Page 41 of Suits and Spark Plugs

“I’ll figure something out,” I replied.

“Good luck and stay warm,” he said.

“Thanks.”

I hung up and dropped my head against the steering wheel. My hyperactive horn blared, startling me back up into a sitting position. Oops. I put the car back in drive and pulled onto Main Street. I’d just drive past the shop and see if they had power. If they did, then I’d think about possibly, maybe considering stopping there. If they didn’t, I’d go back to my house.

It was with very mixed emotions that I glanced over at the shop and saw that they had power. Rats. I drove past once, circled around, and pulled into the parking lot. Despite my earlier thought process about the ozone, I idled for five full minutes before Connor opened a bay door and came stomping outside in his coveralls. He yanked my door open and bent down to eye level.

“Stop being dumb. I have power and it’s warm inside.”

I swallowed and nodded. His brusque manner had settled me in a way that kindness wouldn’t have. “Okay. But all the rules are in effect.”

“Fine. Rules, whatever. Just get out of the car. It’s freezing.”

I turned off the engine, grabbed my backpack, and followed him through the front doors into the lobby as he signaled an employee to shut the big bay door he’d left open. A wash of warm air rushed over my face and it felt wonderful.

It took me a moment to realize he was watching me but hadn’t said anything. I blushed. “I need to study and I’ve been everywhere else. I even called Blaine about going to Springfield to study at his place.”

“The pass is closed,” he replied.

“Yeah.” I shivered.

“The office is empty. Let’s get you warmed up.”

He led the way. In the smaller room I put my backpack on a chair and rubbed my hands together. Connor went back into the storage closet, where I could hear him moving things around before he reappeared with a space heater.

“This should do the trick,” he said.

I immediately perked up. “I’ve never been so happy to see a space heater.”

“You’re welcome to study as long as you want. It’s a slow day, so I was planning to send my guys home in a minute. It’ll just be me in the shop. Make yourself at home.”

I thanked him and he left as I settled in for some serious warm study time.

About two hours passed before I was interrupted by a middle-aged man coming into the office. I was startled enough to sit up straight. He seemed equally startled but recovered quicker than I and greeted me with a smile.

“I didn’t expect to find a pretty girl curled up in the corner with a book.”

By the time he’d finished I recognized him as Connor’s father, Ken. His build was the same, and his smile was obviously something he’d passed down to his only son. His hair was more brown than Connor’s auburn, with charming streaks of gray.

“Hi, Mr. Hunt. I’m Liv Phelps. I clean once a week and study here sometimes.” I smiled up at him from my seat and tried to forget that my head was wrapped in a scarf and I was wearing a pajama set with snowflakes.

“I remember you. You were a lot smaller the last time I saw you, though. I know your parents. How are they?”

“Good,” I replied out of habit.

“Good, good. I suppose Connor is out in the shop?”

“Yeah. I guess so. Haven’t seen him for a while.”

“I’m right here, Pops.” Connor’s voice entered the conversation a breath before he entered the room.

Ken turned to his son and smiled. “I see why you’re so anxious to be at work all the time if this is what’s waiting for you.” He gestured to me.

I huffed, doing my best to play off words that suggested some sort of bond between Connor and me. “Trust me, he’s not here because of me.”

Ken grinned. “Is that so?” He looked to Connor.

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