Page 11 of Wheelie's Challenge
Sofia dashed to the window and waited for fifteen minutes after seeing Tigger’s Harley disappear before she went into the bedroom and changed her clothes. She spent some extra time applying mascara and eyeliner to her green eyes, making sure not to put too much on in case Tigger was home when she returned.
After she checked to see if she had all the ingredients for the beef noodle casserole Tigger loved, she picked up the truck keys and headed out.
As she approached the car wash, the jitteriness she’d been able to manage since learning she’d see Wheelie again got the better of her, and she pulled over to the side of the street and breathed in and out deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves. For several minutes she stared at the building, watching dirty cars turn in and clean ones come out. Finally, she pulled away from the curb and merged back into the traffic.
“Full wash? You wanna wax?” a man in his thirties asked her—a pen and pad in his hand.
“Yes on the full wash, and no on the wax.” She glanced around but there was no sign of Wheelie.
“Here you go,” the man said, handing her a yellow slip of paper. “Just go inside and take it to the cashier.”
The back doors opened and two men started vacuuming the carpet. She jumped out of the pickup and walked into the building. The aroma of rubber, soap, and pine permeated the air, and she passed racks of car mats, deodorizers, ice scrapers, windshield wipers, and greeting cards as she made her way to the cashier. Again she looked around for Wheelie, but there was no sign of him. Sadness began to descend over her.
“Do you got your ticket? The yellow piece of paper Ron gave you?” the dark-haired cashier asked.
Sofia gave her the bill and wondered how the young woman could do anything with her long fingernails. She guessed them to be about two inches long and were painted different colors with a multitude of designs and crystals on them.
“That’ll be fifteen dollars,” the woman said.
“Sofia, I didn’t think you were coming until this afternoon,” Wheelie’s voice said behind her. “And why the fuck are you paying?”
She whirled around and her stomach did a flip-flop when she saw him walking toward her. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt, his hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the silver hoop in his right ear shone under the overhead florescent lights. The dark five o’clock shadow he sported made his smiling face more handsome.
“I decided to come earlier,” she said, securing her purse on her shoulder. “I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage by not paying.”
Wheelie shook his head. “Miranda, this is a comp.”
“Thanks,” Sofia said softly. “There’s a lot of dirt in the truck’s bed.”
Wheelie craned his neck toward glass windows that revealed machines washing the vehicles. “Let me see if I can catch the truck before it goes in for a washing. Be right back.”
Sofia watched him walk away, noticing how firm his butt was in his snug blue jeans. A flutter of arousal skated from the tips of her breasts, down her stomach, and straight to the ache between her legs.
“So, are you paying or not?” the young woman asked.
Sofia took out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her. “Can you give me the change in singles, please?”
The woman handed her five one-dollar bills then looked over Sofia’s shoulders at the man behind her. “Do you have the yellow piece of paper Ron gave you?”
Sofia moved aside then walked over to the windows and stared at a blue car as the machines sprayed soap all over it before moving around it in circles.
“Caught it in time,” Wheelie said. “With that much dirt in it, it’s better to vacuum it out otherwise it can be a muddy mess.”
She jumped at his voice. “That’s good. It looks really different in here from when old man Jenkins had the place. It looks so bright and modern.”
“I like the way it turned out. I sent photos to Diesel and he thinks it looks like something that should be in Denver.”
“I forgot he’s part owner. When’s he getting out?”
“It was supposed to be in August, but he got in a fight with some fuck, so it bought him a few months more on his sentence.” Wheelie laughed. “Should be out around the end of the year. You wanna Coke or something? We can go to my office.” With an outstretched arm, he gestured to a room on the left. She went inside and he came in behind her, closing the door.
The scent of him filled her senses. He smelled purely male: leather, motor oil, and fresh air. And… something she couldn’t identify; it was earthy and erotic and spoke to her of the forbidden.
With shaky legs, she walked over to the chair in front of his desk, her fingers gripping the arms as she sat down. The pop from the can made her jump, and Wheelie’s deep chuckle wrapped around her.
“Here you go,” he said, placing the can in front of her. He walked around and sat down, facing her. “I’m glad you’re here.” His gaze locked in on her, and she shifted in the chair. “What’ve you been up to?”
Sofia ran her hand over her dark brown hair, smoothing it down. “Not much. I’m going to plant a garden in the back. Flowers and some vegetables like zucchini and peppers. Maybe tomatoes. Also herbs like cilantro and basil.” She took a gulp of Coke and pressed her lips together, suppressing a burp. All the while, Wheelie’s gaze penetrated her. “I’ll give you some zucchini once they come. Peppers too. If you like. Do you even eat vegetables?” Another large gulp of soda.
