5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Jake

I wiped the grease off my hands with a stained rag and gave my shoulders a roll. I'd been under a hood all day, and I was feeling it. It was time to get out of here, grab some food, and go home.

This week was coming at me hard and fast, and it was only Monday. I never left the garage without cleaning my tools, though, so I got to work polishing the ones I'd used.

"Anyone have ten minutes to spare to change a couple brake lights?"

I looked up from my tools, finding the kid—Dante—swiveling his head left and right. The mechanics scattered around the shop, pointedly not looking at him. Dante's voice carried. No doubt he had been heard, everyone just had full plates, and they weren't looking to add another thing that would slow them down.

I wasn't the only one looking forward to crashing at home.

"Dante," I called, motioning him over.

He jogged toward me, but it was so slow he should have walked. "What's up, boss?"

I cringed at the title. To me, "boss" would always be my dad. "It's just Jake." Dante nodded, but he didn't appear convinced. "I was about to ask you the same thing. What's up with you trying to pass off work?"

"No, no." He waved his hand. "It's not like that. I was on my way out, but there was a customer who needed help, so I stayed to assist her. She's pretty clueless about her car. No idea how to change out the lights. I told her I'd ask if anyone could do it. I would, but I really do have to blow out of here."

I tossed the rag aside. "I'll do it, no problem. Good job helping the customer."

He cocked a grin. "She said she was going to tell my manager I need a raise."

I chucked. "Keep going the extra mile, and I can see that happening. Where is the customer?"

He nodded toward the attached store. "In the front, wearing a red dress. She's got a little girl with her. Chatty as hell. You can't miss 'em."

"Got it. Get out of here for whatever you're chomping at the bit to do."

Dante hightailed it the moment I'd finished talking. If I were a betting man, I'd put money on him having a date.

I stopped to wash my hands. There was no scrubbing off the gray stains from beneath my nails, but I managed to get them relatively clean before heading to the front.

The woman in red was easy to spot, but Dante hadn't done her justice in his barely-there description. Her plump, heart-shaped ass and wide hips filled out her dress just right. Almost as well as—

Nah. Now wasn't the time to start thinking about my biker fantasy woman. Who knew if or when I'd see her again? Filling my head with thoughts of her very fine ass would only serve to drive me crazy.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I heard you need some help."

Her shoulders became rigid at the sound of my voice. If I hadn't been watching closely, I might've said they'd jumped with surprise, but no, it was a snapping of muscles.

Tension.

My attention was drawn several feet down to the tiny girl at her side waving up at me.

"Hi. Mommy's car's broken. I'm Nellie."

Wide brown eyes, silky chestnut hair, round little cheeks—Nellie was the picture of cuteness. Her big, bold voice belied her diminutive size. She must've been older than she looked.

"Well, let's see what I can do to fix it, Nellie. I'm Jake."

"Hi, Jake." She poked her mom's leg. "This is my mommy."

The woman slowly spun to face me, and I took my time raking my gaze up her softly rounded figure, the familiarity of it making my head fuzzy.

Then I got to her face. Same brown eyes as her daughter. Same silky chestnut hair. But her plush lips were the only round place on her face. The rest was sculpted. High cheekbones, pointed chin, straight, refined nose…

CeeCee was as gorgeous as the picture I held in the back of my mind, but this version didn't look like she'd step foot close to a motorcycle, let alone ride one to a biker bar.

Her cheeks flushed, stirring my gut. That part of her I recognized.

Alarm bells rang in my skull, and I went on high alert. "What are you doing here, CeeCee?"

"I—Jake?" She tucked her daughter slightly behind her, but Nellie popped right back out, her head swiveling between us, trying to discern what was happening.

"Yeah. Did you track me down?" I asked tightly.

We hadn't done last names or details. I'd allowed her to lead on that, but that wasn't to say I hadn't agreed. I was all about keeping complications low, and as good as she looked, her showing up at my shop wasn't what I'd signed up for.

She scoffed. "No. Does it look like I expected to see you?" She gestured to her pink cheeks and then to her daughter, who was wrapped around her leg. Her voice dropped, low and pissed off. "If I were to go hunting for a man, I would never involve my daughter."

My defenses softened. This wasn't ideal, but I believed her. CeeCee walking in tonight, the one day I worked here, was a coincidence. Whether it was a good one or not had yet to be seen.

"All right. I get you." I held my hand out, and she glanced at it. Horror melted her expression, and she scuttled back a step. I shook my hand at her. "The lights, mama. If you want me to change them, you're going to have to give them to me."

"Sorry, I—" She shook her head, taking a moment to compose herself. Once she had, she handed over the boxes, her eyes meeting mine. "I'm sorry. I obviously didn't expect to see you or get accused of stalking, so I'm a little thrown off. If you could replace my lights, that would be wonderful."

"No problem. It won't take any time." I nodded toward the door. "Lead the way."

"Thank you," she said firmly. Politely. As if we were strangers and I didn't know exactly what every inch of her body looked like. I probably deserved that, though, after, as she'd said, accusing her of stalking me.

I followed her out to her SUV, immediately taken aback when I realized it was a Porsche. I hadn't priced one lately, but from my estimate, it ran in the six figures.

I'd figured this woman had money. Her leather jacket was high quality, and the bag she carried was some designer I remembered an ex coveting. Plus, her skin, hair, and nails were well maintained—and not by some walk-in shop in a strip mall. Her wealth was in the details.

I hadn't taken the time to ponder the level of rich the woman in my bed had been, but now I wondered where she went to work in her little red business dress. What kind of power did she wield?

My dick twitched in my pants.

"I wanna watch!" Nellie yelled.

Right. Now was not the time to get hard.

"I could use an assistant."

I popped the back hatch, and Nellie held her arms up. Without thinking twice, I picked her up, plopping her down in the empty trunk space. Her mother made a gasping, choking sound, but I ignored it, getting to work on her lights.

I started to show Nellie what tools to use to remove the taillight then glanced over my shoulder to make sure CeeCee was watching too.

"You might want to pay attention, so if this happens again, you can do it yourself."

She shifted from one foot to the other. "My father takes care of my car maintenance."

"You should know how to take care of yourself so you don't have to rely on anyone else. Look where that got you this time."

Her mouth flattened. "Can you please fix my lights without adding your opinions on my personal life?"

Nostrils flaring, she looked at me like I was just some random mechanic here to service her. I wasn't a fan.

Had I met this version of her a year ago, I wouldn't have looked twice, and I certainly wouldn't have gone back to that bar, again and again, to spend the night in her sheets, devouring her from her pretty head to her soft, baby-pink-polished toes.

I gave her my bland customer service smile and tipped my chin. "That I can do, ma'am."

Turning my back to her, I went to work on the lights, Nellie my captive audience. Her mom might've been a snob, but it hadn't worn off on Nellie yet. She was sweet as could be and friendlier to a man she didn't know than she should've been. She was my kid; I'd be wary about how open she was with a stranger.

Not that I was a danger.

I liked kids well enough, and this kid was cooler than most.

Once I got the lights unplugged, I let Nellie use my screwdriver. For a small thing, she was pretty dexterous, getting the hang of unscrewing a bolt right away.

"All right, little miss. You're a natural." I held up my hand, and she slapped it eagerly.

Behind us, her mom huffed. "I appreciate you showing her the basics, but her granddad can give her lessons on the weekends if she wants to learn."

I glanced back at Uptight CeeCee. "Is this you telling me to work faster?"

She tucked her shiny hair behind one ear. "No. Well…not exactly. I'm telling you you don't have to worry about teaching her. You can just do the light and—"

"I hear you. You want outta here."

She didn't correct me or say I was wrong, and the fact of the matter was I wanted out of this situation too. Awkwardness wasn't my jam, and we were up to our ears in it.

Still, I'd promised Nellie I'd teach her how to change a bulb, so I narrated what I was doing. She sat on her knees, watching every step, nodding along like she understood.

It was cute as hell. I hoped her mom appreciated what a bright little girl she had.

Once I got through replacing both lights, I wiped my hands on the back of my coveralls and scooped Nellie out of the trunk.

I patted her head. "Nice to meet you, Miss Nellie."

"Yeah! I'm going to have noodles now."

Despite the thick air around us, I chuckled. "All right. Enjoy your dinner."

CeeCee stepped between us, taking Nellie by the hand. Her eyes flashed to mine, something resembling panic swirling through the deep brown of her irises.

"Thank you so much for helping us." She grazed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. "I just realized I only paid for the lights and not your labor. What do I owe you?"

My jaw went rigid, and I took a beat to inhale. "Don't insult me with a question like that." I tapped the roof of her vehicle. "Get your girl home. She wants her noodles."

Without sticking around for her reply, I strode back to my shop, where things made sense.

There was a saying about never meeting your heroes—they should have also said never meet your fantasy in real life. Disappointment weighed on my shoulders. How could a woman who burned so hot be so cold outside the bedroom?

If I'd had more time on my hands, I might have tried to find out who'd done her so wrong she'd grown that thick, icy facade.

That wasn't me, though.

I did not do complicated.