Page 55 of Fast and Dirty

“If all this crazy shit like running a festival means you’re sticking around, then yes.”

“Then it’s settled,” I give a prim smile. “I’m your girlfriend. So we can have sex tonight without you feeling used.”

He lets out a hearty laugh before kissing my fingers and releasing my hand as our food is delivered. As soon as the server disappears he looks at me pointedly. “I’m still not putting out. I need a little romance every now and then.”

I feel my cheeks pink up at the notion. This ex con mechanic with the dirty mouth gives enough of a shit that he doesn’t want to cheapen what we have by basing the relationship on sex -even though it started that way. And all of a sudden, I’m more than okay with that.

“Sounds nice,” I concede before I dig into my dinner.

Somewhere in the middle of the meal, West gets a far off look in his eyes.

“What?” I ask, setting my fork down. I can tell somethings going on in those eyes.

“I just had a thought,” he says, mouth still full but he hides it behind his fist. “What if the Rolls was finished and on display at the festival?”

“Like to sell?”

“Possibly,” he swallows and nods before continuing. “I could run a silent auction, and if no high rollers come through and bite, then oh well, it at least added a nice visual to the event.”

“And showcase the kinds of things you can pull off at Shane Auto,” I point at him and his eyes widen.

He rests his elbows on the table and crumples a napkin between his hands. “Fucking genius,” he shakes his head. “And, I think I might know how I can kill two birds with one stone with that one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, remember the doucheface that gave you shit over darts?” I nod, and roll my eyes. “I’ve been putting him through sort of a, let’s call it a character-building program in the shop. I’d need to seriously bust ass to get the car done for the festival, but I can enlist his help.”

“So you’ll be pretty busy then, huh?” I ask, pushing my plate aside, trying not to feel my little heart mope in my chest cavity.

“Well, so will you, with everything you’re planning,” he points out. “And besides”—he leans over the table, bringing his face a breath away from mine—“that’s what so great about a small town. I’ll still see you all the time. Besides, if you think I’ll go a single day without that smile you’ve got another think coming,” he promises, before sealing it with a kiss.

21

WEST

“I’m just saying,askher,” Agnes reasons from her folding chair by the garage bay door as I once again, pull the tarp off the Rolls.

“For the last time, Agnes,” I whoosh out a breath as I walk over to her, handing her two of the tarps ends. “There’s no point in asking Kira to include a Hunky Hotties pageant as part of the festival. I already know she won’t go for it.” I explain as the elder woman puts her two corners together and helps me fold the tarp.

“I don’ t know about that, hun. Your girlfriend seems to be far more openminded than you. You never know what she might go for.”

She’s right about that. Kira’s not one bit the rich debutante she was raised to be. Then again neither am I, although I was raised with new money as opposed to old wealth and there could be a difference. My dad’s influx of cash from the racing world didn’t stop my mother from doing something with herself, though. She totally capitalized on the cotillion-based community we lived in with her gown shop.

“And I mean, comeon,” Agnes continues, dragging that lastword over scratchy gravel. “It will be a big hit with the out-of-towners when they see all the man candy this town has to offer.” She sits back with a lazy grin and reaches for her coffee cup.

I’m just placing the folded tarp on one of the corner counters when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I retrieve it to find my sister’s name lighting up the screen.

“Mack,” I greet her after accepting the call and she responds with a heavy sigh.

“Hey,” she groans.

“You alright?” I ask, feeling my brow buckle at her despondent tone.

“No,” she admits, the word sounding begrudging. “I’m at my wit’s end, West. Something needs to happen, or I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Okay, take a deep breath, and tell me what’s going on. We’ll find a way to work through it.”

“I bet you anything it’s man trouble,” Agnes hollers from her makeshift lounge. I turn and give her a pointed look.

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