Page 4 of To Belong Together
“I’ll save you the trouble. If it needs doing, do it.” That ought to convey that he trusted her and wouldn’t hound her for a chance to talk again. He might feel pitiful, but he wouldn’t act like it. “See you around, Erin.”
His ego ground into the asphalt with each step toward Philip’s SUV, each step she didn’t call out to say that she’d reconsidered the coffee date.
So, that was how easy it was to get shot down when he was known only as the guy with a president’s name and a squeaky car.
Erin could tella lot about a man by his car, and John Kennedy was no exception. With his vehicle above her on the hoist, she angled her flashlight to inspect the suspension.
Before they’d pulled out of the lot, his choice in car had told her he was practical and reliable, to a degree, but his rims and stereo said he dropped piles of money on things that mattered to him. Now that she’d gotten a closer look, she’d also found modifications to improve power and handling. Those, on the sporty edition of such a new car, indicated he was well-off or had mountains of debt.
As for his love of dogs, the nose prints on the windows had told her about his pets before he’d mentioned them. Otherwise, he kept the interior impeccably clean.
Dogs scared her, and who knew where John’s finances stood, but overall, she’d liked him. She’d never relished the idea of having to bend down to kiss a guy, so he’d earned points by being taller than her own five foot nine. The man’s facial structure hadn’t hurt either. Who knew she’d be a sucker for cheekbones?
His light brown hair had outgrown its cut enough to curl at the ends, but he was fit, or at least lean, which she knew because his winter coat wasn’t the puffy kind that would hide extra weight. Plus, he hadn’t heard her call his name. With how often people complained that she was loud, she liked evidence to the contrary.
But she couldn’t date John Kennedy.
If Roy and Sam, her cousins, got wind of her seeing a customer, it’d be all of two seconds before they started claiming customers only let her work on their cars in hopes of landing a date.
As if.
Most men saw her as either one of the guys or as unworthy to compete on the job, not as a potential love interest.
Except, apparently, John Kennedy.
But most things that seemed too good to be true were just that.
Something was off about a handsome guy who would ask her out on the spot. Maybe he’d guessed not many men took an interest and assumed she’d be flattered enough to go along with whatever he wanted.
“Whoa.” Roy wasn’t usually stealthy, but she hadn’t noticed him move in to stand nearby, under the car. He peered into the oil pan.
Erin lowered her flashlight from the leaking struts that had caused the squeak and stepped over for a look. Based on the golden shade of the oil that had drained, John made a habit of frequent oil changes, often having them done early.
More points in the responsible category, which added to what he’d earned by having snow tires on those fancy rims of his and by keeping his car unusually clear of salt.
She shrugged and returned to work. “His sticker said he could’ve waited a while, but he asked for it.”
“Figures. This is the squeak guy who wanted a ride-along, right?”
Erin didn’t bother to answer, and Roy wandered back to one of his own stalls.
John’s request that his technician ride with him to hear the sound was how she’d gotten saddled with him. Aunt Connie had explained that a ride-along wasn’t necessary, but he’d insisted, so she’d come back with the paperwork.
“We’re too busy,” Roy had said.
Sam hadn’t looked up from the timing belt he’d been tinkering with all day. “Erin’s better with customers.”
True, but only because she wasn’t a Neanderthal. The real reason her cousins wouldn’t take the job was because of the test drive. They’d pegged John Kennedy as a high-maintenance customer who’d eat up their time when they could be doing easier, better-paying jobs.
Jobs Erin wouldn’t get because Aunt Connie always saw things her sons’ way. She’d promptly presented Erin the paperwork.
Erin finished John’s oil change and lowered the car. The struts would have to be ordered, and she’d need the hoist in the meantime.
She got behind the wheel again. The interior smelled like its owner. Cedar or pine mixed with a warmer scent she couldn’t place. When the car started, the stereo display lit up. She tapped the screen, but the song he’d silenced so quickly on their test drive didn’t play. Too bad. She hadn’t known the melody, but the voice had sounded familiar. After his comment about loud music, she’d thought they might have similar taste, and she’d wondered if he knew of a new release from one of her favorites she might add to her playlist.
She had work to focus on, anyway. With a deep breath, she shifted into reverse.
After parking, she stopped to see Connie about ordering the parts. Her aunt wasn’t at her desk, so Erin sat to do it herself.
