CHAPTER FOUR

 

NEVER. SEE. Her. Again. That’s what he’d said, right? No business going upstairs. He’d done his good deed for the week, even found her prone-to-wander cardigan. Myah said her thanks, he’d been on his way. Check.

That’s why it bothered him that he trekked up four flights of stairs the following evening, intent on the far side of the floor. He needed to ensure she’d serviced the car. Yeah, that’s right.

His brother would get a kick out of this, ask why he hadn’t suggested Myah bring the nightmare of a car to their garage.

Well, then he’d have to explain why he didn’t work there. Couldn’t work there. Wouldn’t, according to his soon-to-be ex-doctor. People, he could handle. It was the, “Yeah, doc, it’s in my head. How do I get rid of it?” that he couldn’t deal with.

Keir moved along the aisle, lightly scratched and tapped his fingers on the dividers as he went, his ears peeled to the familiar setting. Same three or so people staying late on this half of the floor. Same phone conversation that had nothing to do with work. Same layer of sweat coating him after he’d taken the stairs.

Tearing down and tying up the coveralls, he made it to the far side, rounded the corner, and headed to the second… Empty. Keir froze. No quick smile with inner calm to greet him. He shifted is gaze to the computer; it was on, things were scattered about, the chair faced out.

Overhead cabinets prevented him from seeing beyond the aisle where he stood, but footsteps headed in his direction.

The crown of Myah’s head appeared in the main aisle. Loose, long curls framed laser eyes that beamed into him. Grey dividers veiled the lower half of her face, so his view concentrated on those hypnotizing eyes, fueling him with some sort of strange anticipation for her to turn the corner.

Stupid, but ohhh-hoh-hoh, man. His vision travelled from the ground up on pure male autopilot. Low black heels, teasing black ribbed hose that played peek-a-boo through a slit in the side of a grey skirt, and one nicely fitted black v-neck sweater. He hoped his blink and nervous twitch went unnoticed.

A stapler hung in her fingers, which she swung up to fasten the papers in her other hand where a multitude of silver bracelets draped her wrist. “Hey.” The clack of the stapler woke him.

“Hey.” Trance broken, he shuffled aside to let her in. “What are you up to?”

She shrugged as if to tell him ‘nothing special’.

“Just came to see what you’re up to.” Did he just repeat himself? He tucked his fists under his folded arms and leaned against the opening to watch her file the paperwork. His brain scrambled for a topic of conversation.

“You’ll be happy to know I still have a functioning car,” she said. The sly glance and flash of a smile told him he’d been forgiven for whatever misdemeanor he’d done yesterday.

“I saw. Coming in early gives you about the same parking spot every day. Easy to locate. Any trouble?”

“No. Thanks for asking.”

When she turned to her computer, he didn’t feel blocked out this time. She closed a couple of screens and it went to sleep before she turned back.

He checked his watch. Five-twenty. Good to know in case he made it up here too late one day. For what? He didn’t want to return since he had no business above the third floor cafeteria. Not even then, his crew usually used the first floor break room.

Keir dismissed his idea to return, even as he took in the smile stretched on those distracting, perfectly shaped lips. Glossy. He travelled upward. Her eyes held reserve, but neat how she got the green stuff on her lids to make the light brown irises dazzle. Her skin almost glowed. Did he recall all the cosmetics and details these past couple of nights? Whatever. Hadn’t paid attention, he supposed.

He rested his arms atop the cubicle opening. “Like I told you yesterday, I aim to please. Kind of tough when you don’t listen.”

“Oh, that.” She chuckled deep in her throat. “I’m glad you feel that way, because—and I hate to ask—but I need a mechanic. I hope you can recommend a place if you know someone trustworthy. I find chain shops overpriced.”

Walked right into that one. Yeah, his brother would belly-laugh right about now. But Myah probably wouldn’t want to travel to gritty Austin to get her car repaired. She may be surprised to know the Treasure family had run its auto shop in the notorious black neighborhood for nearly twenty years. He’d call in a favor with the service guys here, one of them ought to know of a place in the area.

“I may know of one or t—around here? Where do you live?”

She hesitated. “Um. I’m in Rogers Park.”

Nice neighborhood, nice clothes, smelled nice—the scent of his own sweat and grease permeated his nostrils, and he lowered his arms and stepped back—but Myah drove a shoddy car. Probably on a tight budget.

Slowly he checked out her clothes again. Dressed for an after-work date, would be his guess. The fact that she had no connection to a mechanic screamed she had no boyfriend or dependable male around to ask such a question. He finally raised his gaze to dubious, frowning eyebrows. Had he been on the creepy side of checking her out?

“Your brother, or—ahem—” What was up with his throat? “—boy…uh…boyfriend. He’s not able to help you find one?” Clearing his throat again, Keir studied her reaction to his clumsy question.

“My brother lives in Michigan.” She looked down, her eyes shifted.

He couldn’t see the coloring, but the expression on her face told him she had become flustered, and blushed. Really? He maintained a straight face though pleased as pie he figured that one out.

“And there’s no one special to speak of—look. Forget I asked.”

“I didn’t mean anything negative by it,” he overlapped.

Chair creak. Glance down the aisle to hottie number two smiling and showing him a glimpse of thigh below a short skirt.

Haylan may forego laughing at him to stand stunned with raised eyebrows. A roomful of women and Keir wouldn’t take either.

He may have a thing for brunettes, but he wasn’t so far up the church pew that he couldn’t read the score. More than a few practice runs gave him sense to know when a woman was ready to throw away her pride for a so-called ‘good time’ only five minutes after meeting. And he hadn’t even met her.

He fumbled his attention back to Myah. She and Leather Skirt couldn’t see one another, but a pang of guilt went through him at her colleague’s actions. That’s probably what prompted the look of, “are you paying attention to me, or did you come here to see her?” stillness of Myah’s face.

Perhaps he should take on her car to save his once-more tarnished reputation. He scratched his arm and blurred his vision to focus on the throb building inside his brain. He shouldn’t feel guilty. A pretty face never guaranteed his interest in a woman, whether she was willing or not.

He focused on the not, ready to answer her question. “I’ll ask around. I guess you want someone in the area. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Don’t go out of your way to make it happen, car man.”

Since he couldn’t sit still, going out of his way had never been a problem, but he didn’t like the tone in which she’d muttered his free pass to split.

He watched her rise and stand as tall as her five-foot-whatever gave her. She probably thought he’d step back and give both her and her ticked attitude some space. Well, this is new. He’d meant no disrespect, but he wouldn’t back down no matter what sort of aggression she’d strut.

Her ‘no one special to speak of’ may be around the corner to fill the boyfriend slot in that after-work date. But as long as she’d turned to him for help on her car, he would see that business through and not be scared off with an impatient glare. Besides, he’d already had to jumpstart the special handiwork her brand of choices brought about so far.

The tilt of Myah’s head and the stern jaw said to shove over. She was a little bit of a thing, shapely curves and all, but barely over the rise of the cubicle in her shiny heels, not even a flood-sack worth of weight soaking wet. He caught himself giving her figure the once-over again and grinned at her ridiculous challenge.

“I’ll get you your mechanic, car girl.”

The nervous shift in her eyes said she blushed again. Now this woman piqued his interest. Myah didn’t play the tough cookie very well. Engaging, yes; studious; tough when needed, but jelly.

Her gaze strayed a few desks down to Leather Skirt, who promptly rolled back into her cubicle. “I’m grateful for your help. I don’t take that kind of thing lightly.”

Something told him she still had his payment sitting in her top drawer, maybe ready to offer it again if he mentioned he needed a hand. But he had no intention of guilting her into accepting his services.

“It’s all about me. Think of how I’d feel if you got attacked by coyotes or Big Foot because you got stuck at the side of the road. I’d have to answer a bunch of questions, print flyers, organize a search party. You know the hassle. I might as well do the job now since I can’t be bothered with all that.”

A dull smile twitched her lips. “I appreciate it.”

He nodded. After a glance out the far window, he had another brainwashed idea. “Let me walk you out, it’s almost dark.”

He studied her face while she glanced out the fogged window seeming to think about it. Then she sorted away her work in drawers and the overhead bin, tidied the desktop, threw away a candy wrapper, and gathered up her belongings.

She dumped water into a small plant, tucked her cell phone into her pocket, crouched, slid out a pair of flat shoes from under the desk, and changed into them. This set her a couple of inches shorter. Now she barely cleared his shoulder. He grinned again and backed up as he took in the heart shaped face musing and challenging him to complain about how long it took for her to get ready.

“Right this way, ma’am.”

“Good night, Amy,” she called as they turned out of the cubicle.

He’d forgotten about that one. He looked up in time to see the brunette’s high ponytail swing as she rose to watch them leave.

“G’night, My. You know you gotta’ kiss that boy for me.”

Myah grumbled something he couldn’t make out as he stuttered over his feet to match the hundred meter dash she set for the elevator.

“How is your son anyway?”

She looked defensive, then her face lit with a smile as they got on the elevator. “He’s excellent.”

“How old?”

“Twenty-one months. He doesn’t like to get out much, but I’m working on it.”

“You know, you have this look in your eyes. The same proud look my brother gets whenever he talks about his daughter.”

“You have a niece? How old is she?”

“I have two nieces and two nephews, but I’m closest to Neely who’s four. The cutest thing since Elmo if I do say so myself. And I may have to hurt you if you argue with me on that.”

Myah grinned. And what’s this? The cheeky thing opened her mouth and mimicked like she would argue. He laughed. He’d have to watch this one. Good grief.

After he warned with a don’t even try it eyebrow, her lips pursed, eyes mischievous as ever. Oh, yeah, he’d watch her, all right. Funny woman.

He reached out to rescue a lock of hair tangled in her large hoop earring. The sharp turn of her head took it away. The movement told him to keep his hands off, but when she looked back, a miniscule twitch of her lips said thanks. His hand still hovered near her cheek where he’d been frozen as carefree grace faded from her features. He withdrew his hand and curled his fingers before he shoved them into his pocket.

All the oxygen in their confined space sucked out through the closed door. Myah faced forward to watch the overhead numbers, breathed deep, and exhaled through her mouth. Keir’s skin tightened and prickled over him. He turned forward, too, not even knowing what changed the atmosphere. That wasn’t awkward. In silence and muted breaths they waited for the elevator to touch down.

On the ground floor, they waved at Billy on the other side of the elevator bay who started his rounds. They exited the back entrance. Keir trailed behind, watching her closely as they neared her vehicle.

“Drive careful, okay?”

“I will. You know, I really do want to get my car fixed and not put Dylan in danger. No child should have to risk his life for his parent’s mistakes.”

The statement hit him on a deep level. On the surface, he hid his relief that she did give thought to her predicament. She’d spouted off quite a list of ailments yesterday, but he hadn’t gotten behind the wheel for a feel, or to give an adequate assessment of the engine. He didn’t like to guess on these things. “Does it feel like it’ll cut out while you’re driving?”

“Sometimes.”

He hid amusement as he remembered the atrocious sight and sounds when she’d changed gears. May not be the car, My. In his line of work, he learned to sometimes blame the operator.

“Do you think you can find a place with a decent payment plan?” She grimaced and paused all motion in expectation.

She really would make him feel sorry for her and take on the work himself. Fairly certain Billy hadn’t talked about him, or that Myah met up with his coworkers, she’d have no idea he was a fully licensed auto mechanic. One scared to death of his patients.

He’d never get behind the wheel of a road-moving compact car for anything. “Yep.” Trying not to recoil at his thoughts, he told her that he’d try to find a garage.

When they stepped to the driver’s side, Myah pulled out her keys then did a double take on him as a rain-scented gust blew across them. “It’s freezing, aren’t you cold?”

He chuckled in reply and pulled open her door. She should have been there the winter the heat cut out in the garage and the repairman took forever to fix it. Cold; couldn’t feel it after a while.

He closed the door after her and leaned on it, intrigued as her smile turned to a bottom lip nibble. Curled lashes blinked her gaze away. He really needed to get the creepy staring thing under control.