Page 11 of Dare You to Run
“It’s a family name. What kind of name is Dare?” she challenges back.
I clench my jaw and give her the same smirk I gave her when I caught those eyes wandering over my body. “It’s a family name.”
She yanks her hand free from mine and says, “I have a couple of things I need to get from my car before you leave.”
“What? You afraid I’m going to steal something from you, princess?”
Her eyes turn to little slits as she glares at me. “What is your problem? Did you wake up with your dick in a grinder? I’m sorry if you did, but that’s no reason for you to take it out on me. I’m a paying customer and I am more than happy to call someone else if you can’t handle the job.”
I stare at her silently, fuming that she spoke to me like that. I’m also kind of turned on that this spoiled brat doesn’t backdown to a good word spar. I can’t even really say why I’m acting like I am. It’s not like me to be so rude, especially to women. But something about her has my blood boiling.
Without a word, I walk over to her car and pull open the front door as it is easiest to get to. I look at her and hold out my hand, indicating that she should get what she needs before I change my mind and slam the damn door on her face.
She stomps her way to me, keeping her eyes locked on mine the entire time, and I watch as the sun shines off of them, lighting up a prism of greens. She rises up on her toes and reaches inside. Not gonna lie, I take a good long look at her tight ass in those tiny shorts. It’s so round and perfect and I imagine what it would look like bare and laid over my knee.
A throat clears and I see Kins watching me with an arched brow and arms crossed over her chest. I curl my lip and snarl, but it does nothing to scare her. I don’t know that McKinsley Sawyer is afraid of anything.
“Got it. Thanks,” Dagen says, and quickly struts away.
“We’ll see ya at the shop,” Kins shouts out, and I give her a thumbs up.
“What the hell is that guy's problem?” I hear Dagen ask Kinsley.
“Oh, he’s just sour because I told him he needs to smile more and quit lookin’ like he just smelled a fart.”
Dagen snorts out a laugh and I do everything I can to hide my smirk. Kins is always good for a chuckle.
I watch them climb into that old blue clunker and before they drive off, Dagen looks out the window at me and her face softens. I try to turn away, pretend I’m not staring, but it’s useless. The girl with the hypnotic eyes is going to be my downfall. I just know it.
FOUR
Kinsley’s truckpulls up to a black building with the wordsDARE Bros Mechanicsin the same neon blue as the truck on the front. There’s no contrasting trim color. The only color on the building aside from the bright blue letters are the four silver chrome garage doors, two of which are rolled up. Inside the bays are vehicles being worked on by a few guys, and loud music is spilling out.
The engine stops and I can suddenly hear again. Between the loud diesel engine and Kinsley’s country music, we spent the drive yelling at one another just to hear what was being said. We arrive before the tow truck so I sit inside the cab.
“Come on, silly goose. You don’t wanna wait here. Let’s go inside. Henny always has cold soda and snacks in the back room. And before you say anything, no I am not allowed in the back room, but go anyhow.”
I shake my head with a smile. If this girl lived near me, I’d have the best set of abs in Magnolia Creek from the workout they’d get with all of the laughter she would induce.
“Does he have a vending machine in there? I could use a chocolate bar.”
“He does, but I know where he keeps the free stuff.” She hooks her arm with mine and struts her brown boots across the pavement.
The door chimes when we walk in and I’m greeted with a sight that is not what I expected of a garage. The inside is white with sleek chrome halfway up the walls. A reception desk wrapped in that same chrome and topped with black granite counters. The motorcycle logo on the outside of the building sits on the front of the reception desk.
Tires of various sizes with various rims are on the wall, along with pictures of cars and trucks. The most impressive wall is the one behind the reception desk. It’s covered in a large vinyl poster with three motorcycles. They aren’t Harley’s like my dad’s and uncles’, they’re sports bikes. Otherwise referred to as crotch rockets.
To the left of the reception area are some low black leather chairs and a chrome table with magazines displayed. With a few plants and a coffee bar, it’s fair to say that I had a very preconceived view of what the inside was supposed to look like.
“Pretty impressive, right?” Kinsley says over my shoulder.
“Yeah. I was expecting stained floors, yellow walls, and a sad lonely vending machine with expired snacks.” She laughs and pulls my arm further into the shop.
“Hey Miss Shirley. How’s it goin’?” We pass the reception desk with a woman who looks to be in her sixties, sitting there, pounding away on her keyboard.
“Hey darlin’. It’s going. You know how it is with those boys.” She presses her lips into a tight smile and shakes her head. “Who’s your pretty friend?”
“Hello. I’m Dagen, ma’am. Nice to meet you.” I walk closer to her and hold out my hand to shake it.
