Heart of Dixie - Tami Hoag (1)

Heart of Dixie - Tami Hoag (1) Read Free

Book: Heart of Dixie - Tami Hoag (1) Read Free
Author: Tami Hoag
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it did this kind of chukka-chukka thing and a big white cloud came out from under the hood."

    This news was met with a pained expression. "How far did you drive it after that?"

    "Not far. A couple of miles." She grimaced and he recanted. "No, wait, maybe it was only a mile or a few hundred yards. It probably just seemed farther. And I was coasting most of the way. I'm sure it just got a little hot. It's probably fine."

    "You're not real handy with cars, are you." It was more a statement than a question.

    Jake's male pride bristled. He squared his wide shoulders and set his jaw at a truculent angle, but the only argument he could come back with was a juvenile- sounding, "So?"

    His inability with machines had been apparent from an early age. He had landed himself in the emergency room the very day he'd been given his first--and last--Erector Set. People who knew him generally avoided being anywhere in the vicinity when he was working with anything that remotely resembled a power tool. He considered his lack of mechanical talent a terrible flaw in his character, one he had cursed and puzzled over his whole life. He might have declared up and down that he wasn't a chauvinist, but the fact of the matter was, he had the idea engraved on his brain that men were supposed to be good with machines and he was not. He was a man's man, an athlete's athlete, and he was having to surrender his Porsche to a curvy brunette. It rankled big time and all he could do was scowl.

    Shaking her head, his lady rescuer shooed him aside, not intimidated in the least. She released the catch and lifted the hood on the Porsche. Jake watched her poke around at the engine, checking belts and hoses, making the kind of significant humming sounds doctors make when they really want to worry a person sick.

    "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, his hands itching to pull her away from his baby.

    "Hmmm...ummm..." She bent over into the guts of the car, sticking her heart-shaped fanny up as she tried to scoot down closer to a malevolent-looking appendage with wires sticking out of it.

    Jake's attention momentarily drifted from the car to the derriere. Her sweater had ridden up around her waist, revealing age-thinned denim that hugged a delightfully rounded rear. He was traditionally a leg man, but this angle was giving him a whole new perspective on the female form. He would have enjoyed the view a whole lot more if the woman hadn't been clanging a wrench around inside his pride and joy, however. He winced and groaned as if she were twisting his own body parts. Then she straightened, dug a small oily rag out of her front pocket and carefully opened the car's radiator cap.

    "Hmmm..."

    His heartbeat quickened. He pushed the image of her fanny from his mind and leaned beside her over the engine. "What? That sounded more ominous than the other `hmms.' What is it?"

    "Hmmm..."

    Dixie turned her head. He was right there. Close enough for her to catch the scent of mint on his breath. Close enough to see three different shades of gold in his hair and the faint shadow of his beard on the hard planes of his cheeks. Close enough to lean over and kiss if she were to completely lose all common sense.

    "There's nothing in your radiator," she whispered breathlessly, desire grabbing her by the throat.

    He blinked at her, looking a little mesmerized, then he shook his head and cleared his throat. "That's bad," he mumbled, his gaze straying to her lips. "Even I know that's bad. What do we do?"

    Trying to shake off the spell of his closeness, Dixie replaced the radiator cap, motioned him back and closed the hood. "Nothing to do but haul her in and have a better look. Could be the water pump, could be a hose down underneath, could be a puncture in the radiator." She looked up at him with a grave, earnest expression. "You might have blown the engine."

    A pitiful sound of dread and suffering caught in his throat. He paled visibly beneath his tan. Dixie

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