Claimed by the Mechanic Read online

  Claimed by the Mechanic

  Copyright ©2019 Izzy Slam

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction intended for mature readers. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All characters depicted in this story are fictional, not blood related, and are consenting adults over the age of 18 years.

  Description

  Daisy

  All I wanted was a fresh start, a new beginning, a chance to stand on my own two feet after being dumped and duped. And then I find myself in a strange town when my car decides to break down, in the middle of the night, no less.

  I barely have enough cash for a down payment on my new apartment that’s waiting on me ~ along with a new job ~ five hundred miles away. How the hell am I supposed to come up with money for a new engine?

  And can I trust the local mechanic, who’s offering me the deal of a lifetime? Looks like I don’t have much of a choice. I’m at his mercy, with nowhere to stay and no mode of transportation.

  I hope I can trust him to be a gentleman, even though my body is craving his touch. Because my heart can’t take being fooled again.

  Ranger

  I’ve never believed in fate or soul mates, love at first sight, or even destiny.

  But the moment this brunette beauty walks up to my garage at the stroke of midnight, I curse everything I’ve never believed.

  Daisy is like the perfect combination of sensual sex appeal, angelic beauty, and good-girl charm ~ from her timid smile to her curvy hips, all the way down to her pink-painted toenails.

  Fuck.

  This girl has got my motor running. And I don’t care if her engine needs rebuilding and she doesn’t have a dime to her name. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her around.

  For good.

  Daisy

  I take a sip of coffee and turn up the radio, dancing in the seat as I drive down the barely-lit, two-lane country road. It’s nearly midnight, and I’m pretty sure I saw signs for a service station where I can park the car and catch some sleep for the night. If not, I’ll just have to wing it until I find a quiet spot.

  I’m not really all that tired anyway. I’ve been ramped up all day, looking forward to starting a new life up north.

  As far away from Dustin as I can get.

  The asshole who broke my heart and left me at the altar, three days after my 19th birthday.

  Technically, he didn’t leave me at the altar, per se. We were supposed to get married at the courthouse downtown. But after waiting several hours for him to show up, only to find out from a friend of a friend that he’d gotten drunk the night before and slept with my cousin, I left with both the marriage license and bouquet of roses in hand, tossing them in the garbage on the way out the door.

  I did leave with a broken heart, however. And it took me six months to save up enough money from my job as a cashier to relocate. One of my high school friends moved to Pennsylvania, and she got me a position at a small dental practice as a receptionist. I’m supposed to start next Monday, which gives me enough time to settle into my new apartment and forget about my stupid, selfish ex.

  In retrospect, I think I was using Dustin as an escape from my deadbeat parents who basically spend most of their time snorting coke when they’re not passed out drunk. But I still loved him, and I still trusted him to not break my heart.

  I hear a song come on the radio that reminds me of him, and I quickly hit the scan button, right about the time my car backfires with so much force I nearly veer off the road.

  “Shit!”

  My heart races as I quickly regain control of the car.

  I take a few calming breaths, glancing in the rear-view mirror and wondering if it was my car or if someone shot a rifle in my direction. I mean, it was so loud.

  I get my answer pretty quickly.

  After a few hard jerks and jolts, my twenty-year-old sedan pops three times, this round accompanied by the stench of oil and gasoline.

  Fumes waft through the vents, the odor so strong I can’t help but cough. And finally, the engine conks out and I find myself slowing from 55 to 35 mph in the blink of an eye.

  Fear grips me as I pump the brakes, but luckily I manage to pull off to the shoulder and slow to a stop without much trouble.

  With a death grip on the steering wheel, I sit in the dark, silently praying that whatever happened was just a fluke.

  That my car isn’t dead.

  That I’m not … actually stuck here.

  I twist the key and the engine rolls several times as it struggles to start. More popping comes from the tailpipe but then the engine just goes dead. No matter how many times I turn the key now, it’s useless.

  My head falls to the steering wheel as I fight the tears.

  This can’t be happening.

  But it is happening. And it’s happening in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.

  “Great!” I blurt out, hitting the side of my hand against the wheel.

  I stare out at the road ahead, trying to spot any sign of civilization. Not that it would matter. But if I’m stuck here all night, it sure would help to have somewhere close to walk to in the morning.

  As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I make out the shape of a building up ahead and to my right. Smoke from the engine blows around in the night air, but within a few seconds, I think I can see where the grass ends and the entrance begins.

  It must be the service station where I planned to sleep tonight. Which is really freaking ironic that my car broke down right before I could pull into the lot.

  I grab my phone from the console and stare at it for a few moments. My parents might be able to wire me some money, at least for a tow. God, I hate even thinking about calling them, especially since I didn’t exactly leave on good terms. But parents are supposed to love their kids no matter what, right? Help them out when they’re in trouble?

  I place the call, keeping my fingers and toes crossed. Despite the late hour, they’re probably just getting started with partying and should answer. Unless they’re so wasted they don’t even hear the phone ringing.

  But the phone never even rings, not on my end, anyway. And when I glance at the bars on the screen, I can see that I don’t even have a signal.

  Tossing my phone back on the seat, I officially want to rip my hair out. I glance up ahead, wondering if there’s a payphone at the service station. The thought of walking there in this pitch-black darkness sends shivers up my spine, but I know waiting would be a mistake. They could be passed out until noon tomorrow, especially if my dad has the day off.

  After grabbing some quarters from my wallet, I reach to the back seat for my sweatshirt and head out into the dark with a wish and a prayer.

  Ranger

  I push my toolbox underneath the table and make sure the front door is locked up for the night, feeling a little frustrated. I’ve been here at the garage all day and night, trying to get this ’67 Camaro fixed for a new customer. Don’t get me wrong. I love working on older cars but this one needs transmission work and it’s being a real bear. I was hoping to get it finished tonight so I could call the owner first thing in the morning, but I’ll have to wait until my guys come in tomorrow so they can help.

  I’m also a little
frustrated because I should be at home, sucking down a beer or curled up on the couch next to a nice, warm-blooded female. One I could take to bed with me and have a nice cuddlefuck, or a rough chokefuck. Either or.

  I’m down for both, to be honest. Been way too fucking long since I’ve felt the touch of a woman. The last girl I dated wanted something more serious than what I could give, saying we were “destined” to be together. But I just didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to because she was pretty and all. And I did like her okay, but not enough to commit the rest of my life to her. Hell, I didn’t really like her enough to commit a whole month.

  I know that makes me a dick but at least I was honest with her.

  I don’t believe in that destiny bullshit anyway. Don’t believe in soul mates. Or love at first sight. I believe that you either want to be with someone or you don’t. Nothing is written in the stars. Everything is happenstance.

  And right now, if I’m being honest, I’d just as soon find someone who wants to fuck every now and then. No strings.

  That’s hard to find around here, though. Small town like this, most nice girls are taken. And I ashamedly admit that the ones who aren’t, well, I’ve already been with most of them.

  Like I said, I know. I’m a dick.

  But tonight, I’m an exhausted dick who just needs to hang up the mechanic’s hat and call it a day.

  It’s nearing midnight when I pick up my phone off the wooden table, the blue notification light blinking steadily at me. And my mom’s message on the home screen makes my chest ache.

  I open up our exchange from earlier and reread the messages:

  Come to your uncle’s house this weekend and bring your lovely girl.

  I’ll see what I can do, mom. She might be busy. She works a lot.

  I don’t have much time, Ranger. I just want to meet her before it’s too late.

  I’ll do my best. I love you, mom.

  I know sweetheart. I love you too.

  Damn, talk about guilt. My mom has always had that hold over me, though. She busted her ass to raise me and my brother, and with no help from my dad. And now, who knows how much time she’s got left to live. She’s been bugging me to get married for years, but really started putting the pressure on after her cancer diagnosis, reminding me that most 30-year-old men have at least settled down with a partner.

  So I lied and told her I met someone a few weeks ago.

  So I just wanted to bring some joy into her life before she passes on to the other side.

  So I don’t really have anyone that’s special or that means anything to me.

  I don’t know how I’m going to handle this, but now is no time to worry about it.

  I walk through the work bay and into the office, dropping a few quarters into the snack machine. Right after cracking open my soda, I hear gunfire, way off in the distance, freezing me in place. I hadn’t realized I’d left the office window open, allowing the booming noise to filter through. I glance at the clock on the wall, noticing that it’s nearly midnight. A little late for this sort of thing.

  With my hackles up, I walk to the window and give another listen. Several seconds pass when I hear it again. Sounds a lot closer now, and like it’s coming from the highway. And like it’s not a gun whatsoever but a car backfiring.

  I feel sorry for whoever it is because I know it must suck to be traveling at this hour and have to deal with that bullshit. I don’t see any headlights, though, so I have to wonder if it’s some joker on one of the dirt roads that runs along the woods near the shop here.

  “Dumbass kids,” I mutter, closing the window and twisting the lock.

  I get my shit together and head back to the work bay, making sure the garage doors are locked up for the night and the lights are off before checking the front service entrance.

  And that’s when I see a figure heading my way.

  They’re walking slowly, cautiously. Can’t say I blame them since they appear to be alone. A breeze picks up and I see a whirlwind of hair. So, she’s alone.

  I flip on the overhead lights and open the door, getting a burst of cool air. It’s early September, but the temps have really plunged tonight.

  When I step outside, I can see that she’s hugging herself. And she’s slowed down to a snail’s pace, letting me know she’s intimidated.

  “You alright, miss?”

  “I think so. But, uh, my car…?”

  She tosses a thumb over her shoulder and takes a few more steps in my direction.

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “It’s …completely dead.”

  I pick up on a slight southern accent as she steps forward. The light from the office slowly climbs up her body, and I drink her in … one foot at a time, one leg at a time, one sexy curve at a time.

  Holy fuck. Yeah, she’s definitely not a local.

  Her long, brown hair flows down her shoulders, hesitance and fear all over her pretty face. Damn. Is it wrong that I want to kill whatever is making her scared right now?

  “Come on in.” I wave her towards me, but she just licks her lips. “It’s okay. I own the place. I won’t bite ya.”

  She relaxes her shoulders and laughs softly, ultimately following me inside. I close the door and lock it, wondering if that will reassure her or frighten her more.

  “I’m really sorry to bother you with all this. I just need to use your phone, if that’s okay? I don’t have a signal out here.”

  When I turn to face her, I get a better look at her. And damn if she doesn’t steal my fucking breath.

  Her light green eyes pull me right in, and even though she’s wearing a thick sweatshirt, I can still see she’s somewhat petite up top, despite the sexy roundness of her hips and thighs. Tight, fitted jeans lead all the way down her legs, all the way to her toenails that are speared by the “V” of her flip-flops. And they’re painted bright pink.

  Jesus. Kill me now.

  “You can use my phone if you need, long as you’re not calling China.” I smile and pick up the only phone I have in the office, passing it her way.

  “It’s long distance, but not out of the country. Heck, if I knew anyone in China, I’d probably be living there instead of here, the way my luck is running these days.”

  “I get that,” I tell her, figuring she must be going through some serious shit. Hell, it’s written all over her face.

  She shakes her head in exasperation as she dials a number, then presses the phone to her ear.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell her.

  Her eyes float to mine before I turn around, and she gives me a quick nod.

  I head to the coffee pot on the counter in the work bay, and luckily the carafe is still warm. I grab two Styrofoam cups and pour each about half full. Looks like I’ll be here for a while longer while this girl—this gorgeous thing that’s got me damn cross-eyed right about now—waits for someone to come get her.

  While in the bay, I pick up on bits and pieces of her conversation. Sounds like whoever she’s talking with isn’t going to make it, at least not tonight. Her voice lifts in frustration, and then it cracks as she tells them to just forget it.

  I hear the phone hit the desk and pick up the coffees before walking back to her. She sees me and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, and I wonder who the fuck I need to punch out.

  “It’s not the best coffee in the world. Hell, it probably isn’t even good. But it’s free.”

  I pass the cup her way, and she laughs without smiling before sniffling. “Thanks. I need all the free stuff I can get.”

  Jesus. The sound of her voice, the way she looks out the window as she holds the cup to her lips and takes a sip, the forlorn look in her eyes like she just wants to give up on life... All these things are tugging at my heart. And yet … she’s making my blood pump a little harder, pumping right through my cock that’s getting hard.

  I don’t know why she’s having this effect on me.

  I don’t even know this girl.

  I j
ust know I want her.

  Need her.

  Fuck, what was I saying about not believing in soul mates?

  Daisy

  “Name’s Ranger, by the way.”

  I force a smile as he leans against the wall, feeling like I want to crawl away somewhere and hide. “I’m Daisy. You said this was your shop?”

  “Sure is.”

  “As in, you fix cars? Bikes?”

  “Cars. And I’d be happy to take a look at yours in the morning when the sun’s up. I’d look at it right now but it’s like the black hole of darkness out there.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to look at it this late anyway. I feel bad for bothering you at all at this hour.”

  “You didn’t bother me. Not one bit.”

  He sweeps his gaze over me, and these little ripples dance along my flesh. He’s a big guy with loads of muscles and hot as can be. I mean, he’s got black oil smeared up and down his arms, face, and jeans. But for whatever reason, it’s pretty sexy. Normally, I’d be put off by a guy looking me up and down like a fresh piece of meat, but Ranger isn’t giving me the creeps at all. I’m actually relieved he’s here.

  But at the same time, I can’t exactly ask him to stick around all night. And seeing as I have no place to go, and no one to go with, I’m kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  As it is, I barely have enough money for a down payment on this apartment in Pennsylvania. I sure as heck don’t have enough for a hotel, much less car repairs.

  Regardless, none of this is Ranger’s problem.

  “So … you need a ride to a friend’s house?”

  “Oh, no. I’m not—” I start to tell him I’m not from around here, but I don’t want to involve him in my personal life. Or my drama. “I’m good, but thanks. They’re actually coming to get me, should be here in ten or fifteen minutes. I’ll just wait in my car.”