Slow Ride (3 page)

“Classy, real freakin’ classy. And who do you think you are anyway, going through
someone’s bag. A stranger’s bag, no less. I mean who does that?” Kyla didn’t even
attempt to hide her annoyance. “Is your guy going to get here today or what? I’ve
been waiting out here for what seems like forever and I have to tell you between that
and your behavior, the customer service sucks.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean any harm by it. I swear. It
is nice to know a girl like you is hiding a wild side underneath that tank top and
skirt though. And just FYI, you’re cute when you blush.”

“Shut up, I’m not cute,” she glared at him as she huffed and leaned against her car.
“And stop talking about what I’m wearing and my underwear. It’s none of your beeswax.”

Cooper snorted. “None of my beeswax?” He shook his head. “I can already see you’re
the kind of girl who’ll be a handful—the good kind—and has probably driven a fair
number of men into both fits of laughter, and headaches from hell, perhaps at the
same time. I figure the way you wear those clothes, and the thought of what you might
be wearing underneath ‘em, must make up for the headaches. “

Kyla shifted her feet and blew out a frustrated breath. “Glad to know I’m so transparent.”
Her words were mumbled, her tone sarcastic. This conversation was maddening. One minute
he was annoyed and angry for reasons she still didn’t know, and the next he was flirty,
insulting, and complimentary at the same time.

She glanced down at what she was wearing and shrugged. To her it was just an outfit
she threw on in the morning and certainly nothing to deliberately catch attention.
That wasn’t her game. She wore what she wore out of comfort. From now on that would
mean sweatpants and oversized sweatshirts because she didn’t need anyone like Cooper
looking at her like he was at that moment. Her style was funky and laid back, and
Kyla was not someone who ever paid full price for clothes, preferring to shop at outlets,
sales, auction sites online, garage sales, or consignment shops. Truth was, she never
bought anything retail because she couldn’t afford it. She was good with putting together
a style though, and accessories were key. Today she was wearing a white jean skirt,
a red scarf with fringe at the ends for a belt, and a midnight blue tank top with
the Rolling Stones’ logo on it, in red. She was wearing flat, black, strappy sandals
laced up her ankles.

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned slightly away from him. “Whatever.
Why are we talking about this?”

A horn honked, and the two looked up as a large tow truck pulled over to the side
of the road behind the Mustang. A very large man in greasy overalls jumped down from
the truck and called out as he walked over, “Hey, Coop. This it? Man, she is a beauty!”
He whistled as he got close to the car and ran his hand along the hood.

“Her name is Lola,” Kyla huffed, ignoring Cooper’s grin.

“Lola? Cooper, man, is she
serious?
Fuckin’ A. What is with chicks doing that shit to prime pieces of American craftsmanship?
Dayum! Chick is lucky she’s cute. Otherwise we’d have to have a word.”

Kyla visibly tensed at the stranger’s words. Her eyes flicked to Cooper, who was watching
her like a hawk. As his partner walked over to the front of the car, Cooper held up
his hands in front of him, his eyes still on Kyla.

“I’m going to take a step toward you.” He waited until she nodded and relaxed before
he approached. He stayed near the trunk, his back to the newcomer, and ducked his
head down. “Ignore Phil. He’s a big teddy bear and likes to tease a lot. Not the kind
of guy who hurts people.”

Phil failed to catch Kyla’s reaction. He was busy with the car. But at Cooper’s calm
words, she felt her body relax and nodded. Cooper was just as much a stranger as Phil,
but for some reason, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, made her
let down her guard a fraction of an inch. He also didn’t have the hard cruelty in
his eyes that she looked for whenever she met someone. Of course, when she had first
seen that look, she hadn’t realized what it was. She had mistaken it for love, respect,
caring, and most of all, protection. But it hadn’t been any of those things.

“Seriously, Cooper. We need to do something about the name. If she’s gonna be sitting
in your garage, we need to re-christen her.”

Cooper glanced at Phil and gave a small shake of his head. “We’ll talk about it later.
Right now, let’s just get this done. I need to get Lola’s driver to the motel. Park
it in the lot for now. Make sure none of the stuff inside is touched, or Kyla will
have us all by the balls. I’m going to bring her over to the motel.”

Kyla drowned out the rest of the conversation between the two and reached into her
car for her messenger bag. She was at the truck door when Cooper moved to her side
and opened it. His large hands were a whisper at her waist as he lifted her up to
the seat. Neither said a word. Kyla’s eyes were glued to him as he rounded the truck
and climbed in the cab.

“Buckle up.” The words were more an order than anything, and he waited until she got
the seatbelt on, even reaching over to make sure it was tight, which caused her to
stop breathing since his arm was way into her personal space. Then he hit the gas.
After a few minutes of silence he spoke.

“Don’t worry, Phil will do as I say. Your stuff will be safe and sound within the
confines of the garage, which has a locked fence around it whenever no one is around.
Or you can bring it over to the motel. It’s right next door.” He kept his eyes straight
ahead now, but when she didn’t reply, he gave her a quick glance. She continued to
stare out the window, her knees tucked up to her chest. Her only acknowledgment that
she heard Cooper was a small nod.

Kyla remained quiet for most of the ride into the town, but as the quiet got heavier
in the truck, she had to fill it with something. “So, you’re a mechanic?”

“Yeah, among other things. I own the garage and another shop in town. A record store
I inherited from my dad. Economy might suck everywhere at the moment, but here in
Ashten Falls we’re always in an economic slump. Added to that, there are . . . well
let’s just call them issues . . . in the town that keep this place from flourishing
like it should. So you have to be able to diversify to make a living.”

Kyla turned in the seat, her head tilting to the side. “Issues?” she asked, her tone
curious. He remained silent, and she could see by the shake of his head and the way
his lips pressed together that he wasn’t going to spill all the town secrets to some
stranger. “Are you from here?”

“I was born here, but my dad and I moved to Portland afterwards. Lived there for awhile,
and then we moved back when I was ten.”

“So the rest of your family is here?”

She watched his hand tighten on the steering wheel. “You got lots of questions considering
you still haven’t told me your name.” The tone of his voice was light, but she could
tell it was a subject he wasn’t too keen to talk about.

Kyla stared at him a beat and was about to respond when he interrupted. “Here we are.
Welcome to Ashten Falls. Look quickly or you might miss it.”

Her attention was pulled from him to the buildings they were passing. She saw several
people wave to Cooper, and was not unaware of a few stares in her direction.

Most of the buildings were brick and in need of some masonry work, with several beyond-the-worn
stage and falling down. The ones that were wooden, were clapboard and needed paint.
However, dots of color sprang up here and there from flower boxes and half barrels
outside of some of the businesses and on the sidewalks, with some flowers hanging
from pots from canopies that hung over the shops. The canopies had seen better days
too, but there was a certain small town charm about them, their faded colors at least
proving their staying power. Other storefronts were boarded up, or seemed abandoned.
She couldn’t really tell. None of the buildings were overly tall, perhaps three stories
at the most. In the distance she could make out clusters of what looked like warehouses,
taller than the buildings on the main drag, and in the opposite direction, Kyla could
see several large, brick buildings that looked like apartments.

She hit the button for the window and as the cool air hit her, she smiled. The smell
of the sea was stronger here, and she could see a low fog off on Cooper’s side. Although
the dilapidated buildings around her didn’t scream resort town, she didn’t care. The
beach and the salty air would make it all better.

“So was this where you’re supposed to end up?” Cooper asked.

“Not supposed to end up anywhere really, or didn’t plan to. But this place was definitely
not on my top ten places to be. I mean, does anyone intend to come here?”

“Nope, I reckon they don’t.” He got quiet, pulling into a space near the office door
and turning the truck off.

Kyla hopped down and rounded the back of the truck where Cooper was waiting. “The
motel that way?” she asked, pointing toward a cluster of nearby buildings that made
up a square. A large neon sign on the far window of a front building blinked the word
“office.” Between the buildings, she could see what looked to be a green area, some
picnic tables, and a large pool in the center. The whole place looked like it had
seen better days and could use a paint job, but whoever owned it tried to do what
they could. Hanging flowerpots were scattered about, and the windows had boxes with
colorful flowers in them. The parking lot that abutted the front building was close
to empty, with only three cars and a motorcycle in it. She noted the front building
of the hotel was separated from the garage by a narrow lot that ran the length of
both properties. It was perhaps twenty feet wide and seemed perfectly positioned to
break up the more industrial shop from the town’s only place for people to stay while
visiting. Unlike the motel, the garage had a chain link fence around it, though the
effect was broken by hedges in front of it, as if hiding the fence itself. Someone
clearly cared about appearances in the town, and she wondered if the hedges were Cooper’s
idea, or someone else’s.

She let her gaze wander, trying to take in as much as she could. Across the street
and about a block from the garage a group of men stood outside of a fast food joint
called Seaside Fried. She could just make out a blinking sign with the words “Stan’s
Bar” lit up a short distance from the motel, with what looked like a parking lot between
with weeds growing up through the pavement. Down the street, beyond the garage and
record store, was a large, concrete block, the police shield on the front of the building
over the door indicating its purpose. Next to that, the fire department doors were
opened, the trucks outside. Various shops were scattered on the other side of the
street, some looking like they were well kept, others with for sale or lease signs
in the windows.

“Motel should have a room for you. Don’t think they take fancy hotel points though.
And given the amount of luggage and clothes you have, you might have to get a room
for that alone,” he teased.

Kyla rolled her eyes at his mention of her clothes, a laugh bubbling from her lips.
“I’m sure I’ll get it all in one room, but thanks for your concern. I have very few
vices, clothes just happen to be one of them.”

He lifted his chin towards the motel door. “Get inside. But stop by the shop as soon
as you get settled. We’ll figure out what you want to do with your car.”

She nodded. “Thank you for the ride, Cooper. I’ll be over soon as I sort things out.”
She fidgeted before giving him a rare, full smile. She waved again and then headed
into the office.

• • •

Holy fuck, that smile. It hit Cooper out of the blue as he watched her turn the corner
of the fence and make the short walk to the motel parking lot. He felt Phil’s presence
as he continued to stare after her.

“Hey, Coop. Who’s the mystery babe? She’s hot.”

Cooper didn’t answer. Instead his eyes were glued to that heart-shaped ass, her hips,
and that hair. He didn’t know which he wanted to get his hands on first. The woman
certainly wasn’t petite. She couldn’t be at around 5’9. She had long hair that fell
just above her bra strap but it was thick and shone in the sun. The color wasn’t just
brown but shades of brown, auburn, and lighter brown, throughout. Her eyes were a
deep green and she had a full mouth which shined from whatever lip-gloss she had on.
She wasn’t stick thin, she couldn’t be with how tall she was, and with her tits and
that ass, and that was fine with him.

“Yeah she’s. . . something. Keys?” He took Kyla’s keys and headed for the Mustang,
sitting in the passenger seat and pilfering through the glove compartment. He got
her name and address, jotting it down on a scrap of paper in his pocket for the invoice.
“Kyla O’Grady of Rock River, Pennsylvania.” Cooper shoved the registration back into
the compartment and pushed off the seat.

Phil canted his head and then shook it slowly from side to side. He whistled, chuckling
as Cooper cut him a glare. “Jesus, man, what the hell? All you did was pick her up
on the side of the road and you’re practically drooling after her. Get a grip.” He
shrugged off Phil’s hand clapped down on his shoulder. Cooper was a big guy, but had
more muscle, not to mention was taller by about three inches than Phil.

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s get to work.” He turned and walked toward the garage, doing
his best to ignore Phil’s chuckling behind him. Yet, even as he rolled under one of
the cars to work on an oil change, he couldn’t get Kyla’s face out of his head. She
was sweet, and her big eyes and bright smile made his dick hard. But he also noticed
other things, subtle movements that made him curious about Kyla’s background. He had
seen the way she’d fidgeted and tucked into herself when they were in the truck. He
had also seen her initial reaction to Phil, when he saw a look of terror flash in
her eyes. It pissed him off that someone or something had put that fear there. He
wanted to know who or what had done it, and use his fists to make them regret ever
hurting Kyla.