Page 2 of Fall Love

But the newest offer was one Lumi suggested we should not refuse. Even I had to admit the excessive number of zeroes looked pretty. Along with the dollar sign came a promise that the new owner would do a lot with the property. I imagined an auto-repair shop with high-tech equipment and a beautification facelift that kept with the theme of this coastal town. My hope was the new owners might keep me on as an employee. I had talent, plus history.

Saying goodbye was just too difficult to consider.

If I had this much trouble letting go of a building, no wonder I haven’t ever been in love. Saying goodbye to people you love was truly painful. I had firsthand experience. Twice. Mom. Then Dad.

When it came to men, I had a love ’em and leave ’em attitude. I preferred it that way. Summer folk and winter tourists were the best for that kind of situation. No feelings involved. No promises made. One night. Maybe two. A week tops. Those goodbyes were easy.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

As for invested relationships? Forget about it.

Which is why I hope the new owner will let me stay. Then I don’t have to say farewell. Not really.

Eventually, I’ll just need to take a small break. A week tops, I told Lumi.

More like twelve, when the time comes, she argued.

She is out of her mind. I can’t afford to go without work for more than a week.

And the vehicle currently in front of me isn’t going to fix itself. The RAV4 needs an oil change plus a transmission flush. Simple enough, but even that is getting more difficult for me. My ankles are swollen something crazy, thanks to the lingering summer heat. My back aches if I stand too long on the hard cement floor. And my belly gets in the way of bending over the open hood.

All the more reason to appreciate fall. Cooler temps. Fresher air. Less work.

“Hello?” Someone hollers behind me as I’m bent over the engine with my back to the open garage-bay door. “Are you Lumi?”

“Just a second, please,” I holler through the KN95 face mask I’m wearing, but I freeze, because I’m certain I know that voice. A voice that haunts the wild dreams I’ve been having lately. A voice that once whispered how beautiful he thought I was. Spellbinding, he called me.

But it couldn’t be him. He’d been here and gone over New Year’s.

The weird calendar connection wasn’t lost on me. New Year’s Eve. All Hallows’ Eve. I swear, I was getting as quirky as Dad some days.

Reaching for the red rag draped over the side of the SUV, I scrub at my fingers before tugging the mask that cuts down on fumes to the top of my forehead. Then I turn, coming face to face with a man in a fitted blue suit, crisp white shirt, polished leather shoes, and a slim silver tie. He looks like he’s headed to a wedding and is sorely out of place in this dingy garage.

He stares at me with familiar eyes. Rich, bright brown ones that match the depth of the haunting voice.

“Driver?” I choke on what I’m one thousand percent certain isn’t his actual name. When we met, he’d been dressed like a racecar driver for the New Year’s Eve costume party I’d been invited to. I mean, why wear a costume only for Halloween? All night, I’d called him by the nickname, never exchanging our real ones, which was all the better for me. I liked the anonymity, especially with a one-night fling. January first was the last time I saw him.

I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.

And, not one stitch of him looks like a hot-as-sin racecar driver right now.

A cold sweat slithers down my spine, having nothing to do with the early autumn breeze blowing off the cove, and everything to do with why he might be here, looking for Lumi.

I expect him to ask again for my sister, but those tempting eyes widen as he does a slow perusal of my body and land on my belly.

His face morphs from shock to something softer, but his voice is hard when he blurts, “You’re pregnant?”

CHAPTER 2

[Tate]

“You’re pregnant?” The words echo around the cavernous garage.

A blunt question wasn’t the way I’d typically greet someone. Especially someone I haven’t seen for nine months. Someone who hasn’t left my thoughts, because she’d been the one to break a long dry spell and then put me into another one. Not that I minded. I didn’t really care for one-night stands, but it had been New Year’s Eve. Alcohol had been involved, along with a dare from my stupid cousins.

“Driver,” she’d called me, because of the authentic racing costume I’d worn. “Or do you prefer to be ridden?”

I’d never had a woman come on to me so quickly, so refreshingly forceful, and cute as a button while looking equally tough, dressed in mechanic overalls with a red bandana around the short waves of her black hair.