Blame It on Texas (16 page)

When she’d left the office, she’d found she had a flat tire. She’d been tempted to run inside and pretend to be the weak little woman and ask one of the guys for help, but she wasn’t a weak little woman. She could change a tire as good as a man.

Better than most.

Her father had made sure of it. Her first job, and the only one she’d worked at until she started college, was in one of his auto repair shops. It had taken awhile, but soon she’d earned the respect of most of her father’s mechanics.

That said, she obviously couldn’t change a tire wearing white clothes.

“Christ, let me do that.”

Ellen turned and faced Rick Clark. Freaking great! Couldn’t it have been any of the other guys?

He pushed up the sleeves of his light blue oxford shirt, exposing his super-toned forearms, which were lightly dusted with dark hair. She frowned when she realized that even the man’s arm hair did something to her.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” He reached for the tire.

She latched on to her spare and took a few steps back. “I got this,” she said. Forgetting about black streaks, she pulled the tire closer and wished he wasn’t so close. Was that clean spicy scent his aftershave? Or just him?

His brows tightened. “I can have it changed in no time flat.”

She frowned. His tone threw her back to having to prove herself when she worked at her dad’s shop. “So can I.”

His gaze lowered to the tire. “You’re getting tire tracks all over your shirt.”

“I didn’t like this shirt anyway,” she said.

“Seriously, let me do it.”

“
Seriously
, I can handle it.” She knew she sounded unappreciative, but she couldn’t help it. Not only was she annoyed that she found him so damn attractive, but she’d never liked it when a man, any man, treated her like a weakling.

“Just give me the tire,” he said, “and I’ll be happy to do it.”

She stiffened. “You got problems with your hearing, Detective?”

The puzzlement left his eyes, replaced with an almost accusing tightness. He held up his hands and took a step back, making it clear he thought she was rude.

And maybe it was for the best; let him think she was a bitch. Fix it so he never even thought about asking her out again.

She moved over to the back tire and dropped the spare and then went back to the trunk to get the lug wrench and jack. She practically had to crawl into the trunk to get the wrench, and she felt him staring.

Once she had what she needed, she went back to the flat. She knelt down and took a deep breath. He stood there, arms crossed, staring at her. She popped off her hubcap and let it fall to the parking lot with a loud bang.

“So, you’re one of those, huh?”

She glared back at him over her shoulder. “One of what?”

“I-am-woman-hear-me-roar types,” he said, frowning.

“Really? You get that because I can change my own tire?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She turned back to the flat, listened for him to walk away, and picked up her lug wrench. No receding footsteps filled her ears. Did he plan to stand there and watch?

Fine. Let him! She’d show him.
Hear me roar, my ass!

Lug wrench on, she secured her footing so she could put her weight into loosening the nuts. Then, feeling his eyes boring down her back, hoping it would fuel her strength, she gave it everything she had.

And it didn’t budge. Neither did she.

She kept pushing and pushing, putting every bit of strength she had into the job. Her strength leaked out of her in the form of sweat. One rather large drip rolled down her brow and hung on to the very end of her nose. Finally, she released her hold on the wrench and relaxed her stance.

She waited for his sarcastic remark. She even looked forward to it, hoping it would get her adrenaline up.

He didn’t say a word.

Staring at the lug nut as if it were the enemy, she recalled her father had taken her car in to get her last new tire and some idiot had probably used an impact wrench on the dang nuts.

But she wasn’t giving up yet. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she grabbed the lug wrench and went back in for the kill.

She gave it everything she had.

Her all.

And then some.

It still wasn’t enough. She released the wrench and almost released some unladylike language she’d learned while working at the shop.

She waited for him to say something sarcastic.

Not a word.

Counting to five, she wiped the sweat from her cheek and looked back at him.

He stood there, arms crossed over his wide chest, smiling at her.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

His smile widened. “Yeah. Actually, I am.”

She stood up. “You don’t have to be a smartass.”

“And you didn’t have to be an old battle-ax like my sixth-grade teacher, either, but it didn’t stop you.”

Somewhere between trying to come up with a retort that would put him in his place and mentally berating whoever had changed her tires, she came to her senses.

He was right. She’d been rude.

“Okay, I admit I was… not being nice.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that the same as being an old battle-ax?”

She let go of a deep breath and a big chunk of her pride. “Yes, it is. I’m sorry.”

He looked back at her tire and then up at her. “Well, I guess I’ll see you.” He turned away.

“Seriously?” she muttered before she could stop herself.

He turned around and had another big smile on his face. “Nah, I was just giving you a hard time.” Pushing up his sleeves again, he knelt in front of the tire.

He removed the lug wrench hanging from the tire, repositioned it, and put muscle into the job. Lots of muscle. She knew because she saw his biceps bulging under his shirt. She was so caught up in watching his muscles shifting under the light blue cotton, it took her a second to realize he wasn’t having any more luck than she’d had.

She regained some of her damaged pride. “Not so easy, is it?”

He released his hold and looked up at her. “I’m just pretending it’s difficult to make you feel better.” He smiled.

“Right,” she said, knowing he was lying through his teeth.

He reattached the lug wrench, and this time, the nut gave way. He glanced up again. “See.”

She rolled her eyes, and he got busy loosening the other nuts.

When he finished that, the temptation to tell him she could handle it from there was strong. But she was afraid she would come off as being bitchy again, so she bit her lip.

A couple of times during the process, he looked up at her, but he didn’t say anything and neither did she. When
the spare tire was in place and the lug nuts tightened, he stood up. “That spare isn’t meant to be driven long. You should get a new tire soon. If you’re nervous about driving on it, I could drive up to get a new tire and put it on for you.”

“I’m fine,” she said, and then, realizing that might have sounded rude, she added, “My dad owns several auto repair shops. I’m not trying to roar, but if the lug nuts hadn’t been on so tight, I could have taken care of it. I worked there for four years before I went to college. I really can change a tire, the oil, and even rebuild a transmission.”

He grinned and reared back on the heels of his shoes. “The woman really can roar. I’m impressed.”

“You’d have been more impressed if someone hadn’t used an impact wrench to tighten my lug nuts.” She grinned. After the smile they shared went a fraction of a second long, she added, “Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome.” He loaded everything back into her trunk. When he faced her again, he studied her. Then he touched his cheek. “You’ve got some grease on your face. Not that it doesn’t look good on you. Nothing hotter than a woman who can work on cars.” His green eyes sparkled with sexual innuendo.

Not good
, she thought as she reached up and ran her fingers over her cheek.

“It’s still there,” he said. Then, as if reading her nervousness, he waved to his car. “I guess… I should be going. Don’t be running any curbs with that spare.” He held up his hands and shrugged. “Not that you don’t already know that.”

She watched him walk away, and then she turned to her car. She had to give the guy credit for not hitting on her
harder. He could have asked her out again, knowing she’d feel too guilty to refuse this time after he’d helped her.

Then she heard footsteps coming behind her. “I forgot to ask.”

Right. She should have expected it. This was just how he’d done it before—walk away and then come back and catch her by surprise. As she turned to face him, her stomach knotted at the thought of having to turn him down. She ignored the slightest undercurrent of temptation to say yes. But it just wasn’t worth the hassle. Definitely not worth the risk.

“You know that book you had for your daughter—
Dogs to the Rescue
—is it for girls and boys, or just girls?”

She was so set on hearing him ask her out a second time, that it took her a minute to wrap her head around his question.

She nodded. “It could appeal to both.”

“Thanks.” His cell phone rang. He took it out of his shirt pocket and looked at the screen. He muttered something under his breath and jabbed his phone off. Still scowling, he snapped his gaze up at her. “Sorry.” He turned and left.

She got in her car and made it down the block before she couldn’t resist any longer. She reached for her phone and dialed Nikki.

“Hey,” Nikki said.

Ellen bit into her bottom lip. “Don’t think anything of this, but… I was wondering does Rick Clark have kids?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard of. Why?”

“Because… he keeps asking me about kids’ books.”

“Oh, God,” Nikki said. “He’ll say anything to get in your pants. Don’t give him the time of day.”

“I’m not,” Ellen said. But she frowned, not liking how everyone accused him of being one thing but she kept seeing a different side of him. Not that he couldn’t be putting on the front for a reason. Players did that kind of thing, didn’t they?

“Did he ask you out again? You’re not dating him, Ellen. He’s bad news.”

“He didn’t ask me out. And remember, I told you not to make anything of it. Okay, I’m driving, I shouldn’t be talking.” She hung up before Nikki started handing out even more relationship advice. Nikki wasn’t one to talk about relationships. She’d had her own issues and had almost blown things with Dallas because of her fear of getting hurt.

Not that her own situation with Rick had any similarities to Nikki’s. Nikki had been stubborn, but Ellen was… well, she was being smart. Huge difference.

Ellen tightened her fingers around the wheel. “I’m not giving him the time of day,” she muttered, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how good he looked changing her tire.

She thought about him all the way home. Right up until she saw Noel’s car parked in her driveway.

Oh, hell. Not again!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A
S TEMPTING AS
it was to stomp her foot on the gas and squeal away, Ellen didn’t. She parked her Honda on the street, not wanting anything to prevent Noel from leaving. Before she could take her key out of the ignition, Noel got out of his car.

She watched his six-foot-plus frame move toward her. She felt tightness in her gut, not anything like she felt when she’d seen Rick approach. This one came from something akin to hatred. The thought that she’d once believed she’d loved the man made her feel sick.

When she’d gone to him with news of her pregnancy, insecure but believing they were in love, his confession that he was already married had stunned her. But his willingness—some might say eagerness—to pay for the abortion had crushed her.

Hurt and humiliated, she told him she’d take care of it. And she had. She’d packed her bags and went to live in Florida with her aunt. Only when her dad had his heart attack did she move back to Texas.

It was time to come home, too. Britney was three and
was missing out on seeing her grandparents. And her parents needed Ellen. For the first six months, being home had been good. But then she’d run into Noel and his wife at the mall. Noel had taken one look at Britney and knew.

The next day, he’d shown up at her parents’ house, furious. “Let me get this straight,” she’d said. “You’re angry because I didn’t kill my child?”

They had argued. She told him to get lost. He did. For six months.

Ellen gripped the steering wheel, and when she looked down she saw her daughter’s book on the passenger seat. Her daughter. It took more than a sperm donation to make a man a father.

After that six months, Noel showed up and insisted on being a part of Britney’s life. He even apologized. He said he and his wife were talking divorce, and he didn’t want her to use his daughter against him. So it might take a while before he could see Britney regularly.

Ellen wasn’t sure she had a right to keep Britney from him, so she agreed. She didn’t like the fact that he planned to keep Britney from his wife. But considering Ellen had wanted nothing to do with him emotionally, she hadn’t argued.

After a few visits, Noel made it clear that it wasn’t just Britney he wanted. She’d put the brakes on that idea fast and hard. At first, Noel played by her rules. Things changed when she met James. James, a divorced plumber who’d worked on her parents’ house, was fun, sexy, and, while it wasn’t serious, Ellen had hopes. But Noel had come unglued.
If you’re going to date, couldn’t you find a guy who didn’t unstop toilets for a living?

At the memory, Ellen inhaled and stared at Noel’s car. A nice,
rich
car. A real shame that money didn’t buy class.

Noel might have insisted she stay away from James, but she wasn’t about to let Noel control her life, so she continued to see James.

A month later, Noel showed up with pictures of her and James having sex in her hot tub. The pictures made two people making love look like something out of a porn movie. Noel made it clear that James had to go, or he was suing for custody of Britney. Noel said he’d told his wife about Britney and she was willing to help him raise her.