Page 11

11

RICHARD

I’d just sat down after a hot shower when Tripp texted me. I had spent the majority of the morning the same way I always do. Training.

I don’t mind practicing with the guys, but my gym routine is a bit more intense than what they’re used to. Besides, I like to work out by myself, outside of the house because it’s my time to myself. Dane’s a homebody, literally I swear the guy never goes anywhere, and Tripp is starting to absorb some of that too.

I tell him all the time—he’s twenty-four, he needs to live it up while he can. I swear if I didn’t push that boy out the door he’d be much more sheltered than he is. And even though he’s my stepbrother, and technically I’m old enough to be his dad, I try to have a relationship with him. He’s a good kid. A little dumb at times, but what twenty-four-old isn’t?

So when he texts me asking for a favor, I groan. With Tripp, favors usually come in the form of “Can you fix it?” or “I need help with something.”

Gary, my stepdad…he’s not a bad guy. But Gary is the kind of guy who would rather pay someone to fix shit than do it himself. My dad was adamant I know how to do it myself. I used to spend hours in the garage with him, learning everything I could. And if anything broke around our house, my dad had me by his side with the toolbox in a flash.

I miss him a lot. Especially the older I get. I’m pretty sure my therapist would say my dad’s death and my vasectomy decision go hand in hand, and maybe that’s true on some level. But I think sometimes it’s just bullshit.

Cancer sucks.

But I also know that the way things worked out, with my mom and Gary, and gaining a pain-in-the-ass baby brother, it wasn’t a terrible outcome.

I just need to remind myself of that when Tripp’s blowing up my phone because he needs something.

It’s for Amelia, not me.

I stop at that. He’s…with Amelia?

Heat and jealousy strike me hard. He mentioned to Dane and me that he and Amelia have been texting back and forth.

But being with her? It pisses me off.

On my way , I text him back immediately, throwing on my shoes and jumping into my car.

My phone keeps chiming with his texts, which my car reads to me, hands-free. He mentions she’s parked in front of the campus, and that he would stay with her, but he has to get to class.

Fuck it, I’d be late to class if she was the reason, but I digress.

I know Tripp isn’t an idiot. He got into the university on a scholarship, and he’s studying fucking engineering. He’s a hard hitter on the ice, but he’s not brainless. Unless it comes to common sense and life bullshit.

I find Amelia’s car in the parking lot easily, having seen it before.

I remember her having trouble with it, passing it off. I should have been more stern with her. Should have not taken no for an answer.

Maybe then she wouldn’t be sitting in a car that won’t fucking start.

I pull up beside her, noting the sour look on her face as she taps something out on her phone.

“Hey,” I call out, getting out of my car. She looks up, her eyes going wide when she sees me.

“Richie,” she says, and I swear a shiver runs down my spine.

“Amelia,” I say as I shut the door. “What uh…seems to be the problem?” I know what the problem is, Tripp told me, but I also want to hear it from her. Not that I don’t trust him, but he isn’t always the most articulate when it comes to cars.

“It won’t start.”

“At all, or is it just not kicking over like last time?”

She stands up, motioning to the open door. “Well, at first it was making the same noise, but then…then it just stopped. I put the key in, but nothing happens.”

I fold myself into her driver’s seat, cursing because it’s such a tight fucking squeeze. Amelia’s five foot three, where I’m over six foot. I feel like I’m fucking the dashboard in this car. Christ. There’s barely enough room for me to get in and start the car, and I adjust the seat momentarily to give me enough room for some relief.

I turn the key, and true to her word, and Tripp’s, nothing happens.

I try again. A total of four times, and I nod. “Alright,” I say. “I’ll take a look.”

I get out of the seat, head around to her hood and prop it open.

“I really appreciate you looking at my car,” she says softly, but I can hear the sadness in her voice.

“It’s no problem,” I tell her as I move things around. She stays off to the side, not saying anything, but I can feel her eyes on me. Watching me intently.

A few moments later, I have my theory, and as such, I close the hood, turning around and leaning against it. I cross my arms as I catch her gaze.

“What’s the verdict?” she asks quietly.

“Likely? It’s your catalytic converter.”

“What does that mean?” she asks innocently. I shake my head, because fuck, that voice combined with those big bright eyes is fucking criminal.

Images flash in my brain of those big doe eyes staring up at me, that innocent voice begging me for things I shouldn’t be thinking about in a damn parking lot.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you, Amelia,” I say, twisting my lips. I watch as her expression falters. “It means that you’re probably better off buying a new car than trying to fix this one, honestly.” I know that’s not what she wants to hear, and fuck, I get it. Especially given her circumstances.

That’s when the lightbulb goes off. Dane has been pondering a reason, a way to reach out to Amelia and offer her the support she needs, offer to let her move in with us, but he claimed it would be tricky.

That Amelia would need a good reason to accept our offer.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the offer…because it’s clear Amelia can’t afford a new car and she can’t afford to not have a car, especially if she’s looking for work…and being out of work, with no car, with no steady stream of income…

“Fuck,” she cries, and this time, she actually does cry.

My heart breaks as I push off of the car, taking two strides toward her.

“This is bad. This is?—”

“Hey,” I say as I reach out for her, settling my hands on the sides of her arms.

She looks up at me with glassy eyes, and I have to push the inappropriate thoughts out of my mind. Now is not the time to get all turned on by mascara running down her pretty face.

“We’ll figure it out, you can?—”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” she says petulantly, and I can’t help the smile that wants to form on my mouth.

“Say what, darling?”

She pouts as she stares at me as if she wants to protest my endearment, but thinks better of it. “That everything will be fine. It’s clearly not fine!” She stamps her foot, letting out a frustrated growl. “I need to get home, I need to pick up Lyla, and?—”

“First things first,” I tell her sternly. “You need a car to pick up your daughter. To get around. This…” I hit the hood. “Isn’t going anywhere. I can have it towed, and you can take my car.”

“What? No, I’m not taking your car.” She shakes her head. “You need a car too.”

I wave my hand dismissively. “It’s not that big of a deal, I can get a ride from?—”

She shakes her head. “Absolutely not. You’re already doing enough just coming out here and…I’ll just…have to see what I have left in my savings, and?—”

“Nope.” It’s my turn to shake my head and argue. “Not happening. You are not touching your savings. I’ll take care of it.”

“You will not.” She stands firm, staring up at me, and fuck if she isn’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Mascara streaks on her pale cheeks, eyes blazing with determination behind tears. Lips that are parted just the slightest and that beg to be bitten and kissed.

Fuck, Dane was right. She’s a fighter. Good thing for her, I know just how to handle brats who don’t want to listen.

“Well, you have two options, baby girl. You either take my car—” I point to my charcoal Corvette beside us. “Or, we get this piece of junk towed, and you let me give you a ride home.”

“But—” She opens her mouth and I don’t think twice about putting my finger to her lips. She quiets, her eyes going wide as she looks at me.

“Those are your options. Pick one.”

She looks like she wants to argue, and I kind of want her to, if I’m being honest.

But she relents, swallowing nervously. “Even if you tow it and I go with you…” She sighs. “I need to be able to get around.”

“And I have no problem driving you where you need to go,” I say as if this is obvious.

“I don’t think your car is equipped for my daughter. ”

I shrug. “Then we’ll use Dane’s Explorer. Problem solved.”

She chews on her lip as I await her answer.

“You think you can actually fix my car?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I can. It will take a minute, though, for me to get the exact model needed for your car, then the labor itself, but…”

I meet her gaze, trying to make her understand. It’s clear she hasn’t had the best support, and my brother is partially to blame for that, but I also get the feeling Amelia hasn’t had much support outside of Dex either. This woman has been doing it on her own a long time.

Accepting help isn’t easy for her.

“And don’t even try to argue with me about the money. Money’s not an issue here.”

“I’m not letting you fix my car for free, Richie.”

I smile. “So you are letting me fix it, then.”

Her cheeks heat and she opens her mouth to argue as I take a step toward her.

“I didn’t say that, I?—”

I back her up against the hood and her gaze flashes to my lips. Where it stays.

“Yes, you did. Now get in my car.”

The gasp that leaves her throat has my cock twitching instantly. Her hand settles on my waist and I have half a mind to let it stay there.

“You can’t just come in here and tell me what to do, I?—”

“Watch me, Amelia.”

It takes everything in me to move off of her, pull my phone out, and call Harry over at Harry’s Star Car Service to come tow this son of a bitch. But somehow I manage to get out coherent words to Harry, while standing there under Amelia’s heated gaze.

When I’m done on the phone, she’s still standing there, staring at me.

“Get. In. The. Car. Amelia,” I growl.

She huffs out an annoyed sound as I open my passenger door for her, even though it’s been unlocked.

She nods in defeat, her expression tired as she folds herself into the car. “Good girl,” I tell her, and her spine straightens. She flashes her gaze at me in surprise, her cheeks tinted that perfect shade of pink I love.

God, she’s so responsive to me, to my orders, it should be a fucking crime. I absentmindedly adjust my cock through my athletic pants as I round the car and get into my driver’s seat.

“Now,” I say as I start my car, the engine roaring to life. “How does lunch sound?” I smile.

Amelia crosses her arms. “Lunch wasn’t part of the deal.”

Oh, Amelia. You are going to be trouble for me, I know it.

“Maybe not, but…you deserve a good meal and a drink after this debacle, right?”

I can tell she wants to argue and a part of me hopes she will. Argue with me. It would be so much sweeter watching her resolve crumble the more she resists.

“Lunch will give Harry time to tow the car and get back to me. Then I’ll take you home.”

She sighs, leaning against the window, not looking at me but staring at her car.

“Fine,” she says.

I smile. Maybe getting her to agree to live with us won’t be so hard after all.