Foreplay (The Ivy Chronicles #1)(2)

I glanced around. The inky night pressed in thickly. “I’m not,” I denied, but my voice rang thin, lacking all conviction.

“I get it. I’m a stranger. I know it would make you more comfortable if I left, but I wouldn’t want my mother out here alone at night.”

I held his gaze for a long moment, taking his measure, attempting to see something of his character in the shadowy lines of his face. I glanced to my still smoking car and back at him. “Okay. Thanks.” The “thanks” followed slowly, a deep breath later, full of hesitation. I only hoped I wasn’t going to end up on the morning news.

If he wanted to hurt me he would. Or at least he would try. Whether I invited him to look at my engine or not. That was my logic as I watched him pull his Jeep in front of my car. The door swung open. He unfolded his long frame and stepped out into the night with a flashlight in his hand.

His footsteps crunched over loose gravel, the beam of his flashlight zeroing in on my still-smoldering vehicle. From the angle of his face, I didn’t think he even looked my way. He went straight for my car, lifting the hood and disappearing under it.

Arms crossed tightly in front of me, I stepped forward cautiously, edging out into the road so I could watch him as he studied the engine. He reached down and touched different things. God knows what. My knowledge of auto mechanics was right up there with my origami-making abilities.

I went back to studying his shadowy features. Something glinted. I squinted. His right eyebrow was pierced.

Suddenly another beam of lights lit up the night. My would-be-mechanic straightened from beneath the hood and stepped out, positioning himself between me and the road, his long legs braced and hands on his hips as the car approached. I had my first unfettered view of his face in the harsh glow of oncoming headlights, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

The cruel lighting might have washed him out or picked up his flaws, but no. As far as I could see he had no physical flaws. He was hot. Plain and simple. Square jaw. Deep-set blue eyes beneath slashing dark brows. The eyebrow piercing was subtle, just a glint of silver in his right eyebrow. His hair looked like a dark blond, cut short, close to his head. Emerson would call him lickable.

This new vehicle halted beside my car and I snapped my attention away from him as the window whirred down. Lickable leaned down at the waist to peer inside.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Graham. Mrs. Graham.” He slid a hand from his jean pocket to give a small wave.

“Car trouble?” a middle-aged man asked. The backseat of the car was illuminated with the low glow of an iPad. A teenager sat there, his gaze riveted to the screen, punching buttons, seemingly oblivious that the car had even stopped.

Lickable nodded and motioned to me. “Just stopped to help. I think I see the problem.”

The woman in the passenger seat smiled at me. “Don’t worry, honey. You’re in good hands.”

Eased at the reassurance, I nodded at her. “Thank you.”

As the car drove away, we faced each other, and I realized this was the closest I had allowed myself to get to him. Now that some of my apprehension was put to rest, a whole new onslaught of emotions bombarded me. Sudden, extreme self-consciousness for starters. Well, for the most part. I tucked a strand of my unmanageable hair behind my ear and shifted uneasily on my feet.

“Neighbors,” he explained, motioning to the road.

“You live out here?”

“Yeah.” He slid one hand inside his front jean pocket. The action made his sleeve ride up and reveal more of the tattoo that crawled from his wrist up his arm. Unthreatening as he might be, he was definitely not your standard boy next door.

“I was babysitting. The Campbells. Maybe you know them.”

He moved toward my car again. “They’re down the road from my place.”

I followed. “So you think you can fix it?” Standing beside him, I peered down into the engine like I knew what I was looking at. My fingers played nervously with the edges of my sleeves. “’Cause that would be awesome. I know she’s a jalopy, but I’ve had her a long time.” And I couldn’t exactly afford a new car right now.

He angled his head to look at me. “Jalopy?” A corner of his mouth kicked up.

I winced. There I went again, showing off the fact that I grew up surrounded by people born before the invention of television.

“It means an old car.”

“I know what it means. Just never heard anyone but my grandmother say it.”

“Yeah. That’s where I picked it up.” From Gran and everyone else in the Chesterfield Retirement Village.

Turning, he moved to his Jeep. I continued to play with my sleeves, watching him return with a bottle of water.

“Looks like a leaky radiator hose.”

“Is that bad?”

Unscrewing the cap on the water, he poured it inside my engine. “This will cool it down. Should run now. For a while at least. How far are you going?”

“About twenty minutes.”

“It will probably make it. Don’t go farther than that or it will overheat again. Take it to a mechanic first thing tomorrow so he can replace the hose.”

I breathed easier. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Shouldn’t cost more than a couple hundred.”

I winced. That would pretty much wipe out my account. I would have to see about working a few extra shifts at the daycare or getting some more babysitting gigs. At least when I babysat, I could get in some studying after the kids went to bed.