Love for Beginners: An Under the Hood Novella (3 page)

Slim, unadorned hands gripped the wheel as she expertly navigated the streets.

Suddenly the thought of shaking her out of her professional demeanor, ruffling her feathers, and getting to know the woman behind the mask was too tempting. “Maybe after dinner you could show me some of the nightlife.”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday. We could go for a drink or two.”

Mel spent so much time thinking about her answer it was as though he’d asked her to run away with him or something.

“Okay, maybe just for a while.” She shot him a glance, a tentative smile on her lips, then hit her turn signal and pulled in outside a restaurant. She turned the engine off and glanced in the rearview mirror. Tension turned the air honey-thick.

Something about him made her nervous. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands, wound tight as a drum.

Heath’s arm brushed against the magazine in his pocket. He held it out like a peace offering. “Alice asked me to give you this. She said there’s an article in it about the Orient Express.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Mel took the magazine and reached behind her to drop it on the backseat. As her torso twisted on the way back, she brushed against Heath’s arm. Her sharp intake of breath was audible in the close confines. Panicked green eyes flickered to his. “I’m interested in train journeys.” She spoke too fast, hands clenching into fists on her lap.

She was either attracted or terrified. “Is there something about me that makes you nervous, Mel?” The moment the words left his mouth Heath wished he could take them back. Asking if he made her nervous while seated in a darkened car with no one around was damned creepy. “Maybe we should talk about it inside.” Not giving her a chance to respond, he opened the door and stepped out.

The driver’s door swung open. Mel stalked around the car and stood toe-to-toe with him. Again. Her jawline was tight, her teeth gritted. “What’s your problem?”

You’re my problem
. He hadn’t done anything, but she was bristling for a fight. He couldn’t work her out at all. Couldn’t fathom what was going on inside her head. One minute she seemed nervous, the next, challenging him for getting out of the car. “Are you scared of me?” The thought that someone, a woman, would find him threatening, caused a fist to scrunch up his guts like a sheet of paper. Heath breathed deeply. This was getting out of control. “I haven’t given you any reason to…”

Mel crossed her arms. “I’m not scared of you.” Her upswept hair gleamed in the starlight, full of tints of warm wood colors, like the walnut dash of a classic car, or a winter forest, lit by candlelight. An escaping strand curled in front of her ear. Heath breathed in the scent of vanilla.
Edible
.

“I’m tired. I’m hungry. If you want to read stuff that isn’t there in my body language, that’s your problem, not mine. I’m not remotely scared of you. And frankly I find the suggestion insulting.” She turned on her heels. Glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming? We have a reservation.”

She strode toward the restaurant.

Everything he said, everything he did seemed to rub her the wrong way. Heath tried to relax. His family always joked about how laid-back he was. How there wasn’t a woman in the world immune to his charm. They were wrong; he’d found one.

He followed her inside, where they were led to a quiet table in the back, set with three places. Mel explained that Betty wouldn’t be joining them, and the server cleared the extra space.

“Drink?” Mel’s voice was sharp.

“You having one?”
Two can play at that game.

“I’m driving. I’ll just have a soda.”

“Fine. I’ll have a vodka tonic.”

Mel stretched her arms out at her sides, wriggled her fingers, and rotated her elbow joints.

“Stiff?” Fixing cars was muscle-wrenching work; she could be feeling the aftereffects of returning to the more physical side of the business.

She rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah.” Her gaze met his. “Listen, we need to talk about this. We can’t work together with all this tension.”

Heath nodded. “I shouldn’t have said what I did in the car. You seemed nervous and then when I asked you about it, we were alone, it was dark…”

Mel pulled in a deep breath. “You got out of the car because you thought I was frightened?”

He watched her.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re my friend’s brother. You’re working for our business, and we were going out to dinner. Of course I’m not frightened. What I am is…” Her face flushed. “I guess I find you unsettling.” She looked up from the menu she was holding before her like a shield.

“I was teasing you the other night. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” Heath admitted.

Mel shook her head quickly. “I wasn’t uncomfortable, I just…” Her lips were full and soft. As she breathed, her chest rose and fell, accentuating the curve of the top of her breasts against the soft gray silk. She played with a carved amethyst circle suspended from a thin gold chain around her neck. “I’m not great around men.”

She spoke as though flirting was a sin, when in fact it was a part of life—his life, anyway. Getting involved with his employer—his sister’s friend—was completely the wrong thing to do, but the urge to kiss her compelled him to lean close and lower his voice.

“There’s nothing wrong with flirting, you know. When you’re attracted to someone.”

Mel frowned. “You’ve got it all wrong.” The waitress wandered over, greeted Mel by name, and took their orders. The moment she was out of earshot, Mel continued. “I’m not attracted to you. I don’t get attracted to men. I’m…”

“Are you gay?” Disappointment mixed with confusion twisted Heath’s insides. How could he have misread her body language so badly?

Mel blinked. “No. I’m just not a sexual person.” She twisted the napkin with both hands, then laid it over her lap. “Not everyone is. I don’t know why I’m uptight when I’m around you, but it can’t be that.”

“Are you telling me you aren’t attracted to anyone, ever?” Heath’s head hurt. If she wasn’t interested in him, all she had to do was say so.

“That’s right. I don’t like to talk about it.”

Jeez, she was serious
. “You must have talked to your female friends. To Alice, or Betty?”

She bit her lip. “They have an idea, but I haven’t gone into all the specifics.”

Their food arrived. Heath swallowed a mouthful of vodka and resisted the urge to order another to have on standby.

Mel’s shoulders looked looser. She picked up her fork and twisted it around in the air, as if wrangling invisible spaghetti. “People sometimes think I’m kidding. Or even worse, that I have a problem.” She winced. “That I need to be
fixed
. In every relationship I’ve had, the whole sex thing has become an issue on about”—she thought for a moment—“I guess the fourth date.” She leaned close and said in a low voice tinged with drama, “The date from hell.”

“So your idea of a perfect relationship would be a sexless one?”

Mel looked so happy at his words he forgot all about the steak cooling on his plate.

“Exactly. One where both partners are happy and fulfilled. Care about each other, but without a sexual element.”

He’d heard some fairy tales in his time, but this… Heath held his glass up to the waitress, pointed at it, and mouthed
another one please
. “Sounds like a friendship, rather than a love affair.”

Mel pushed her hair back from her face. Rubbed the pendant between middle finger and thumb. Her voice was soft and dreamy. “I’d like to sleep next to someone every night, share my hopes, my dreams. Be one half of a couple. I wouldn’t want to hurt him by revealing that sex leaves me cold. But my perfect partner doesn’t exist. So I guess I’m going to have to learn how to fake it.”

Chapter Three

How can I say all these things to someone who’s practically a stranger?
Mel rubbed the side of her face. “Anyway, enough about me. How’s your steak?”

Heath’s mouth curved into a slow smile. “You can’t just leave the subject there.”

It was impossible to look away from the aquamarine eyes that seemed to bore right through her. Mel scratched her ear and swiped her tongue over her dry lips.

Heath cut a slice of steak, its center deep pink, and lazily chewed. At no moment through the whole sequence did his gaze leave hers.

Her face felt hot. Mel wanted to check the restaurant’s window, but couldn’t look away from his mesmerizing eyes. “I…I think I’ll ask them to open a window. It’s hot in here.”

“Uh-huh.” Heath looked down at his plate.

She glanced over. A lace curtain fluttered in the gentle breeze.

Mel blinked. “Look, this conversation’s gone off track a bit. I just wanted to let you know I’m not afraid of you—”

“—and you’re not attracted to me,” Heath added.

Mel nodded. “Right. And my
not
being attracted to you isn’t anything personal.”

“It’s just the way you are.” Heath put his knife and fork together. “Fine. Got it. I guess the vibes between us must be something else, then.”

“Maybe because you…um…are very experienced with women, I felt nervous, as if…”

“I might chat you up or something?” He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her with a cool expression. “I can see how that might have been a concern.”

“It’s just…”

Heath drained his drink. “The whole Ladyslayer tag.”

Mel nodded. Tiptoeing over this particular minefield was fraught with dangers. She didn’t want to offend, nor give the impression she was so full of herself that she thought he would find her attractive. She tilted her head to one side. But he had said there was nothing wrong with flirting, hadn’t he? Which meant he must find her attractive.

Confusingly, warmth flowed through her at the thought. “You’re obviously very experienced. I didn’t want you to feel insulted.”

Heath’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t have any problem with rejection.” He smiled his slow, deliberate smile again. “At least I don’t imagine that I would.”

“No one’s ever rejected you before?”

“Nope.”

So every single woman he’d ever approached…
“You’ve slept with all of them?”

“I don’t think we want to get into a discussion of my sex life, do we?” His voice was deep, dark,
delicious
. The errant thought caught Mel by surprise.

He leaned closer.

Mel’s breath hitched and her heartbeat tip-tapped like a fleet of Irish dancers.

She caught the waitress’s eye—mouthed,
dessert?
“Of course not.” She pasted on her most professional smile. Looking down at her watch, she said, “I wonder how Betty’s getting on.”

She pulled her cell phone out of her bag and glanced at it to make sure she hadn’t missed any messages. “She said she’d call.”

“Then she’ll call.”

The waitress arrived at their table and reeled off a list of available desserts.

They ordered.

“You should have my phone number.” He held out his hand and Mel handed him the phone. Deftly, Heath tapped in his number. Something about the sight of his long brown fingers moving so adeptly made her mouth dry. “I’m happy to do the hotline, too. Pass on my number to Betty tomorrow, I’ll take my share.” He shoved the phone across the table to her.

“No need.” Mel took a drink. “Many of our clients have told us that one of the most reassuring things about using our repair service is the fact that they know they’ll be rescued by a female mechanic.” It was important to make sure that he realized it wasn’t personal. “Even if you know someone well, the fact that it’s dark, that you have no means of escape…”

“It’s frightening.”

Mel nodded. “Many of our clients are single or divorced. There was a spate of rapes locally a few years ago. It brought home how dangerous it can be for a woman living and working alone. They prefer to have a female respond to breakdowns.”

“It’s reassuring to deal with someone you know—I can understand that. My brothers and I always tell our sisters to call us if they’re in trouble.”

“You and Alice come from a big family.”

He nodded.

Mel had often wished for siblings growing up. For a father, too. Her mother was loving, but leaned pretty heavily on her only child. How might her life have been different with a brother or father to provide support when she was growing up?

Even the matter of Mel’s birth was a mystery. Her mother refused to talk about her father—maintained that falling for him had been a mistake she’d had a lifetime to regret. Once she’d called him a charmer, and reading between the lines, Mel had come to the conclusion that he was a man who had run rather than face the responsibility of a family. He’d never been in her life, had never even bothered to meet her.

Filling in medical forms was a nightmare, as she had no idea of the medical conditions present on his side of the family. She’d pressed her mother to reveal something—anything about her father, even his name, but all Marcia would tell her was that a family wasn’t something he’d wanted.

Men came with a warning label.

Mel’s phone rang.

“Hi. Just letting you know that the mission is complete. I followed her home, and now I’m snuggled up in bed watching TV with Ben and Jerry.” Betty’s voice deepened. “How’s the date going?”

Mel leaned back, and focused her gaze on the potted palm in the corner. “Great, I’m glad you got it sorted. I’ll see you at nine.”

“That good, huh?”

“Okay, you sleep well, too.”

…

Mel’s body language was transparent. There was no way that Betty was talking about merely saving their client; she was teasing Mel. Which meant there was a conspiracy underfoot. Heath breathed out a sigh. The last thing he wanted was to be matchmade. Alice’s sneaky little questions trying to work out if he was on the market or not were bad enough; if they added Betty into the mix…

He scooped up the last mouthful of apple pie. “So, where are you taking me?”

Mel drew her signature in the air on imaginary paper in the universal signal for
check please.
“We could go to Mike’s. It ain’t fancy, but it’s fun. They have music most nights.”

She paid, and they headed out.

…

Mike’s buzzed with activity. Men lined up at the bar like bowling pins, ready to fall at the first approach of a gorgeous female. Couples sat at tables around the room’s edges, and in the middle of the floor, a few brave souls shook their stuff to some dodgy cowboy music. It was a far cry from New York. Two or three people greeted Mel as they walked in, and others nodded her direction; she was obviously well known in Meadowsweet.

“So, it’s your first day off tomorrow. Are you planning to sleep till noon?” Mel grinned. She looked out of place here among the casual drinkers. She licked her beer’s foam off her top lip, and Heath’s body tightened in response. If she loosened the next couple of buttons, swapped the severe skirt for a pair of jeans, and let her hair down, she’d fit right in.

“I want to drive up into the mountains. Take some photographs.” His casual tone hid the fact that taking photographs was the most important thing on his agenda. He needed to take the best pictures of his life. His new career depended on it.

Mel’s forehead creased. “I didn’t know you were a photographer.”

“Not many people do.” The thought of getting back to nature had propelled Heath toward becoming a photographer in the first place. Living in a city with the noise and foul air was his everyday reality, one that left him unsatisfied and overstimulated. At the end of the day, he longed for the peace and quiet that only being out of the city would bring. It wasn’t enough to get access to the silence of the countryside once a month or so when he could escape the demands of home and family. And after that thing with Cindy…

She tilted her head to one side, and an errant memory floated to the surface. A memory of Mel, a long time ago. Heath looked closer. “I know we’ve met before, but I can’t remember exactly when.”

Mel flushed.

“Didn’t we meet while Alice was in college?”

A quick nod. “You gave me a lift to the station once. At the end of the semester.”

A vague memory of a slender girl with long dark hair half obscuring her face materialized in Heath’s mind. She’d sat next to him. Barely spoken. Then as she’d clambered out of the car…
daisy dukes
… The memory came back in a rush.

“You were wearing short shorts.”

Mel’s face reddened further. “I thought you’d remember that.”

Ouch. He’d deserved the Ladyslayer tag, back then, anyway. She’d turned and caught him staring at her ass, which to be honest, any red-blooded male would have. Busted, he’d grinned, but instead of grinning back she’d shot him a venom-loaded look, grabbed her bag from the seat, and stormed off.

He rubbed his jaw. “From what I remember, you didn’t talk much, either. Did you travel to college and back by yourself all the time?”

“Back then, Mom was working. She didn’t have the time to drive me up to college, and anyway I was more than capable of getting myself there. If I hadn’t hitched a lift from you and Alice to the station, I would have taken a cab.” Mel talked quickly, snapping the words out as though she had no use for them.

Talking to her was as tricky as juggling a porcupine. He should probably just let the past lie, forget it. But she sure hadn’t. Heath pulled in a deep breath. “Are you still pissed at me for staring at your ass?”

Mel frowned. “That’s just…”

“That would be just stupid, right? Because it was a long time ago, and I couldn’t be blamed for that, could I?”

She spoke through gritted teeth. “You have a very irritating habit of finishing my sentences. I was going to say that’s just ridiculous.”

“You didn’t like it, though, did you?”

Mel’s hands formed fists on the tablecloth. She looked as though the urge to punch him out was warring with the need to stay calm. “I didn’t appreciate being objectified by a man I hardly knew, if you must know. I felt insulted.”

Her gaze pinned his, daring him to deny it.

“It’s a good many years too late, but I’m sorry.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“I was pretty much focused on the physical back then. And you had a pretty cute…”

She held up a hand. “Stop right there.”

He grabbed her hand and held it. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. Then, or now. Looking was automatic…” He rubbed his hand over his eyes; damn, he was making it worse with his rambling. “Lust was sort of automatic for me, back then. I’ve changed.”

Her expression softened. “I guess if you’re sorry, then I should be a bigger person and accept your apology.”

He released her fingers. “I’d be glad if you would.” Heat pooled in his stomach as her mouth curved into a smile. Despite his speech, lust still had a pretty good grip.

A woman across the room waved at Mel and she lifted a hand in the air in a brief wave back.

“Seems like everyone here knows you,” Heath said.

“I grew up in Meadowsweet. Have never lived anywhere else.” There was a wistful look in her eyes. “Although I’ve often thought about it.”

“I guess you’re tied to the garage.” Heath drank a mouthful of beer. He sympathized. He’d felt constrained and trapped by his family’s expectation that he would step into his father’s shoes and take over the reins of the business when Dad retired.

Mel nodded. “That, and my mom. There’s only ever been the two of us, and she needs me living nearby.” She pulled a face. “Well, I was living nearby—my house is on the market so I guess when it sells I’ll be moving back home for a while.” She drained the last mouthful of her drink.

“Just until you find another place, I guess?”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “Probably longer. I didn’t want to sell but I sort of have to. My mom is behind on her mortgage…” She took in a breath and forced a bright smile. “Sometimes you’ve just gotta do what you’ve gotta do, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

In the past month he’d taken the first step closer to claiming his dreams. The possibility existed that his decisions would cause problems within the family, but he had no choice. Cindy, the incessant noise that kept him from being able to fully connect with himself, and the fact that his thirtieth birthday was looming on the horizon had aligned like planets in the cosmos.

Heath wasn’t living the life he wanted to. It was time to change.

Mel’s updo was fast becoming a downdo. The caramel strand that brushed against her cheek had been joined by another, and now another errant lock tumbled down against her neck.

“Oh heck.” She reached behind her head and pulled out the pins holding it in place. Then shook her head from side to side.

“That’s better.” She smiled. “So tell me about your photography. If you love it so much, have you ever thought about doing it professionally?”

…

Heath’s brow pleated. His jawline tightened as if he were pressing his back teeth together. She’d asked an innocent question, but from the look on Heath’s face, it was apparent he was giving deep thought to the answer.

“The week before Alice had the accident, I’d made a decision.” His gaze held hers. “I haven’t told anyone about it yet.”

Mel’s chest burned with her held breath. She surreptitiously exhaled and left her lips parted a fraction so she could breathe in and out through her mouth and get back to normal without him noticing. “What decision?”

“I haven’t told anyone,” he repeated. “Maybe we should just forget it.”

The glass of beer she’d drunk loosened Mel’s tongue. “If you don’t want me to tell anyone, I won’t.” Warmth spread through her chest. His midnight-black hair curled around the nape of his neck, growing thick and springy there, in a way that invited her fingers’ touch. “What’s the big secret?”

There was silence for a moment as Heath considered her question, then he spoke. “I’m changing careers. Two years ago, I bought a serious camera. I specialize in outdoor photography, and a couple of months ago I submitted a portfolio of pictures to
National Geographic
.” He smiled. “Long story short, they liked them. They want to see more. A writer friend of mine is pitching them a project, and if my pictures are good enough—original enough—I’ll have a shot at doing the pictures.” He ran a tanned hand through his hair. “I intend to spend every single spare minute out there, communing with nature.” The last words were delivered in a self-mocking tone, as though communing with nature was something other men did.