Page 6 of It's Going to Be a Chrome Christmas
Cayden turned his head over his left shoulder, opposite from where Trix was standing. “How long do I have to stir this for?”
“Until it’s ready, dear.” Peggy walked up to him, placing a hand on his back. “It needs to simmer for some time.”
“This is a bit more complicated than I had meant when I said I’d help you cook.”
Peggy, who noticed Trix in the doorway just then, gave a knowing smile. “The things a man will do for a pretty girl.”
Trixie’s cheeks burned. She couldn’t walk worth a damn in heels, but now she wished she’d worn something a bit louder than her flats. Maybe then she wouldn’t have had to hear Cayden’s reply of, “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Just hope she likes burnt pasta sauce.”
Peggy’s smile widened.
His reply confused Trixie for just a second. When they’d met, she hadn’t beenpretty. Her hair had been a mess, she’d been in work clothes, and her hands had been greasy. Why would he lie and call her pretty? Not just pretty, but theprettiest.
Trixie was not in the mood and stomped into the room before either Peggy or Cayden said more. “I brought cheesecake.”
She plopped the box on the kitchen table harder than she’d meant to. Damn it, she’d probably just smushed the cheesecake.Rather than be embarrassed as she’d expected him to be, as he now knew that his words had been overheard, Cayden turned and smiled.
Her heart skipped. Fuck, how did hedothat? Maybe she needed to take the time to see a doctor this week. Was she too young for a heart attack? Could one pay to have a lobotomy done?
“Trixie.” He said her name like an endearment, like how a lover should whisper “good girl” into her ear. Her cheeks blazed. His mismatched eyes traveled ever so slowly down her, taking in her combed hair, her modest cleavage, her slim hips, her legs exposed by that skirt, and her flats. Her heart pounded like a base drum, waiting impatiently for his assessment. Why did she want him to tell her she was pretty again? Why did it feel like she would die unless she heard those words?
Pasta sauce on the stove forgotten, Cayden approached her. Neither even noticed that Peggy had silently taken up stirring the sauce without a word. When Cayden was just inside her personal bubble, he stopped. Trixie could feel the heat radiating off of him. He wore snug jeans and a baby blue button-up that seemed to accentuate the colors in his tattoo sleeves. His feet were bare, which she had no idea why she liked so much.
Carefully, he reached forward and tucked her long black curls behind her right ear. Then, to her utter horror and embarrassment, he shook his head disapprovingly. “No,” he said softly. “I don’t like you like this.”
Her heart froze, dropping like a boulder in a Warner Brothers’ cartoon. Her face heated, and fuck her, because she felt her eyes start to moisten too. When she went to turn away from him, he grabbed her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. She wanted to break away. She couldn’t risk him feeling her chin trembling, but he held her tight.
Ducking in low, just as he had at the shop, his lips nearly touched her ear. “I like you better when you’re covered in grease and motor oil.That’s the real you, not this dolled up woman before me.”
Trixie’s breath hitched in her throat. Helikedher in her work clothes, sweaty and covered in grease? She’d showered for him! Well, she’d showered for Peggy and the fact that she’d smelled rank. But it had been this arrogant bastard who’d been on her mind when she’d stripped out of her coveralls to jump under the warm water.
That’s the real you…
He’d met her once. Well, twice including now, but only once where it really counted. How could he possibly know that that was the real her, versus how she was dressed now? There was no way. Men don’t assume women are gearheads. Men don’tlikewomen who are gearheads. She’d chosen a profession ruled stereotypically by men. The stupid typecast that women couldn’t change a tire had irked her since before she’d gotten her first period.
She could take apart an engine faster than any of the other mechanics at her shop, and she only hired the best. A penis didn’t make for a better mechanic. It just made for a bigger ego.
He tipped her face up with a crooked finger under her chin. There was about five inches between their height differences. In her limited experience, men didn’t like that she was so tall either. Yet Mr. Cocky Biker obviously didn’t seem to mind. “You look beautiful, Trix.” Her heart thudded at her nickname. Only family called herTrix. She was Trixie, Boss, or Romero at the shop. “Even if you do smell like lavender instead of Mobil-1.”
Her cheeks heated. Damn, how did hedothat?
Needing to get a grip on herself, as well as put distance between them, Trixie ripped her chin out of his hold and crossedher arms over her chest. “Mr. Russo, I don’t believe I gave you permission to touch me.”
And there was that smug smile again. She expected him to say something about her eyes giving him permission, which she honestly didn’t doubt. Instead, he backed away with his hands raised. “My apologies, Ms. Romero.”
“Pasta’s ready!”
Trixie jumped at Peggy’s shout. It was followed immediately by the pounding of several footsteps. Men rushed into the kitchen, each trying to beat the other to the stove where a large pot of pasta and the sauce Cayden had been stirring waited for them. There was a basket of bread on the counter and a bowl of parmesan cheese with a spoon next to it.
Trixie watched as each man filled his plate and then paused by Peggy to say, “Thank you, Mrs. Wynn,” before journeying to take a seat at the table. She also noticed that Cayden hadn’t moved from her side. Did he want to be there, or did he feel he had to be because she was a woman? Why wasn’t he standing guard next to Peggy?
There were eight parolees including Cayden in the house. When seven of them were seated with their plates, Peggy gestured for Trixie to get hers. Cayden trailed after her.
“Boys, this is Trixie Romero. She’s a dear friend of Mr. Wynn’s and mine.” There was a clear warning in Peggy’s voice as she spoke to the men.
Trixie turned, her plate still empty, to wave tentatively at them. Collectively, they were well groomed and had been polite to Peggy, but they were all ex-convicts. She didn’t know what their past crimes were. She wasn’t scared of them. The Wynns did not take in anyone whose crimes had been violent or sexual. While she knew how to handle herself, she was cautiously wary of them.
After filling her plate, she grabbed the glass of water Peggy offered her and took an empty seat. Cayden took the chair to her right, placing himself between her and his housemates. Trixie noticed that none of the men were eating yet. They waited as Peggy and Greg filled their plates and then sat at the two heads of the table. Greg dropped a kiss to the top of Trixie’s head as he passed her.
