CHAPTER TWO
MYAH RECOVERED by the time the man reached a few strides from the bumper. She strained to see his face, he looked no older than she. “Hi.” Surely they’d moved past the awkward introductory phase. “Keir, is it? Thanks for coming.”
He flipped a slim flashlight in his left hand as he approached and ticked one shoulder to display no hassle. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
He offered a small smile, something which tugged one from her. She’d love to see more of it, but light posts in the rear lot were few and far between. And she hadn’t parked near one.
As he moved up her side of her car, she couldn’t help but check out the height of him. Not six feet, though close. When he came within a few steps she noticed a possible scar on the right side of his chin; this, and deep set eyes, gave interesting character and depth to the dusk-shadowed face. He rested a hand on the car top, ran curious eyes over her, and after a while, tentative eyebrows rose into the dark fringes of hair and cap.
He tapped the flashlight against his thigh and looked around. “Uh. Can I...can I get to the hood release, please?”
What? “Oh! Right! No, I did it already.”
He nodded. Drummed his fingers on the rooftop. One side of his lips tugged into a part smile like he thought ‘good girl’, and Myah’s ego did a stupid, good-girly thing. He rounded both her and the car door to the front where he unhooked the hood and disappeared behind it.
“Let me hear how it sounds,” he called from around the barrier.
She tucked herself inside and turned the key to hear the familiar click. And again. Click. Then she came out to see if this guy really knew what he was doing.
Keir had the slim flashlight in his teeth, one hand skimming over the engine, the other buried deep within. She didn’t know when her eyes turned to him in the glow of the flashlight, but he looked calm, concentrating.
His gaze flicked to her. Inside she jumped at being caught staring at him and not the machine.
“Six months, huh?” he lisped around the protrusion. His features remained unchanged.
She nodded. “One of those auto auctions. I guess I got my money’s worth.”
He chuckled. A warm sound, bringing her to the receptive tone she’d heard on the phone. Too bad he didn’t come in a taller package, one thicker, ten shades darker, and shaped in the protective brick wall of a baseball or football player she admired. Still, something endeared her to a man who could work with his hands.
Hands that must be freezing. She didn’t understand how people worked without gloves when dealing with frigid metal objects. And not with tonight’s wind chill.
Keir spit out the flashlight to train it around. “Who’s the mechanic who took you?”
“A friend of my brother.”
“Should have fixed it up before he handed it over.”
“That was up to my checkbook. I just needed it on the road. Bare essentials.”
He pulled his left hand out and wiped it on his thigh. “I hear you. It happens.” Without looking, he removed the rubber tops from the battery. “I’ll give you a boost, see if that helps. But take it back in, get it checked out properly before driving anymore. Six months shouldn’t do this to an engine.”
Dare she say it had been on the road for only two after she got the insurance? “How do you know needing a boost isn’t the problem?”
He looked down, flashing the light over the box. “It’s clean. Nothing’s preventing it from getting juice, and the connections are secure. Of course other things factor in, but it doesn’t matter. Take it to your mechanic. He needs to do his job.”
She couldn’t explain to a stranger that the friend lived out of state and had done a favor for her persistent half-brother. She’d just needed someone to go with her and he’d been visiting friends. Her vacation last week drained the rest of her savings. This week’s paycheck needed to go to the mortgage.
Myah let out a light growl. When Keir’s gaze danced over her before returning to the engine, she hoped it sounded more on the playful side than crazy-woman. She ground her jaw and tried to work miracles with her bills. The extra hour and half of work for the next little while did more than allow her to catch up on missed labor. Despite her vacation pay, she needed the money this inconvenience promised to produce. She couldn’t turn around and spend it all on her vehicle.
Keir thumbed over something else in the cold rubber and metal, then mumbled about getting cable, and came back driving a dark, double-cab pickup. It looked no younger than her vehicle. But then again, if he knew cars, it drove ten times better. He nudged the truck perpendicular to hers, giving them enough illumination through the running-lights.
He came out, nearly colliding into her side when she absently stepped into his path to check out the inner workings under the brighter light. He eased his way around, looking down at her steadily as he passed. Myah got the feeling he thought she did it on purpose.
Pl-ease. She didn’t play vulgar games like doing a cheap body-brush. She nevertheless stayed dutifully at the side to let him work, and to get a better look at him in the truck’s lights in the process.
The sure and unhurried movements surprised her, perhaps because he’d been called away from his schedule and most people would want to get the sidetrack over and done with. Why hadn’t she seen him before? Anyone would remember his face and becoming attitude.
“What do you do here?” she asked as he connected grips.
He looked at her, then down at his gray overalls before returning to the engine. “Electromechanics. Servicing.”
Embarrassed at the obvious clue, she nodded like she’d received important information. “I’m not keeping you from anything vital am I?”
That simple smile could have pierced the dark if it hadn’t already been illuminated in the truck’s lights. “It’s fine.”
“I don’t want a supervisor getting you in trouble.”
“Don’t worry about it. He’d be fine.”
She did worry over it. He wore the DRU-Med overalls, but delivery service techs usually wore the khaki shirt and pants. Grey meant a different level for whomever worked on the assisted-living, mobile, and medical apparatus.
Even so, the company contracted electricians or vehicle mechanics during the busy season. They were headed there now.
“I want to thank you for coming out here anyway, and taking the time.”
“No problem.”
“I’ve never seen you here before. Are you on call, or did you just start?”
The side of his lips quirked, his head tilted as if in thought as he led the other end of the cable to his truck. “Just over a year.”
She assessed him from the side. “A year? You work the night shift?” She shrugged. “I suppose I’ve never seen you because I’m usually out the door lickety-split. You start at six o’clock or something?”
He peered over his shoulder.
“I know, I know. Twenty questions.” She raised her eyebrows then clicked her gums before turning to hide—as if she could—from his blank gaze.
“Four,” he answered.
“Four. That’s when I normally finish.”
She turned to smile at the far-fetched something they had in common, only to realize he hadn’t stopped staring, probably expecting the drill to continue. After long seconds he turned to the task at hand.
All hooked up, he leaned opposite her against his grill. “This isn’t lickety-split time, what are you doing here? Banking overtime?”
“More like catching up from being away all last week.”
“Vacation?” At her nod, his arms folded across his chest and he ran his tongue over his teeth like he had to assess the circumstance.
“North Michigan.” As if a far distance validated her absence. “I haven’t had one in a few years. Not that this one was a real vacation. We had to go this time, I suppose. There are so many other things I would rather have done, like watch paint dry, than return to…” She heard her mouth about to volunteer personal information to a stranger, and censored that she’d gone to see family. He didn’t need to know all but one of them lived out of state.
One arm unfolded from his chest to jab a finger in skepticism at her car. “You didn’t drive this thing, did you?”
“Hey.” She laughed at his fretful expression. “It’s not my first car, I know enough not to trust this to make that kind of trip.” She ran her fingers over the fender. Perhaps she could have faith it would take her to the end of the year. “Truth is, I’ve only been driving it for two months.”
His eyebrows crunch and he sucked in a hiss of disbelief. Then his face relaxed and brightened as he chuckled with her. He moved around his bumper shaking his head. After climbing into his cab, he brought the engine to life, a minute later, sank into her car’s seat to turn the key waiting inside. The sweet sputter put a broader smile on her face. Yes.
“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver!” She bounced on her toes then watched him pack up the electrical umbilical cord.
He stowed it under the bed’s fiberglass cover, closed their hoods, and switched off his engine. The last to go were the lights, setting them in near darkness except for the dome light of her car.
Moving to the rear fender, he flipped/twirled the flashlight. “All right, TwoMonths. Drive easy out there. You may want to take it to a garage tonight to see what they can do.”
She glanced up at the heavy dark clouds ready to leak any second. “No time. I have to pick up my son. I’m running late as it is.”
Keir swung a key ring around a finger and dropped it into a pocket, the flashlight sliding into the other. His mouth set itself in a line and he blinked. Did he just frown when she mentioned she had a son? Man, he didn’t even know her and he acted like a kid was the curse of the black woman. Men. Typical. She wasn’t ashamed of her son. Not ashamed to say she had one. Whatever his type of idiot thought of single mothers, remained his problem.
She shifted from one foot to the other. “So, I’ll skidaddle and—”
“Yeah. Sounds like you got stuff to take care of.”
She stared at him for a second. Whatever nice thoughts she had a minute ago vanished. Well, he could go on with his skinny self. If he noticed she gave him the don’t-mess-with-me mother’s stinkeye, he didn’t react.
When she sank into the driver’s seat, the door quickly followed her closed. Now he snuck back to shut her in? He hadn’t slammed it, but it seemed final, like he’d told her to get out of there already. A half wave, almost the ‘five’ sign, sent her on her way before he did an about-face and walked away.
KEIR stalked towards the building. She had a child. That was all right. But children usually came with daddies. And that wasn’t all right. What self-respecting man left his woman and kid to drive around in a crap car like that?
It’d never be right, and he’d seen enough in his trade to know the trend. The guy drove a great car and made his wife or girlfriend work hard to pay for it.
Keir rubbed his forehead to ease his headache and squinted against the throbbing pain. Myah didn’t seem like the type to put up with nonsense. He’d noticed how she stood alert when he first approached, as if she thought he’d mug her or something.
But if he wasn’t mistaken, she didn’t like that he’d closed her door for her. Maybe chivalry was dead. Whoever Boyfriend was, he’d need to get his act together or risk getting the scowl he’d just received.
Keir winced from his headache as he chuckled and now thought that her stiff demeanor may have been more fear than attitude. Like how her hair had fallen over an eye and hidden her face when he’d squeezed passed her earlier. For a second he’d sensed her discomfort at the brush, though he’d tried not to make their bodies collide.
He ran the complete image in his mind. Eyes that sparkled when they picked up light, and the quick smile; the loose twirls of her hair, how they twisted passed her shoulders. Yeah, he went for longhaired brunettes. Why he picked that flavor, he had no idea. But he liked running his fingers through the strands. Haven’t done that in years.
Underneath Myah’s soft-looking cascades he’d caught a glimpse of three sets each of a stud and dangling earrings in her ears. He rubbed the shell of his own where his had closed up. Myah’s leather jacket, nice dark jeans, and heeled boots were a contrast to the quality of car she drove. Good taste versus downright cheap.
Dirty Boyfriend at work, he guessed. He’d seen people try to look the part with no money to back it up. Hers may have been a good car if someone had taken care of it. Shot now.
He rattled the keys in his pocket as he caught a scent which clung to him from the car. Looking or smelling fine wouldn’t save anyone if that car broke down or the brakes failed. Take care of what’s important.
Slowing his pace to turn and walk backwards, Keir rubbed his cheek against his shoulder to cool an itch. He watched her exit the lot, grinding gears—good grief—as she went. Having trouble driving a stick, ma’am?
No one could say Keir Treasure didn’t bleed for abused engines. He would ask her about it when he saw her again—no. He wouldn’t.
Won’t what? Ask her? See her?
He chewed on his lip.
…nah.