Chapter Three

CAM

I shouldn't have agreed to Isabel's offer—or more accurately, her demand—to stick around the shop while I work after hours. Tonight wasn't the first time I've been alone while working on cars, and I'm sure it won't be the last.

When she stormed up to me with her little speech about my parents… I almost gave in then. Because she's not wrong. I know Dad doesn't like all the extra hours I'm putting in since he broke his hand.

He worries that I'm going to burn out and hates not being here to do his share. He built this business from scratch, but I know he'd rather see it fall to the ground than have something happen to me. He still hasn't fully forgiven himself for not being there to protect Mom when she was taken from us—not that he could have prevented the accident, but guilt and logic are hardcore adversaries. I'm not sure he'd survive if something happened to me. Something he'd feel responsible for.

I'd decided to shut shit down and head home once Isabel was gone. Spend some time going through that stack of resumes and make some calls.

Then she shot that plan to hell by parking her cute little ass on the rolling stool and refusing to leave me alone.

In that moment, I realized adult Isabel is exactly the same person as little kid Izzy. Spunky, persistent, wears her heart on her sleeve. I also realized I'll never be able to say no to Isabel, the woman, just like I couldn't say no to the little girl she used to be. I liked that kid. And, even though she's been back in my life for less than an hour, I like the woman she grew into. A little too much, but I'll get a handle on that.

Isabel wanted the fairy tale since she was old enough to talk. She's been gone a long time and I'm sure she outgrew her childhood crush on me, but I doubt her endgame has changed. Little girls with wedding scrapbooks and the names of their future children picked out become women looking for head-over-heels romance with a guy who'll put a ring on it and not hesitate for a second to promise them forever. They want a man like my dad, and a relationship like the one he shared with my mom.

If Isabel had come back to town two years ago, maybe I could've been that man. Not now. Not after seeing how my mother's death affected my dad. After watching the strongest man I've ever known crumble under the weight of a broken heart… Falling in love is off the table for me.

Even if Isabel still has feelings for me, or gets some, I won't go there with her, no matter how gorgeous she is or how much her sassy spirit makes me want to antagonize her and fuck her. Both at the same time would be pretty damn hot. That's going to have to live in my head only. I can't do casual with my best friend's little sister, and I won't do serious with anyone. No love, no loss. No loss, no pain.

"Hey. I don't hear any work happening over there," Isabel says from the chair she brought out from the breakroom after we ate pizza. Her legs are elevated, crossed at the ankles, resting on an open drawer of my toolbox. Total supervisor mode, right down to the tipped-up chin she's giving me.

"Yeah, just zoned out for a minute."

Her feet hit the concrete floor. Within seconds, she's in my space, a serious expression on her face as she checks me over. "It's seven thirty, Cam. Time to call it a day and get some rest." Gentle as her voice is, it's clear she's making a decision, not asking for an opinion.

"Think you're the boss now?" The fact that she's right doesn't mean I can't give her a hard time. Because damn, do I want to give her a hard time.

"Self-appointed interim boss of you, yes. You have a problem with that, cupcake?"

"Cupcake?" I say on a chuckle, and she gives me a cheeky little smile and nod. Next thing I know, I've got my filthy hands on her lush hips and I'm pinning her to the side of the Dodge I was working on. "You're the only sweet thing here." When her eyes go wide and she sputters instead of sassing me, I wake the hell up and step back. "Shit. I was way out of line, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I just—" She snaps her mouth shut, shaking her head. "You're exhausted, and I was teasing, and our signals got mixed-up. That's all it was. A mix-up. No harm done. Let's forget about it."

"I'm not going to forget about it." For more reasons than she'll ever know. "But it won't happen again."

"I know."

"I'll fix this. Make it up to you. Tony just asked me yesterday about getting together to hit the heavy bags. I'll set that up and you can come along. I'll tell him what I did tonight and?—"

"No!" A deep blush floods her cheeks as she glances wildly around the shop, looking like a trapped animal desperate to escape. She presses her fingertips to her face, tapping all around while exhaling. "Don't tell Tony," she says, dropping her hands to her sides. "Just…don't. Please."

A nod is all I've got in me. I can't promise to keep my mouth shut after being a complete douchebag to her. Amends need to be made. Taking some punches would be well deserved. "I'm going to shut everything off and get changed. You don't have to wait around. There's a phone list on the desk with the taxi number on it. Call from the office phone and they'll know where to pick you up. Just flip the deadbolt on the office door and you can take off when they get here."

"Sure. Thanks. And thanks for the pizza earlier. It was nice to sit and talk to you for a while."

Every good-mannered word feels like a kick to the balls—which is what I deserve. It's on the tip of my tongue to tell her not to thank me, but I swallow it down. The more I talk about it, the more she has to think about me being a piece of shit.

Without giving her an acknowledgement or goodbye, I head for the stairs that lead to the loft. I take them two at a time, closing the door behind me once I'm inside. There's a shower up here, but I'll wait until I get home, where I can stand under the scalding-hot water until it runs out, even though I know that won't rid me of my shitty feelings.

My shirt is still half buttoned when I hear the monitoring system's robotic voice say "front door open," indicating Isabel left the building. The taxi office is around the block, but it's a big block. There's no way a cab got here that fast. More likely is that she chose to wait outside. Probably couldn't stand to share air with me after I treated her like… like I don't even know what. I've never touched a woman I'm not involved with. And to pin her against the car like I did? I'm surprised she didn't slap me across the face.

Downstairs, I grab the resumes along with my phone and keys. There has to be at least one applicant who can do the job temporarily. Even the small stuff. I don't want Isabel thinking she has to stick to her promise of being my safety crew. Or just as bad, maybe worse, if she doesn't show up to keep her promise. I just need to hire someone tomorrow. Eliminate both options and all the problems.

I shut off the compressor and torch, check all the doors, then hit the lights, set the alarm, and head outside. It's not fully dark yet, but twilight hangs low and heavy, painting the horizon in swaths of orange, pink, and blue.

Isabel is nowhere to be seen. She must've called from her phone, out here in the parking lot, and got a driver immediately. Good. Waiting with her would've been awkward. Earlier, I had planned to offer her a ride. Be a nice guy. I sure fucked that up.

After checking all the car doors in the lot to make sure they're locked, I hop into my truck, parked beside the building. The drive to my house takes the same amount of time no matter which direction I turn, but I always make a right. Tonight, I take a left, and I see the reason for my gut feeling comes into view before I reach the stoplights.

Isabel, walking. She's on the opposite side of the street, but there's no traffic, so I slow to a crawl and roll my window down.

"Couldn't get a taxi?" I call across the open lane.

"Didn't try."

"Are you taking a bus?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I'm going to walk."

"It'll take you an hour to get to your dad's place. And it'll be fully dark soon. I know you've been a city girl for the past twelve years, but I don't like the idea of you walking alone at night. If you don't want to ride with me, let me call a cab, or your brother."

She stops on the sidewalk, forcing me to do the same in my lane. "You didn't offer me a ride."

"I didn't think you'd want one after what I did." Behind me, an approaching driver honks their horn. I put on my four-ways and stick my arm out the driver's window, motioning them to go around.

"Ask me," Isabel says, after the car passes.

One hand on top of the steering wheel, I crane my upper body so I'm kind of sticking out the open window. "Can I give you a ride? If you're not comfortable with me, and won't let me call someone else to pick you up, then I'll match your speed and drive beside you to make sure you get home safely."

"So, you're my safety crew now?" Even from across the lane, the playfulness in her tone is clear. As is the smile on her face.

I can't resist sending the same back. "The self-appointed boss."

Her laughter floats on the clear night air, straight into my head, where I'm giving the sound permission to live rent free. Then she jogs across the street and hops up into the passenger side of my two-door F-150. "Thank you for the ride. And before you apologize again about what happened in the shop, don't. You read the room correctly—I was flirting a bit. I guess I thought it was safe to flirt with you because you're my brother's best friend, and you'd never be interested in me that way. Under other circumstances, I would have reacted differently to having a good-looking man press me up against the door of a car. It was just unexpected from you."

"It was unexpected for me, too. I don't do hands-on without permission. I don't know what possessed me to do that with you, of all people. You were practically my little sister when you were a kid."

"But I'm not a kid anymore."

"No, you're definitely not." It takes all my willpower to keep my attention on her face. Even sitting beside me in the semi-dark, it's still plenty clear she's all woman now.

"So…we're good?" She raises her eyebrows at me while buckling in. "No more apologies, no awkwardness. We acknowledge that I was just being a flirty girl, and because you're only human, you couldn't resist me, but it was a momentary lapse in judgement on both our parts."

I chuckle under my breath while resuming driving. "Sounds about right." Especially the part about being unable to resist her. My reaction to her was instinctual. Automatic. Not like me at all.

"I'm glad. I'd hate for a single stupid moment to come between us now that we're old enough to be friends."

Friends. That word would normally be like an ice bath. The ultimate dick shrinker. It's having zero effect on me right now. Being in the truck cab with Isabel, surrounded by the light scent of her perfume, my mind replaying how soft she felt against me for those few seconds in the shop… Shrinkage is definitely not my issue.

"Single stupid moment already forgotten," I lie, keeping my eyes on the road. "How about you?"

"Same. I don't even know what moment you're talking about."

When I glance over, she looks relaxed and unfazed. The opposite of my internal short-circuiting. She must've been telling the truth about just being the flirty type and thinking I was in the safe zone. I should be relieved.

"Is this the same truck you had before I moved?" she asks, running her hands over the upholstery.

"It is. Ninth gen F-150. The last year they made this style."

"They all look the same to me."

I shoot her the side-eye. "They're not all the same."

"It's cute how you geek out about car stuff. Still, you never wanted something different?"

"Why would I?"

"Because you could have whatever truck you want. Don't you ever just want to change vehicles because you're bored with having the same one forever? Out with the old, in with the new. That's what people do."

"I don't want something new; I want this truck. I take care of it, I know everything about it, and it never lets me down. It's comfortable and reliable and beautiful, and I still enjoy the ride every time I get in. I'm not interested in other trucks."

"Wow, Cam. That's so romantic. I hope you and your truck will have a long and happy life together."

"Good one, little brat."

"Not so little," she says, settling in against the backrest. "Puberty gave me more than the standard allotment of curves. Then the freshman fifteen got me during college, and invited fifteen more hip-hugging friends, all of which stayed, as I'm sure you noticed during the moment that never happened."

The urge to tell her she's the perfect size is on the tip of my tongue. If she were any woman other than Isabel Burns, I'd look over and let her know how much I loved the way her full hips felt in my hands. That her softness makes me so fucking hard. That I've taken every possible opportunity to check out her juicy round ass and my palms are itching to squeeze it.

But I won't tell her all that because she's not any other woman. Not someone I can have a quick, hot fling with. She's my best friend's little sister. Off-limits to me and not interested in me. Double whammy. So, I clench my jaw and say nothing. Do nothing. Just drive my friend home.

What would've been an hour-long walk is a ten-minute drive. I haven't been to the Burns' place since Tony moved out. The house Isabel spent the first twelve years of her life in is looking pretty rough, even in the dim light of near dark.

Tony doesn't say much about his parents—never did, even back when the split happened—but it's no secret around town that his dad is an alcoholic with a history of spending more on booze than he can afford. Somehow, Edward Burns managed to hang on to the house. But it couldn't have been a great homecoming for Isabel, coming back to find it so rundown.

Isabel is out of my truck the moment I stop in the driveway. "I'll see you tomorrow, shortly after five o'clock." Standing on the asphalt with one hand holding the truck door open, she points a finger at me. "And don't start with me about not needing a babysitter. The only way you're getting rid of me is if you find a replacement."

"Pretty sure you're the only person who wants the job." And definitely the only person I want to have it. "Have a good night."

She closes the door, waves, then moves toward the side door of the house, waving again before unlocking it and disappearing inside.

Simultaneously relieved and disappointed to watch a woman walk away. First time for that sensation. Fuck.