5.

D UB

“Whoa, boy,” I said as I gently pulled on the reins to get Hercules to stop in the big patch of grass across the gravel drive from Elizabeth’s house. I tied the reins to the saddlehorn and then slid down off Hercules’s back before I pulled a long lead rope out of the saddlebag and attached the clip to his halter. Once I had the lead rope secured to the post, I waited for him to nudge my chest and then scratched on either side of his jaw until he let out a big sigh and took a step back. “Be good, buddy. I won’t be long.”

As I walked away, I heard Hercules sigh again and laughed softly at the sound. If I let him, he’d follow me into the house and stand sentry at the foot of my bed at night. It irritated him to no end when I tied him up somewhere and walked away.

I heard metal music coming from the garage, so I followed the sound of the screaming woman’s voice and then stopped in surprise when I walked around the corner. Elizabeth was standing with her back to me, looking into a massive rolling tool chest with more drawers than I had for my clothes at home. I had to admit I was feeling a little equipment envy but what really struck me was what she was wearing.

I’d noticed how tall she was at my sister’s house the other night and appreciated her height while we were talking on the walk to her house and again while we were perusing the aisles of the store where we stopped on our ride. However, since she’d been dressed modestly in a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, I didn’t have the opportunity to admire just how fit and lithe her body was.

It was a work of art.

The tight-fitting tank she wore had a good expanse of her skin showing below it - brightly colored tattooed skin that I wanted to inspect every inch of to read the stories they were trying to tell. When she lifted her hands and put them on her head in frustration, the flex of her biceps showed an impressive muscle structure, and what I could see of her side gave me a glimpse of even more muscles.

The skintight workout shorts she was wearing molded to her curves and showed hips that curved out just enough to highlight her waist and an ass that looked firm enough to bounce a quarter off of. That ass . . . Oh, that ass . . . led down to strong thighs that looked powerful enough to crush a man. I found myself dying to volunteer as tribute.

I finally came to my senses and realized I was being a creeper pervert and called out her name. She didn’t even flinch, so I called out a little louder to try and be heard over the music. My voice just mixed with the intense drum beat and guitar riffs. I walked about six feet into the garage and stopped to call out again, but when she still didn’t hear me, I walked close enough to reach out and touch her shoulder. I had a split second to realize my mistake before the first hit to my jaw made me see stars. With the second hit, I felt myself start to tilt, and the third was enough to turn the lights out.

“Shit! Dub! Wake up, big guy. Come on. I see your eyes fluttering. Look at me so I can apologize to your dumbass. You can do it, buddy. Wake up, now.”

I opened my eyes and looked into eyes so dark, they were almost black and a face that was full of concern for me - the man sprawled out like a starfish in the middle of Elizabeth’s garage in the eerie silence that was almost louder than the music had been.

The reprieve was short-lived, and over the intro of the next song, Elizabeth yelled, “Can you focus?”

I blinked a few times and then moved my jaw around to make sure the pain wasn’t signaling that it was broken. I ran my tongue over my teeth before I spit out a small piece of my molar. I moved my tongue around and found another small sliver, and when I took a breath, the cool air passed over my teeth and pain shot along my jawline.

As I assessed my injuries, including the throbbing at the back of my head, probably from where I’d hit the floor like a fallen tree, the music stopped and Elizabeth’s face appeared over mine again.

“Oh, shit!” Elizabeth pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and the worried expression on her face was almost comical. “Did I break a tooth?”

I turned my head and spit out another sliver of my tooth and resisted the urge to spit out the blood filling my mouth. Instead, I brought myself up to a sitting position and shook my head to clear it before I got my legs under me and stood up. Without saying a word, I walked over to the doorway and leaned forward to spit into the grass a few times to try to clean out my mouth.

Suddenly, a bottle of water appeared from behind me, and I took it so I could rinse my mouth out. I winced at the pain when the cool water touched my broken tooth and swished a few times before I spit it out into the grass. I did it a few more times until the water was clear and my mouth didn’t have the metallic taste of blood, and then I straightened up and took a deep breath.

“If you’ve never fought in the ring, that was a missed opportunity and we should get right on that. I’ll be your promoter, and we’ll make a fucking mint when you wipe the canvas with every opponent that’s dumb enough to go up against you.”

“I’m trying to consider that a compliment, but it’s a little difficult while I’m feeling so bad.”

“I walked up on your blind spot and should have known better,” I admitted as I rubbed my jaw. “Fuck, Karen. You’re a goddamn powerhouse.”

“My left is a lot weaker than my right, but you should see what I can do with my legs.”

I closed my eyes and swallowed because the image in my mind had nothing to do with the octagon unless the only two people inside it were me and Elizabeth and she was naked as she rode me like a jockey set on the derby title.

“Oh my goodness,” Elizabeth squealed in excitement before she darted past me. “There’s a pony in my yard!”

“A pony?” I asked incredulously as I looked past her at Hercules.

“Look at him! I want to touch! I’m going in!”

“Holy shit,” I muttered as I watched her power walk over to the fence line where Hercules was tied up.

“Can I pet that dog?” Elizabeth chorused just like that sound bite that seemed to be on every social media app lately.

“The woman is fucking nuts.”

“Huh?” Elizabeth asked over her shoulder, although she kept walking toward the massive beast that she insisted was a cute little animal. “What did you say?”

“That’s not a pony, Elizabeth,” I said incredulously, offended on Hercules’s behalf. “That’s one of the largest horse breeds in the world. Last time we measured him, he came in at over two thousand pounds.”

“He’s just a big sweetie,” Elizabeth said in that tone of voice women used when they talked to dogs.

I was happy to see that she had the good sense to stop well before she got close enough to touch him, although, since she was obviously a stranger to horses, that was still too close for comfort. However, I knew Hercules’s temperament was such that he wouldn’t hurt her unless she spooked him or hurt him first.

“I swear to God, that man on TikTok is right. White women ain’t scared of shit,” I said as I passed her and grabbed the clip on Hercules’s bridle.

“Can I touch him?” Hercules sensed that the woman in front of him was going to be the source of great scratches and probably more than a few treats, so he took a step in her direction as he lowered his head. “Oh, look at that big schmoopie baby. He needs some scratchies and lovin’.”

Hercules whinnied, and I didn’t blame him. Even though my jaw was killing me and I could feel it swelling by the second, watching her fall in love with my horse was almost as sexy as the fact that the powerhouse of a woman had just finished kicking my ass and still managed to look like the cover model on the front of a fitness magazine.

As Elizabeth hesitantly began to run her hand over Hercules’s muzzle, he whinnied in pleasure, and I realized that I was suddenly jealous of my horse!

“Any chance I can get an ice pack?” I asked petulantly.

“Oh! I totally forgot about your face. I apologize, but for future reference, I have to suggest that you not sneak up on me like that again.”

“Really? You think?” I asked before I pressed my lips together so more sarcasm wouldn’t spew out and hurt her feelings.

Elizabeth shrugged one shoulder and then made a tsk sound before she said, “Stupid actions have consequences, Kevin.”

“If you weren’t listening to some woman caterwauling like an imitation of Satan’s trumpets . . .”

“Pfft! That was Morgan Lander, and on behalf of her and the entire band, I’m going to just say that you can kiss every delectable inch of her highly talented ass while you fuck right the hell off with your uncultured self.” Elizabeth looked irritated when she asked, “What do you like to listen to? Chopin? Mozart? That whooshing sound that happens between your ears when you try to form a thought?”

My sore jaw dropped open in shock, and Elizabeth laughed at me. She was still giggling when she patted my arm and said, “Come inside, and let me get you a woobie.”

“A woobie? ”

“For your little boo-boo.”

“You punched me in the face!”

Elizabeth smiled before she said, “Three times. Knocked your ass out too. Better remember that before you sneak up on a girl again.”

I ignored her and asked, “Can I let my horse hang out in your corral while you doctor the grave injuries you inflicted?”

Right before she turned around, she nodded and said, “Yep. The poor fella needs a woobie.”

◆◆◆

As irritated as she made me, it was hard to keep my eyes off of Elizabeth as she searched through her toolbox. She’d been muttering under her breath for at least ten minutes, so I finally asked, “What exactly are you doing?”

“I’m looking for the 10mm socket. I swear the damn thing grows legs and walks off when my back is turned.”

“I get that, but I’m asking what you’re doing to this heap over here.”

Elizabeth’s body was motionless as her head slowly turned until she was looking at me over her shoulder. “This heap? ”

I gestured toward the truck with the hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack to my jaw and said, “What would you call it?”

“A work in progress!”

“You have a perfectly fine vehicle, so why are you working on this one?”

“Because I want to learn how to fix it.”

“I know Colorado Springs isn’t exactly a booming metropolis, but we do have mechanics in town. Several good ones, in fact.”

“Don’t be condescending about something you don’t understand, Kevin. It’s not a good look for you.”

“Something I don’t understand?” I asked through my laughter. “What makes you think I can’t work on an engine?”

“Because if you could, you’d know that this heap is a classic and will someday be a beautiful truck that . . .”

I laughed even harder and said, “It’s got more rust than metal, sweetheart. If you want to learn to rebuild an engine, why don’t you do it on a vehicle that’s worth your time?”

“I’m not just rebuilding an engine, sweetheart. I’m going to fully restore it. Once the engine is finished, I’m going to start on the body.”

“By yourself?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“Because knowledge is power, and that’s something I can’t get enough of,” she said distractedly as she stepped onto the stool beside the front tire and peered down into the engine compartment. “Where the hell did the 10mm go?”

As a mechanic myself, I knew her pain and had felt her confusion, but I didn’t tell her that. Instead, I took the opportunity to watch her wander around and inspect every inch of her workspace and then walk back over and step on the stool again.

When she pushed herself up with her hands and bent over to lean into the engine compartment, leaving her ass in the air and her legs splayed the perfect width for me to fit my hips between, I almost swallowed my tongue. I’m sure the only thing that saved me was the swelling in my jaw since I couldn’t actually swallow correctly right now.

“Aha! I found it!” Her cheers turned into frustrated grunts as her legs started swaying back and forth trying to find traction to help her out of the engine. Unfortunately, she was stuck with her top half being heavier than her legs, making it difficult to push herself out.

Fortunately, from the angle where I was sitting, her position was absolutely perfect and an image I’d never be able to scrub from my mind no matter how many times I tried to wash it off in the shower.

“Eeep!” Elizabeth’s squeak sounded frantic, and she grunted a few more times before she asked, “A little help here? Please?”

I set the ice pack on the bench beside me and got up - not moving as fast as I would if this were a true emergency.

And it wasn’t. She was fine and could probably figure out how to get out on her own if she had to. No, it wasn’t an emergency, but it was purgatory.

Because now, besides the images in my head of her spread out like that in front of me, I also got to feel the smooth skin of her legs as I hooked my hands between her thighs and the truck to help lift her up so she could get out, which put my face so close to her ass that I had an almost irresistible urge to bite it and had to start reciting the books of the Bible to get my mind out of the gutter and back to the situation at hand.

Elizabeth grunted again before she said, “Nope! That’s not working. You’re gonna have to get closer and reach in.”

Reciting Bible books in order wasn’t working, so as I slid my hands up her sides to reach down to lift her up, I switched to a hymn I’d learned as a child. Once I had a good hold on her, I started to lift at the same time she pushed. Suddenly, I had her ass against my chest, and her body slowly . . . ever so slowly . . . slid down mine until her feet hit the stool, and she was molded against me from shoulder to knee.

She rested her hands against the truck and turned her head to look over her shoulder at me, putting our faces so close together that I could feel her breath on my lips. Those gorgeous brown eyes blinked, and then she swallowed so hard I could hear it over my heavy breath.

Without thinking, I leaned just a fraction closer, ready to settle my lips on hers, when I heard a whinny and the sound of hooves on the concrete.

The spell was broken, and Elizabeth jerked out of my arms and spun around to look at the open bay door.

“There’s my schmoopie! How did you get out, big boy? Come give me some lovin’.”

I rested my hands on the fender of the truck and calmed my mind for the next few minutes by going through an imaginary Rolodex in my head to try and find someone . . . anyone . . . who might like to own a horse because Hercules was now dead to me.