I see her instantly as I’m walking up the street. I had to park my truck down the block, every closer space taken. Town is busy today. My eyes are pulled to her like a pair of magnets tugged to its pole. I had the time to read a bunch of books and it was interesting to note that it’s completely different types that attract while similar ones repel. But while the guy she’s talking to looks repellent to me, he’s definitely her type.

Some rich looking kid her own age. Soft as cookie dough and dressed in a pale pink polo shirt and off-white knee length shorts, deck shoes with no socks. Christ. That’s what she was in a rush to meet? They must be close because of the way he’s leaning in toward her, using all his powers of persuasion about something. I can tell even from a distance.

Caila is looking up at him and a bolt of pure rage flies to my gut. Jealousy. I can’t stand that he gets to talk to her like that, like he’s telling her what to do and she’s listening. I can’t see the expression or the look in her eyes but I can feel the intensity there.

I can’t stand it.

I turn back to return to my truck before the urge to kill that pussy overwhelms me. The sandwich I was going to grab, having missed lunch working on Caila’s car, can wait. Even though I’m ravenous. I can’t walk by her seeing her with another man.

Christ, you’re being ridiculous dude.

This is a small town and she’s the fucking queen of it. You aren’t going to be able to live here and not run into her with some other guy. It’ll be a husband some day, god forbid. The thought that another man will own Caila in that way, forever locking out any other man – me - from claiming her, burns me all to hell.

She should belong to me.

There’s no logical reason why, other than I want her more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my entire life.

There’s something about her and I know she’s too good for me. Anyone would say it – who does he think he is, that dirty mechanic, going after Caila Ferris? Her body is perfect of course, the tight little curves sending my cock into a tailspin since the day I first saw her. But her smile is so cute, with a hint of naughtiness behind it, her confidence is wanton, and there’s an intelligence too that I don’t notice much in other women.

What do you know about women, you idiot?

Yeah, I’m turning into a sap because it’s been too long without one. And that’s not about to change with Caila.

I grit on my jaw and act like a man, turning back toward Caila and the guy. I’ll walk past her, nod my head in recognition. That’s if she even notices me. Perhaps she’s smitten with pasty boy and won’t even take in my presence.

I steel myself and stride toward her but the atmosphere has changed. Even people passing by the pair on the street are veering a slightly wider berth around them. Like they don’t want to get involved with something.

Caila and the kid are arguing now. A lover’s tiff that makes my blood pummel through my veins. My lips press tight together just thinking of how he might be giving her a rough time. That urge springs up again.

Just calm down and mind your own damn business Rand. Keep it cool.

I keep walking, getting closer. Trying to avert my eyes but Caila, without knowing it, holds me trapped just by being close. I can’t take my gaze off her. When I get close, her eyes snap to mine and she startles. I see the anger and irritation that’s settled there and how it suddenly changes to something else when she looks at me. Something softer and filled with, no, I’m imagining the desire pooling there.

“Hey, look at me,” the dude shouts at her.

Caila’s eyes stay fixed on me, widening, her lips part slightly.

“I said look at me, you stupid tramp.”

The asshole grabs her arm, pulling on her hard to retrieve her full attention but I’m already storming toward them. I come up on them and yank his hand off her, pinning his arm in my fist as he jerks in surprise.

“What the -?” he yelps. “Who the fuck are you?”

“A friend,” I snarl, wishing I could break his elbow, just snap it at the elbow for speaking to her like that. For laying his hands on her without using his softest caress. “Here to advise you to treat a woman right.”

“Mind your own fucking business, greaseball,” he snarls.

If it wasn’t the middle of the afternoon I might think the kid was drunk. But he’s just got that entitled air you see nowadays in twenty year olds that have grown up with everything. Geez, I sound like an old man. And it doesn't mean I want to shove my fist in his face any less.

“I make it my fucking business when a man puts his hands on any woman. Are you okay, Caila?” I ask her.

Her eyes are huge and round, glistening slightly. If he makes her cry, I will deck him and put him on the ground. But she nods her head, staring at me constantly.

“Sure?” I ask.

She nods again and as I walk away to go about my business, add for the asshole; “Don’t let me see you touch her like that again, unless you feel like sampling my touch on you.”

“You know that asshole?” the douche is asking her. “He called you Caila. You know him?”

He’s mad as hell and I’m glad about that. Just so long as he doesn’t take it out on Caila.

When I come out of the sub shop, the street is empty. I look up and down but there’s not a sign of Caila and I can’t dismiss the sinking feeling. Who knows when I’ll get to see her again.

I looked over every inch of the old Lincoln and it’s been cared for, not likely to break down again any time soon. Perhaps I should have done what a lot of guys in the trade do and fixed it so’s something else would go and she’d have to bring the car in again. Not that there’s even a guarantee of that seeing as it’s her father’s car. Better just put her out of my head.

She’s got a boyfriend, judging by the possessive stance the brat held over her. I can’t for the life of me understand why she lowers herself for a guy that treats her like that but maybe that’s her thing. I know some women like to be pushed around. My sister always went for idiots like that as well.

Knowing I’ll never stop thinking about her, I reconcile myself to having Caila as the girl of my dreams. Not to mention all my fantasies, and head back to the garage.

I’m under an Eagle Mark three, fixing the diffuser and forcing myself not to think about Caila. Every time I remember how that kid pulled her arm, my blood rages up again. Shit, I need a new valve on this. When I unscrew the connector beside the air valve, a leak spurts all over my hands, running down my forearms.

I curse the heat and heel myself to roll out from under the car then sit up to wipe my forehead of sweat. When I open my stinging eyes again, there’s a pair of the shapeliest thighs, making a perfect cross right in front of me.

“Caila, what happened?” I ask, tipping my head up to look at her, forcing myself to avoid the soft flesh at the top of her legs and how the crease makes me think of how sweet she must taste. “Is the Lincoln okay?”

“Um, it could be making a rattle again,” she says.

“A rattle?” I grin, knowing it wasn’t making any noise before.

“Yeah.”

“Seriously, where?”

“I’m not really sure.”

I sit where I am and gaze up the length of her, drinking her in. I’ve never seen a more perfect woman. And I’m pretty sure from the look in her eyes that there’s nothing wrong with the car.

“I did such a thorough special job on that car, I’d be surprised if she breaks down again in the next decade,” I tell her, my throat husking.

I’m so glad to see her again I’d like to pull her down into my lap and hold her there. I must be completely nuts.

“You did?” she murmurs, softly. “A special job? For my father?”

She’s so petite my head comes up to her waist and I’m exactly at the level of those gorgeous thighs and everything I want between. Not that I want her just for her body but right about now it’s damn appealing.

“Not for him, no,” I say.

Is this happening?

The heat rising between us is enough to melt mercury. It can’t be one-sided and only coming from me. Caila is looking at me like she wants nothing more than for me to rip down those tight little shorts and ravish her with my tongue. If she was mine, I’d do that for her and a whole lot more every single day. If she belonged to me completely.

But she isn’t and I have to keep this professional. I don’t have any desire to be run out of town.