Hittin It: A Hitman Romance (Marked for Love Book 2) Read Free Page B

“I’ll be right back,” I mouthed, lightly tapping the glass.
    Inside, a window unit blew full tilt, pouring damp, dirty-smelling air into every corner of the empty room. Three chairs were carelessly positioned against one wall, a white counter smudged with grease-stains took up the other, and two metal stands held Thrifty Nickels and Greensheets . A rattling, gasping soda machine that looked almost as old as my van took up the remaining wall. The garage door opened with a cringe-worthy squeal.
    “Help you?”
    “My van broke down outside of town. Can you give me a tow?” And please, God, can it not cost too much? I sucked in my gut and gave him my sweetest smile, hoping to win him over. “And take a look at it.”
    Wiping his hands on a red rag, he looked me up and down, a slow grin crossing his sweaty, grease-encrusted face. He wasn’t bad looking, but it had obviously been a while since he’d gotten intimate with the Irish Spring and Mister Razor. He shrugged and glanced over my shoulder toward Roy’s SUV, then stuffed the battered rag into the back pocket of his overalls. “I’m alone today, and pretty backed up.”
    Sighing, I forced myself to think of Scamp lying dead in the highway, and how horrible I’d feel if I lost my only friend. Tears filled my eyes and a lump clogged my throat, while my fingers knotted in my skirt. “I really...” I sniffed, waving my hands around helplessly.
    “We close at six.” He moved closer, close enough for me to see the avaricious gleam in his clear blue eyes and inhale the scent of his sweat mixed with grease. “I can take you out there then. Check out your van.”
    Check out my pussy was more like it. I bit my lip and raised my shoulder, getting ready to give him a nice healthy shrug, when the door jangled and Scamp barked.
    “Your dog pissed in my car.” Roy stood holding Scamp like he was some sort of diseased rodent, one hand gripping the scruff of his neck, one under his belly. Scamp didn’t look at all contrite. Or happy.
    “I...” I glanced from Roy to Scamp to Garage Dude. “I’m really sorry.” I reached for my puppy.
    “What’s wrong with your van?” the mechanic asked.
    “It overheated,” I said.
    “I thought you said the engine was shot,” Roy added, taking away my chance to act dumb and helpless later when Garage Dude came to tell me that I’d probably blown the van’s heads. They’d been on their last legs anyway, but I’d hoped the engine would hold out until after the fair in San Antonio when I’d be a little more flush.
    “I said I hoped it wasn’t.” I gave him a pointed look, praying he’d shut up before he cost me anymore money.
    “Can you fix her van?” Roy demanded, brushing at the front of his immaculate yellow polo shirt.
    “I already told her it’d be after six before I could even go out there and get it.”
    Roy asked, leveling his gaze on me. “You staying here then?”
    “I’m...yeah.” I nodded and sighed, glad I’d have Scamp for company. My options were stay here...or stay here, and it was going to be a long day, regardless.
    “I’ll take care of her.” Garage Dude grinned, nodding in Roy’s direction.
    I had a feeling the engine repairs were going to cost me big time . With one last sigh, I followed Roy outside. “Thanks again for the ride.”
    He slipped his sunglasses off, revealing warm grey eyes and a fierce scowl. “You sure you want to stay here?”
    Apparently, Roy wasn’t as dense as I’d thought back there in the garage. From the concern on his face, he’d obviously figured out exactly how much those repairs were going to cost me. And how I planned on paying for them. His concern caught me off guard and made me sad. I almost wished our ride had lasted a little longer. That I’d had a little more time to see what was under that stoic exterior.
    “I’m sure. But thanks.”
    * * *
    T wo hours later I stepped outside with Scamp on his makeshift leash. He’d started whining for another