Read Unsteady (The Torqued Trilogy Book 1) Online

Authors: Shey Stahl

Tags: #General Fiction

Unsteady (The Torqued Trilogy Book 1) (12 page)

In my head, I’m grumbling the entire way outside. All twenty feet. It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing before.

The woman’s older, maybe in her early forties so not that old, just older than me. With a look of complete disdain, she looks at my jacket, and then my shorts, and then finally my face. I’ll admit, I didn’t choose the best clothes for my first day of work, but I did drive three days to get here, and when you only pack what you can toss in a suitcase, you’re limited.

“I have a rattle in my car. I can hear it,” she tells me, sweeping her perfectly straightened golden brown hair over her shoulder with her perfectly manicured nails.

“I heard the rattle. It was a dead rat in your heater vent.”

The woman stares at the shop, and I know immediately what’s going on here. Eric, my old boss, was pretty good-looking, and he constantly had chicks coming in to work on their cars. It was more about them wanting to watch him than anything actually being wrong with their cars.

“I think Red should check it out.” She looks past me; her eyes focused on him as he continues to work. “He’s in there, right?”

“He is, but I’m capable of finding the rattle.”

She gives me a once over, her stare lingering on my legs. I know, bad choice of attire for your first day. “You’re a woman.”

Congratulations, you know your genders. “I’m telling you, the noise is a rat.” I’ll admit, my tone is somewhat harsh and not one I should be using with a customer, but come on. She’s basically implying I can’t do my job. “It’s in my trash can.”

Her perfectly tan and toned arms cross over her chest, and she purses her lips. “I want him to look at it. I don’t trust you. He’s been my mechanic for years.”

I feel bad for her, I really do. Mostly for putting up with him for years. “Fine.” I turn on my heel and head back in the shop as Red is smiling. Who knew he could.

“What?” He looks up as soon as I’m in front of him.

I place my hands on my hips. “She wants
you
.”

Our gazes lock in a stare down for a moment. “Okay,” he tells me, suddenly serious, staring down at my lips as he speaks.

My tongue darts out to wet my bottom lip, suddenly dry under his stare. “She doesn’t believe me.”

So Red goes out there, I watch his ass the entire time, and talks to the lady and I can see she’s working him over by flaunting her chest in his face, laughing and literally acting like she’s brain dead. After fifteen minutes, she leaves, and he returns to the shop.

“She’s full of shit. There’s nothing wrong with her car,” I point out.

“Yeah, I know.” He chuckles, flipping a wrench around in his hand before tossing it inside a drawer and closing it with his hip. Immediately, I imagine the power behind his hips. It’s a pleasant thought. “She’s a nice lady,” he goes on to say, “and if she wants me to look at a rattle that’s not there, I look at it.”

“It was a rat.”

“Well.” He takes a carburetor off his toolbox. “Last week it was a bird. I’m pretty sure she sticks dead animals in her car, or she loses a lot of pets. She’s been a customer for years, and she pays us. So if she wants us to fish out dead animals….”

I find it entertaining he actually spoke to me, but then I remember the jobs I’ve been getting this morning.

I get it. I do. It’s the drill when you’re the low man in the shop. You get the jobs no one wants to do, and you don’t complain. The thing with Red is it’s like he’s waiting for me to fail. Like if he keeps shoveling shit my way, I’ll jump in my truck and head for the hills. Ironically, all this does is make me want to shovel shit right back at him. I’m not a quitter, and I’m definitely not gonna let some asshole chauvinistic jerk take away my chance at a new start. For so many years, I’ve sat in silence while it seemed people would go out of their way to make me feel worthless and insignificant in order to make themselves stronger. No more. I refuse to bite my tongue this time. I’m nobody’s princess.

“You know, I’m capable of doing the harder jobs,” I tell Red, tossing a rag over the dead rat. I don’t want to look at it anymore. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve fished a dead animal from a car. I nod to the row of cars in the parking lot. “It looks like you could use the help.”

I take a closer look at him as we stand there. Not that I need to take a closer look. My brain seems to be in overdrive reminding me exactly how hot my new boss is. But I stand there anyway taking in his profile and appreciating how his gray T-shirt with the words Walker Automotive across the right pec, clings so perfectly to his muscular chest. The arms fit just snug enough to showcase his well-defined biceps. His black jeans look as though they were created for the sole purpose of highlighting his muscular legs and gorgeous ass. Oh, and did I mention the bastard has tattoos. Perfectly displayed hot-as-hell tattoos. Damn. I’ve had to remind myself to stop drooling over them more than once today. I’ve also been tempted to handcuff myself to his toolbox and eat the key. Maybe then he’d be nice to me, or do something else. All options I’m willing to explore.

To top it all off, he’s got a stubble across his jaw, and I have to stop myself from wanting to reach out and run my hand over it. Mostly because I have a thing for the 5 o'clock shadow look on dirty mechanics. Asshole makes a tempting-as-hell package.

Shaking myself out of my blissful admiration, I’m reminded that this man, in the short time I’ve known him, has made me experience more crazy-ass emotions than I thought I was capable of. The strongest of these emotions being the irrational need to pull his hair. It’s shaved close on the sides and long on the top to the point when he looks down, it falls on his face, and he has to constantly push it out of his eyes.

Yep, I’ve got the scenario all figured out. I want to pull it while he sets me on the hood of the car he’s working on, and I wrap my legs around him.

Damn, Lenny. Calm the fuck down.

Another one of the crazy-ass emotions I was referring to… confusion. I’m totally confused about what he’s doing to me. Just days ago I was running from my husband because he thought it was his right to beat the crap out of me and now I’m ready to straddle this guy like a hormonal teenager.

Way to be strong, Lenny. I am woman, hear me moan!

To Red’s credit, he hasn’t done anything wrong except displaying a total douche bag mentality while demanding I do these stupid little jobs. But, and I’m not proud of saying this, if he walked up to me and demanded I suck his dick right now, I’d sadly consider it.

He makes a noise that sounds like a grunt as I continue to admire his chiseled arms and broad shoulders. He turns toward me, and I can’t help but think how powerful he looks, like he can lift any of these cars if he wanted. “Look, I’ll let you know when I need your help. I know what I’m doing,” Red mutters, tossing another repair order at me. “In the meantime, take care of this.”

Great. It’s another rattle. “It seems to me that if you knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t have at least two-days’ worth of cars backed up outside.”

I should keep my mouth shut.

Red’s weight shifts to one side, standing as though he’s completely relaxed and unfazed by me being a bitch to him. Unfortunately for him, his eyes tell another story, which I’m assuming is why he doesn’t look at me directly. In just the quick glimpse that I did get, I can see in his eyes he’s fazed by this. And most certainly attracted to me. “Well,
Lenny,
you better hope I know what I’m doing, or you’re gonna end up living in your car.”

Too late,
I think to myself, and then he turns to face me completely.

His voice is low but filled with enough heat I have to look away. “And I’d watch what you’re saying to me. I’m the one who signs your paychecks.”

“I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

Red stares at me, fire in his eyes. He hangs his head; a slow shake reveals his aggravation. “Just get back to work. As you’ve pointed out, I don’t have time to stand here talking to you.”

Why does he have to look so damn hot when he’s angry?

Shake it off Lenny. Right now.

Tyler, the cheery motherfucker that he is today, comes walking by me as Red stomps away toward the office. “How’s it going?”

“He hates me. And that’s putting it lightly.” I take a deep breath and place my hands on my hips. “I can’t do this.”

“Lenny, I get that you’re upset, and that’s my fault.”

“Upset? That’s putting it lightly. How can you work for that douche and not want to kill him?”

The older guy I was introduced to this morning, Colt, stares at us smiling. “It takes a lot of practice, honey.”

Tyler grabs my arm and pulls me aside into their lunch room out of earshot from the crazy old man with the flask in his hand. At least I think it’s a lunch room. It’s not like Reddington took the time to actually show me around. He mostly gestured to shit and ordered me around this morning. “Seriously, Lenny. This is on me. I didn’t explain the situation to him.”

I cross my arms defiantly over my chest. “I don’t care whose fault it is. That guy is a fucking asshole.”

Tyler holds up his hand. “All right, hold up. You need to stop right there. Red’s under a lot of pressure, and he’s been through hell these last two years so don’t stand here and start judging him. You have no idea who he is. He’s a great guy, one of the best people I know. I’ll admit he can come off as an asshole, but he’s got a lot on his plate, and he’s passionate about keeping this shop running.”

I stare at him, still not completely convinced I’m coming back tomorrow.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it at the moment but this is the best place for you. Trust me on this. You’re safe here, and we’re a great bunch of jerks to work with.”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, truth.” Tyler shifts his stance, and his arms cross over his chest. “You need a job, don’t you?”

I nod.

“You got anybody else offering you a position?”

I shake my head.

“Well, we need a mechanic. And I’m thinking you need us as much as we need you.”

He has a point. I need this job.

 

LUNCH TIME ROLLS around and most of the guys head out leaving me alone with Red. I’m still trying to figure out where the damn rattle is coming from on the car Red wanted me to look at when Tyler walks out with the promise that he’ll grab me some tacos on his way back.

As I’m looking over the car, I catch Red staring at me. His eyes are dark and disbelieving for a moment. “For someone who not so long ago was telling me how she was capable of helping out with the bigger repairs, you sure do seem to be taking your time on fixing this one.” He shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he bolts parts on the engine in front of him. “I mean wasn’t it you who said I must not know what I’m doin’ if we’re so backed up, but yet here you are still working on a simple rattle. So I guess I have to ask, how’s that rattle coming?” he asks just as I have the car on the lift.

“I’m still looking,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice even, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to me. “She said it makes a noise when she goes around a corner, so I’m thinking it’s a stabilizer or a bearing.”

Come over here so I can let this lift down on your head.

His brow pulls into an affronted frown. Maybe he heard me. “Is that so?”

What the hell does that mean? I swear he’s decided his only job today is to piss me off. What ticks me off even more is that he says it just above a whisper, and I hate it because his voice is so distant, yet it’s enough that it’s going to echo in my head all night. It’s the kind of voice you want to utter your name in the midst of an orgasm. “Did you check the wheel bearings?”

“I will.” I can’t wait to wipe that smug look right off his face.

Red shrugs, tossing a shop towel on his toolbox and walks into the bathroom.

“God, he’s such an asshole,” I mumble, looking up at the car on the rack. Reaching up under the Explorer, I take the stabilizer in my hand and attempt to move it. Sure enough, it wiggles and makes a popping sound.

“So you’re the new girl?” a voice asks from behind me.

I turn my head to a pair of familiar brown eyes. Only they’re not Red’s. It’s obvious they are related, though. She’s young, maybe eighteen or nineteen with long wavy brown hair that’s kissed with subtle golden-blonde highlights.

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