She nearly collided with Ben coming out of the store.
“Whoa,” he said, checking his cart before he ran her down.
Before she could think, she blurted, “Can you help me?” Her face heated as he stared at her. “Ah, never mind. I’ll find …” She gestured vaguely behind him but he shook his head.
“What do you need?”
“My car won’t start. I think the battery’s dead. The dome light’s been staying on longer than it should and it didn’t go off at all this time. I don’t have any jumper cables.” Realizing she was babbling, she clamped her mouth shut.
He nodded. “Where are you parked?”
She pointed. “There. The silver one.” Which he no doubt already knew, since he’d seen her in it the other night. “The space in front of me is open.”
“Okay. Give me a minute. I’ll pull around.”
He walked off and she stared after him. Shoot. Why hadn’t she found someone else? On the other hand, the whole process wouldn’t take very long. Then she could be on her way back home to fix her dinner and curl up in her bed.
The wind picked up, skittering dry leaves across the parking lot, and she tucked her hands under her arms to keep warm as she went back to her car. She propped the hood open as a big black truck rumbled into the empty spot.
Ben got out, cables already in hand, and went to work on her battery. Even though she knew how to hook them up—her mother would be appalled—she let him do it, because it was easier than having his carefully bland gaze on her.
He glanced up. “Do you know how to do this?”
Something in his tone made her bristle. She lifted her chin just a bit. “Actually, I do. I can even change a tire.”
His mouth twitched in what could have been a prequel to a smile. “Good for you.”
Before she could reply, a voice shrilled nearby. “Lainey? Lainey Keeler, is that you?”
Ben returned to the battery and the fragile moment was shattered. Lainey internally groaned as she turned to see Martha Turner, one of her mother’s best friends, hurrying toward her.
“Hi, Mrs. Turner.”
“Goodness, what are you doing?” The woman peeked around Lainey and frowned. “Do your parents know you have car trouble? I just left your mother at the Club. Have you called her yet? I’ll never understand why you traded in that cute little coupe your husband bought you for—for this.” She fluttered her hands at the car.
Not offended, Lainey bit back a laugh. She had to be the only person who’d ever traded in a new car for a used one. “Of course I didn’t bother either of them, Mrs. Turner. It’s really not a big deal. Just a dead battery.”
Behind her, Ben cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to start the truck now. It’s loud.”
“Okay.” She gave Mrs. Turner an apologetic smile. “It was nice to see you.”
Mrs. Turner’s gaze went to Ben, reaching into the cab of the truck, then back to Lainey. “You too, dear. Take care.”
Lainey could almost see the wheels turning in the other woman’s head and imagined her mother would get a phone call before Mrs. Turner even made it inside Frank’s. She sighed. She’d get her own call in a matter of minutes after that, and spend a half an hour calming her mother all over nothing.
So much for a relaxing evening.
Ben came back around and stood, hands in pockets, staring at her engine. Finally he lifted his gaze. “What did you trade in?”
Not exactly sure how to interpret his tone, she spoke carefully. “A Mercedes. After my divorce.”
She didn’t mention the sleek little car had been a bribe—an attempt to keep her in the marriage. Getting rid of it had been a victory of sorts. One of the very few she’d managed.
She caught a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “That’s funny?”
He rocked back on his heels. “Not the divorce. The car. I wouldn’t think—” He stopped and she frowned.
“Think what?”
He looked at her, amusement gone, and seemed actually to see straight into her. The full effect of his gaze caused a funny little hitch in her breath. “I think you can start the engine now,” he said, and she swallowed a surge of disappointment.
Which was crazy. She didn’t care what he thought of her.
She slid into the car and tried not to notice when he braced one arm on the roof of the car and the other on the top of the door. When he leaned down she got a tantalizing glimpse of the smooth, hard muscles of his chest through the gap in his partially unbuttoned shirt.
Her mouth went dry.
“Go ahead and see if it’ll start.”
His voice slid over her skin and she gave a little shiver. She caught a whiff of his scent—a yummy combination of soap and spice. A little curl of heat slipped through her belly. She reached for the ignition and hoped he didn’t notice her shaking hand. The engine turned over on the first try.
“You should be all set now,” he said, straightening up. “Drive it around a bit to let the battery charge up.”
“I will. Thank you,” she said, and meant it. “I appreciate it.”
He shrugged and stepped back. “No problem. I’d have done it for anyone.”
Her little hormonal buzz evaporated. Of course he would. After all, she’d practically attacked him when he came out of the store.
“Well, see you around,” she said, and he gave her a nod and then disappeared around the front of her car.
She sat for a moment, waiting for him to unhook the cables, and gave herself a reality check. She was two months pregnant. Being attracted to a man right now couldn’t be more foolish—and she’d learned the hard way what a poor judge of men she was. She’d paid dearly for that mistake. Her focus was her shop, her baby, and making her life work without her parents hovering over her, waiting for her to fail.
Clearly these pregnancy hormones threw her off balance.
The hood of the car dropped with a thud and the sudden glare of headlights made her blink. With a little wave, in case he could see, she put her car in gear and backed out of her spot, then drove the long way through town back to her apartment. Ben stayed a respectable distance behind, but the thoughtful gesture gave her an unwelcome frisson of warmth.
Under his gruff exterior, Ben Lawless was a gentleman.
Somehow that made him more dangerous.
Lainey let herself in to her apartment, not allowing herself to glance after Ben’s truck as he drove on by. Her phone rang. She dug it out of her bag and checked the display. Ah, here was the call she’d been dreading.
“Hi, Mother,” she said into the phone, as a purring Panda wound between her feet.
“Hi, dear,” Jacqui Keeler trilled. “I’m almost there. Let me in, love.”
That hadn’t taken long. Mrs. Turner must have really run up the alarm if she was getting a visit, too. Lainey dumped her bags on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “Here? Why?”
“Can’t I simply visit with my daughter?”