Sexy Stranger Read online

  “Charlotte,” a voice called out as I walked down the sidewalk toward the auto repair shop.

  I turned to find Molly chasing after me, leaving her brothers waiting by the front door of the restaurant. I stopped and let her catch up.

  “I’m real sorry about Luke,” she said. “He’s usually not so uptight. I’m not sure what got into him.”

  In the sunlight, I could see her resemblance to her brothers. The same sun-bleached brown hair and sweet smile. But where the twins’ eyes were green, hers were brown, and she had no dimples. She was a pretty girl with a good disposition, probably the kind of person I could—or at least, should—be friends with if the circumstances were different.

  “It’s all right,” I told her. “You don’t have to apologize for him.” Looking over her shoulder, I sneaked a quick glance at the jerk. Our eyes locked for a moment, but I quickly looked back to Molly. “He’s a grown-up. He should be able to handle himself.”

  “I just wanted to welcome you to town. Hope you don’t think we’re all assholes,” she said with a chuckle, and I smiled back.

  “I don’t.”

  “Good.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I hope I see you around,” she added before hurrying back in her brothers’ direction.

  As nice as making a new friend would be, I was hoping my time in Shady Grove was close to over.

  • • •

  I’d been in this little town all of an hour, and already it felt like hell. After my car had coasted into Shady Grove making an awful screeching noise, I’d parked it at the only gas station I saw, which was also an auto repair shop. Unfortunately, a sign posted on the door read Closed for Lunch.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I said to the attendant behind the counter. I’d been so happy when I got back from my own lunch and found that the little repair shop had reopened. My relief was quickly dashed by the woman running the register.

  “Wayne’s out today,” she said.

  I assumed she was referring to the Wayne of Wayne’s Auto Repair, as the sign on the outside of the building stated.

  “Could you call him?” I asked as politely as I could.

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “Okay . . .” I waited for a better explanation, and when it wasn’t forthcoming, asked, “Why does that matter?”

  She chuckled. “Wayne doesn’t work on Sunday.”

  “I’ll pay him to work on Sunday.”

  The one thing I had been sure to pack when I left New York was the black AmEx card my parents had given me. They might not be my favorite people at the moment, but I had no problem spending their money if I had to.

  “Honey,” she said, leaning over to rest her forearms on the counter that separated us. Her graying blond hair was set in curls from what I assumed was a perm, and the realization of just how out of place I was started to set in. “Let me put it this way. Wayne doesn’t work on Sunday because he’s probably been drinking since Friday. He’d be useless today. And the Longhorns kick off in about fifteen minutes. There’s a better chance of that pretty little car of yours fixing itself than getting Wayne to come in today.”

  “Maggie,” I said after glancing at her name tag. “Are there any other mechanics in this town that work on Sunday?”

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head and offered her sympathy with a half smile. “Wayne’s the only mechanic in town.”

  “That’s just great.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face, hoping that maybe this was all just a dream. When I opened my eyes and the fluorescent lighting and Maggie’s apathetic face greeted me, I knew my reality was much worse than I’d thought.

  “What should I do?” I finally asked.

  “There’s a little bed and breakfast—the Willow Inn—a few blocks that way.” She pointed out the window of the station. “Maybe get a hot shower,” she suggested. “Relax.”

  I nodded, trying not to cry out of utter frustration. The last hour had been eventful, and not in a good way, and now it looked like I was spending the night in Shady Grove whether I liked it or not.

  “Wayne comes in early, so as soon as you get up in the morning, you come on down. He’ll help you out.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered, unable to muster up a smile. Not that she’d helped much, anyway.

  I started to push through the door and set off for the B&B she’d recommended, and then glanced back in her direction.

  “How far of a walk is it to the inn?” I looked down at my cute suede booties with their five-inch heels. “Should I call an Uber?”

  “A what?”

  “You know, like a driving service? Or maybe a cab?”

  Maggie’s laugh came up from deep in her chest. When she recognized that I wasn’t amused, she paused and composed herself. “Oh, bless your heart. We don’t have anything like that here. Besides, it’s only a half mile down to the Willow,” she assured me.

  I thanked her with a nod and saved the eye roll for when I was alone in the parking lot and gathering my belongings from my car. No Starbucks, no Uber, and not a mechanic in sight.

  What kind of hell did I stumble into?

  • • •

  “Their names are Luke and Duke,” I told Valentina over the phone. After I’d checked in and gotten settled in my room, I’d wandered downstairs and found a comfy chair in a secluded spot of the living room. The sun was starting to set on this day, and tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

  “Seriously?” she said with a chuckle. It was the same thought I’d had when I’d pieced it all together on my walk home. “Twins named Luke and Duke. That’s so country.”

  “Isn’t it?” I laughed.

  The finish line was in my sights, and the thought of being in this town for any longer than I had to was nauseating. Besides that, I had a new life to start living. When I’d packed up and started off on this adventure, I told myself it was a new beginning. But at the moment, it felt like I was in a purgatory of open cornfields and hot, arrogant assholes with muscles to the moon and back.

  “Just breathe for me. You’ll be here in a couple of days, tops.”

  “I know,” I said, feigning enthusiasm.

  It’s not that I wasn’t excited about getting to Valentina’s—she was the only person who’d ever really understood exactly who I was. No, it was the fifteen hundred miles that stood between here and there that had me down.

  I checked my reflection in the antique mirror hanging on the wall. The demands and expectations I’d endured had left a serious mark on me, and had apparently started me down the path of early aging. Twenty-eight was far too young to feel so beat down.

  Nothing a little West Coast sunshine won’t clear up.

  With my fresh start so close, I hated the idea of any more delays.

  “It’s too bad one of them was such a jerk,” I added. “They’re not too bad to look at.”

  I hadn’t been able to shake the image of Luke staring at me. As annoying as he was, he’d ignited a spark of attraction that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. It had to be a result of my last relationship, the one where I was underappreciated and often ignored. My libido had apparently taken Luke’s aggression as attention and decided to fire back up.

  “You would find the only hot twins in the middle of nowhere.” She chuckled. “I can’t wait for you to get here. It’s been too long.”

  “I saw you a week ago,” I said. “You know, right before I walked out on . . .” I searched for the right word, but there were so many that would finish the sentence. Everything. My parents. An entire guest list full of people. My guaranteed future of privilege.

  “Don’t even say it,” Valentina said. “You’re moving on, remember? Moving forward.”

  “Well, I’m not moving forward at the moment,” I reminded her. “Currently, I’m stuck.”

  “Yeah, but you’re stuck in a town with hot twins, so quit complaining.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes at the smirk I was
sure she had on her face. “Fingers crossed my car is fixed tomorrow, and I can get back to moving on.”

  “Fingers crossed,” she repeated before we said our good-byes.

  I hung up my phone and placed it on the arm of the chair before picking up the magazine I’d started reading before Valentina called.

  “Did I hear that you met the Wilders?”

  Opal, the front desk clerk who’d checked me in, interrupted me right before I found out exactly what happened between the latest celebrity-couple split. I looked up from the pages and found her standing in the archway that separated the lobby from the living room.

  “I did,” I said. “Wasn’t impressed.”

  “They’re good people. You must have caught them on a bad day.”

  “Maybe. I did like Molly. And Duke wasn’t terrible.”

  “It’s a shame what they’ve been through.”

  She turned to walk away, but I was intrigued.

  “Wait . . . What have they been through?”

  Opal stopped and turned back to face me, her eyes full of sadness. “Their momma ran out on them when they were just babies. And their daddy may as well have. He really tried, but the man just couldn’t put down the bottle.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Those boys had to grow up real fast. Taking care of Molly, running the family business. It was a lot to handle, but they’ve done the best they could.”

  My heart clenched as I thought about younger versions of Luke and Duke trying to take care of Molly.

  Opal gave me a smile. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to bring down your evening. Just thought you might want to give them a fair shake before you wrote them off. And their full names are Lucas and Daniel,” she added. “Luke and Duke are just nicknames they picked up along the way.”

  Chapter Three

  Luke

  “Morning, Wayne,” I said as I stepped inside the repair shop bright and early Monday morning, greeting the old bastard with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I knew he was about to screw me on the price of a new hose for the Chevy. Damn truck had been in my family for two generations now, and was showing her age.

  “Where ya been?” he asked, pulling his head out from under the hood of a fancy foreign car. “I’ve had your part waiting since Friday.”

  Sleek lines, perfect curves . . . the car had to be Charlotte’s. The brazen little minx had been on my mind since my run-in with her yesterday. Wanting to avoid a repeat performance, I came to the garage early to pick up my part. Didn’t peg her as an early riser.

  “I got tied up with a leak in one of the drums,” I told him. “The entire place was a mess before we found it. Took me and Duke all weekend to get it cleaned up.”

  “That’s a damn shame,” Wayne said. “I hate it when good liquor gets spilled.”

  “You and me both.”

  It was more about the dollars that were spilled than anything. Duke and I were so close to being in the black that we could practically taste the profits. It would be a nice change since our father had done his best to run Wilder Whiskey into the ground.

  “Whatcha got here?” I asked, walking over to take a peek under the hood. I thought I knew the answer, but damn it if I didn’t ask.

  What was it about this girl that had me so curious? I knew enough about her to know that I didn’t particularly enjoy her company, but I hadn’t been able to shake those blue eyes from my head. Or the sweet curve of her ass as she walked down the sidewalks I’d practically worn out over the years.

  It’s because she’s shiny and new, dumbass.

  Charlotte was the first fresh blood we’d had in this town in a long time. My ex-girlfriend was the last, and I always hoped she would stay that way. The last thing I needed was a repeat performance of that shit show. I knew for damn sure I couldn’t handle it.

  “Something I never thought I’d see in this place.” He moved over to give me room and pointed at the engine. “You know anything about Audis?”

  “I know they cost way too much,” I said with a smirk. “A hundred grand, I think.” I tried to recall exactly what Charlotte had spouted off at What the Cluck.

  “Well, shit,” Wayne said. “I’d better put on some gloves.” He wiped one of his greasy hands down the front of his overalls.

  “It was actually a hundred twenty thousand,” an all-too-familiar sarcastic voice offered. “If you want to be specific.”

  “I’d say you paid too much,” I said, turning to find the early riser.

  Charlotte stood there in a simple white T-shirt, ripped-up denim jeans, and Converse tennis shoes. At first glance, it almost looked like she fit in here in our small town, but I had a pretty good idea that her outfit cost more than the Chevy part I was here to pick up.

  “Good thing I didn’t pay for it,” she said with a smirk.

  “I figured.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She crossed her arms across her body, inadvertently shoving a pretty spectacular set of tits up even more than they already perkily sat. The deep vee of her T-shirt wasn’t hiding much, and I was appreciative of that.

  I looked over at Wayne. He was pretty appreciative of the view too.

  “Are you saying that I couldn’t buy myself a car like that?” The steam rolling off her was just as sexy as the cleavage.

  “Relax, Charlie,” I said, feeling my cock twitch behind the zipper of my Levi’s. The hold this girl had on my attention was as frustrating as hell. “I’m not saying that. I just figured that it was a gift.”

  “Oh, so you were assuming. You know what they say about that?” She laughed, repeating my question from the day before.

  “You’re right.” I held up my hands in surrender. “It was wrong. I apologize.”

  The satisfied smile on her face was enough to earn my apology. In fact, a string of ideas ran through my head about all the ways I could earn a few more of those smiles. I’d use a whole lot more than my words. I’d start with my mouth and hands, and then work down to the part of my body that was currently bogarting more than its fair share of my blood supply.

  “Glad we could work that out.” She breezed by me and extended her hand to Wayne. “I’m Charlotte Freemont. You must be Wayne.”

  “I am,” he said, grabbing her hand with his greasy paw.

  Both Wayne and Charlotte dropped their gaze to the connection between them, and I couldn’t help but laugh. One was mortified that he’d forgotten about the grease, and the other had probably never been dirtier in her entire life.

  “Oh, this is great,” I said, leaning up against one of the other cars that Wayne had in the garage. All I needed was popcorn.

  “I’m real sorry.” Wayne quickly pulled a clean-ish rag from his back pocket and handed it to her.

  “It’s fine.” Charlotte frowned as she swiped at the grease on her hand. She glanced back at me, and I sensed she was doing her best to rein in that stick-up-her-ass New York attitude. “Just tell me you can fix my car.”

  “I can,” Wayne said proudly.

  “That’s great.” She beamed at him as she returned his rag. “Today?”

  “Well . . .” Wayne shoved the rag in the back pocket of his overalls and rubbed a hand on his neck. “’Bout that . . .”

  “Come on,” she pleaded. “I’ll pay you extra if you have it done today. I really need to get out of here. I’m supposed to be in LA.”

  Of course she is.

  Wayne shook his head. “Honey, even if I wanted to, I don’t have the part I need.”

  “Where is it?”

  “On its way from Amarillo. Should be here tomorrow. Wednesday at the latest.”

  “So, Wednesday.”

  “Not quite. Then I have to put the part in.” He glanced skyward as he considered. “With this new engine component, it’ll probably take me a while, and then I have to put the whole thing back together. Maybe Friday.”

  “FML.” She let out a h
uff and rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, come on, Charlie,” I said, hoping to defuse the tension. “This place isn’t that bad.” That statement in itself earned me a glare.

  “It’s Charlotte,” she reminded me.

  I knew exactly what her name was, so I just shrugged.

  “You seriously can’t have it done any faster?” she asked Wayne after she finished shooting daggers in my direction.

  I knew as well as Wayne that if he really wanted to, he could have her car done by Wednesday. I could see the dollar signs in his eyes. If he stretched this job out long enough, he could charge a pretty penny for labor. Maybe it would serve her right for owning such an expensive car. There was nothing modest about it and clearly screamed she had money to burn.

  “You can work faster than that,” I told Wayne, stepping up by her side. “Just because you can take till Friday doesn’t mean you have to.”

  “What are you doing?” Charlotte frowned at me, her confusion now laced with agitation.

  “Helping you out.” I flashed her a grin. See, I can be civil. Helpful, even.

  “I don’t need your help,” she snapped. “I can buy my own damn cars, and I can surely negotiate a deal to get them fixed.”

  “I just thought—” I started to tell her that I knew a guy in Austin who could have the part in and installed well before Friday, but the girl just couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

  “I can take care of myself. I have a degree in marketing from Yale,” she spat out. “And my family runs one of the largest firms in New York City. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”

  “Okay then.” I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to lose the cool I’d been so desperately trying to keep. She wasn’t making it easy. I had a business to run, and the last thing I needed was to get mixed up in her drama.

  “Thanks for the part, Wayne.” I gave him a nod as I grabbed the hose off the counter by the door. “Send me a bill.”

  I didn’t even bother looking at Charlotte. If she wanted to take care of herself, she could do just that.

  • • •

  “Son of a bitch,” I muttered, trying to get the new hose into place. After the third try, I tossed it on the ground and stepped away from the Chevy. Frustrated, I kicked up some gravel from the driveway as I paced alongside the rusty old truck and slapped a hand on the fender.