. “Why’d you book it if you don’t have them?”

What kind of garage was out of stock of wiper blades?

He came over and picked up the sheet. His blue eyes scanned it side to side before he shook his head and handed me the sheet. “I booked it two weeks ago. They’re back-ordered at the supplier. There’s nothing I can do.”

“I told him he’d have it today.” I slumped back against it. “Ugh. This is annoying.”

“Call him.” Dex grabbed a bottle of water from the floor and unscrewed it. “Tell him we’ll call him as soon as they’re in stock and make sure they’re fitted the moment he walks through the door.”

“No, no. You can call him.” I shook my head so vehemently I felt dizzy. “He makes Mr. Daniels look like a puppy.”

Dex faltered for a moment, his cheeks puffing out as he held the water in his mouth. He stared at me for a second before he swallowed and re-capped the bottle. “Well, maybe we should try to find some wipers today.”

“You think?”

“Don’t get snarky. How did I know I was moving to a town full of year-long Scrooges?”

“They’re not Scrooges. They’re…” I hesitated. A word didn’t spring to mind.

“Set in their ways,” I know, he said wryly. “You’ve said. Right. Where would we stand a chance at getting some wiper blades from today?”

I twisted my lips to the side. “Well, there’s the auto place the next town over. They usually have plenty in stock. And there’s a great taco place next door. I’ll get lunch at the same time.”

“Whoa, wait. Why do you get to go?”

“Do you know the auto place I’m talking about?”

Dex clicked his tongue. “No, but I heard something about a great taco place, so…”

“And?”

“And it seems like I should know where this great taco place—I mean, the auto place—is. You should take me.”

“I’m not taking you for lunch. I’d rather eat in a dumpster.”

“You’re so charming. By the way, Jamie, are you single?”

I flipped him the bird. “Fine. I can see I’m not going to get out of this, and I need wipers, so fine. You win. But you’re buying your own tacos, and I’m driving.”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’m driving. You can direct me.”

“No.” I folded my arms across my chest. “In my experience, there’s one thing men cannot do and that is listen to directions.”

“Well, if that’s all you think I can’t do.” He flashed me a wolfish grin and grabbed his phone from the counter to his left. “Come on, Jamie. Show me this great taco place.”

“And buy the wiper blades. I hope you’ve got your credit card, Dex.”

He patted his pocket. “Right there. Let’s go.”

 

***

 

“I told you to go left.”

“I went left!”

“No, you went left two junctions too late.”

“They were close together!” Dex smacked the steering wheel. “Now where do we go?”

“If you’d be quiet, I can try and find out.” I loaded Google Maps on my phone.

“You’re the one bitching.”

“If you’d taken the right junction, I wouldn’t have to bitch. Why don’t you have a GPS in this monster?” Seriously, his truck was huge and basically brand new—and there was no GPS.

It was like twenty-fifteen and the nineteen-eighties had a baby.

“Because it was a pointless extra expense given that I don’t listen to instructions,” he drawled, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “You’re the one who was born here. Don’t you know where we are?”

“If I did, we wouldn’t be lost,” I ground out through my clamped jaw. “Thank God.” The little blue line popped up on my screen. “Right.”

“Go right?” Dex turned the key.

“No, I mean “right” as in, right, let’s go.”

“If you use it like that again and I go right, it’s on you.”

“Dex, shut up and drive.”

He shot me a look, but he did as I said.

“Go slow,” I instructed. “In case you miss a turn again.”

“It was hidden!”

I rolled my eyes. “Five minutes ago, they were too close together. Keep your banana split straight, would you?”

He caught my eye. His lips twitched. “Where am I going now?”

“Keep going.” I didn’t want to think about the way a tiny shiver danced over the back of my neck at the tiny smile that played over his lips. “And take the first right.”

“Got it.” Luckily for me, he took it correctly.

Somehow, we made it out from the middle of nowhere to the main road, and I was able to direct him. He drove a little slower—the kind of slow that makes you cuss out other drivers when you’re behind them—but hey, we finally pulled up to the store in one piece.

Half an hour later than I’d wanted to.

“Never again,” I muttered, jumping into the dusty parking lot.

“No kidding,” he muttered right back.

“I told you to let me drive, but no, you wouldn’t listen.”

Dex slammed his car door shut. “Since you’re nagging like we’re an old married couple, should I propose now or never?”

“Never,” I shot back. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in jail for killing you to put me out of my misery.”

“Aw – I had a moment where I thought it might be nice to marry you. As long as your lips are sewn shut.”

“I’ll sew your cock to the concrete if you don’t be quiet.”

He laughed as I pushed open the door to the store. Air con buzzed, all white-noise in the quiet store. Dex followed me in, and I made a beeline for the wiper section. By the time he’d joined me, I’d picked up the one I needed and, for good measure, grabbed a few spares of the ones I knew we’d need again.

I turned and dumped them in the cart Dex had.

He looked at them. “I thought we just needed one.”

I shrugged. “You’re the one with a shopping cart.”

“I like these places. It’s a weakness of mine. What can I say?”

“You have weaknesses? Except your lack of cutting wit, of course.”

He clutched his chest. “You wound me, darlin’. And yes, I have weaknesses. For example: I find myself uncomfortably addicted to staring at your ass on a regular basis.” He didn’t break eye contact as he said that. “And wishing you’d use your mouth to do something else other than talk all the fucking time.”

I pursed my lips. I didn’t have a response to that—to any of it. The ass thing or the mouth thing.

Especially not the ass thing.

I spun on the balls of my feet and headed down the aisle. I didn’t know where I was going, I was just walking in an effort to get away from him.

Holy shit, I still had to get lunch with him.

Yeah. I’d be sitting at a different table.

I liked tacos, and I liked eating them in peace.

And nothing about Dex screamed peace.

“Jamie?” A familiar voice came from the direction of the counter.

I glanced to the side and grinned. “Well I never, Carmella Duvall. What are you doing here?”

My blonde friend pouted and put down her nail file. “I lost a bet.”

I laughed. “You know better than to wager on a shift in this place.”

“I know, but Dad called me a chicken shit because I had no money. And you know how well that line always gets me.”

“That’s why he uses it.” I laughed again and hugged her over the counter. “How are you?”

“Good. How are you all doing? I heard your dad’s old place is open again.”

“Yeah—I’m actually working there.”

She frowned. “Awkward?”

“Something like that. He’s actually here…somewhere.” I looked around, but Dex had disappeared. “Like a kid in a candy store,” I muttered. “We only came for wiper blades.”

“Supplier back-ordered again?”

“How did you know?” It’d been a problem for longer than Dex knew. And it was always the damn blades…

“How’s the new boss?”

“A constant pain in my ass,” I admitted. “A total nightmare.”

“Ah, look, you’re describing yourself again,” Dex said from behind me. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

“I swear to God…” I turned and glared at him.

He grinned. “Are you ready to go?”

I looked at the now-full cart. “Did you buy the entire store?”

“I needed a few things.”

“I’m starting to think you didn’t make me bring you for the tacos.”

“Think what you want. You’re being rude.” He nodded toward Carmella.

She offered him a sweet smile. “I’ve seen her naked. It’s all good.”

Dex stilled and looked at me. “Is that why you’re single?”

“I was four,” I said dryly. “Sorry to disappoint.”

He glanced down at my chest. “I’m undecided on the disappointed thing.”

“I swear I will hit you.”

“Why don’t I take those and scan them for you, Mr…?” Carmella interjected and gave me a “calm down” look.

She knew my temper.

I took a deep breath.

“Dex,” he said. “Mr. Ryne is my father.”

“You got it, Dex. Get them up here on the counter and I’ll scan them through for you. What brought you here then?” She grabbed the first thing and scanned.

“The garage.” He glanced at me. “My grandfather bought it and told me to run it before I knew what had hit me.”

“Me. I’ll be what hits you,” I muttered.

He coughed, rubbing his jaw, but I saw the glint in his eye. “I ended up with this one as my employee, and I think I found a gray hair this morning.”

“You should dye it again,” I said without missing a beat.

Carmella cleared her throat. She was fighting a smile. “Well, good for you, Dex. And I think you’ll be presently surprised with Jamie as your employee. She’s the best mechanic I know.”

Aw, shucks…

“So she’s trying to prove.” His tone was wry, and so was smile. “How much is that?”

Carmella told him the total and he handed her his card. She wiped and printed the receipt for him to sign. He did so, taking the card back.

“Thank you.” She took it with a flourish and dropped the pen into its pot. “Well, Jamie, it was great to see you. Don’t be a stranger again. And it was a pleasure to meet you, Dex. Good luck.” She offered him a wry smile with a simple twist of her lips, got up, and disappeared into the back room.

He looked at me. “Do you think she’d work reception since you won’t?”

I said nothing. I simply stared for a second, then walked out of the store.

He would be the death of me.