Page 11 of Filthy Player

I stepped up to the desk, grinning down at her. She hadn’t moved a muscle except to tilt her head back, looking me straight in the eye as I walked closer.

“Paige Halloway, I assume, of Halloway Motors?”

Halloway Motors was the closest garage to where my truck broke down. A quick look at the info on my phone had told me a Sam and Paige Halloway ran it. I’d smacked myself for thinking about the Paige I’d met the night before just because a similar woman’s name was on my phone screen.

“Paige?”

She cleared her throat and pushed away from the desk. “Yeah. Sorry, you just took me by surprise. How can we help you?”

“We?” I looked around the garage. She’d said multiple times last night she wasn’t available. I assumed it was because I was being a dick. Not because she was literally, unavailable. No ring on her left hand, though…trust me, I always checked. My back pulled tight. “Are you married?”

I saw the moment she debated lying. Eyes slid to the left, lips curled up on one corner.

“No.” She shook her head. “Not married. This garage is my dad’s, was his dad’s before. Like I said, what can we help you with?”

“Not sure.” I didn’t know shit about trucks except that when my hood started smoking, it was most likely coolant leaking. Maybe. It’d also been making some strange clunking sound. Whatever. “Truck’s been acting up the last couple weeks. Started smoking this morning on my way to practice and I dumped some water in it to get it here. Your garage was closest to where I was.”

“Okay. Let’s go take a look, then.”

Her? “You?”

“Yeah.” Eyebrows shot up with a vicious look in her eyes. So I sucked at hiding my surprise. “I’m going to take a look under your hood. Gotta problem with that?”

I had a few things she could check under my hood…or hers…or whatever. A pretty woman and a messed up morning made me stupid. “Uh. No. Not at all.”

“Keys?” She held out her hand and took them when I offered them out, cupped in my hand so she had to touch me. One little touch was all I wanted. Just to see if the chemistry I thought was there was real.

Instead, she gripped them daintily between her finger and thumb.

Which said enough. She was afraid to touch me.

Considering I’d insulted her at one place of business, I had no intention of insulting her in another. I did want in those tight jeans she was currently sporting even if I was wise enough not to say it.

Didn’t mean I didn’t watch her ass swish and sway like she belonged on a runway while she walked a step ahead of me.

We headed outside, and as she hopped into my truck like she owned it, and then popped the hood, my dick grew harder with every second that passed.

Hot damn. My new favorite thing? A woman who knew her way around an engine, especially when she had to lift on her tiptoes and bend over to see inside.

Visions flashed in my mind. Multiple ones. Some so disturbingly and instantly vivid I stepped back and turned, adjusting myself so she couldn’t see the obvious bulge growing inside my thin athletic pants.

Of all the damn days to run into Paige.

My phone rang in my hand and I pulled it up, immediately cursing. I’d forgotten to call to let someone know I was running late.

“Sorry,” I said, even though she hadn’t paid me a lick of attention since we reached my truck. “Mind if I take this?”

Her head, buried in my hood so all I could see was her wavy brown hair clipped back at her forehead, shook back and forth. “Not a problem. Do whatever you need.”

There were multiple things I needed. One was her. With her greased up hands wrapped around my dick.

I cleared my throat and answered the call. “This is Beaux.”

“Where the hell are you?” Powell barked in my ear.

“Fuck, sorry man. My truck broke down on the way to practice. I’m getting it looked at.”

“And you didn’t call anyone because…?”

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