Meet Cute Bonus Scene
I drummed my thumbs against the steering wheel to the beat of the music in my head as I cruised along the Pacific Coast Highway. I was wired still from our show on the road last night, luckily. It was the only thing keeping me awake right now on my drive back. I wished I could’ve slept in with the others at the motel, but Frankie needed me at the shop while he recovered. I didn’t want to give the stubborn bastard any excuse to sneak over to the shop today. He needed his rest, whether he agreed with me and his doctor.
I continued to hum along with my tapping, getting lost in the music, when a vehicle a few cars ahead of me slammed on their brakes before swerving to the right onto the shoulder. The cars directly behind sped past. Letting off the gas pedal, I slowed my truck as I grew nearer. A woman had climbed out from the driver’s side and stood staring at her front passenger tire with her phone in hand.
Checking the time on the dash clock, I cursed. I was going to be late getting to the shop if I stopped to help. But I wouldn’t feel right leaving a woman stranded on the side of the road by herself. Turning on my hazards, I rolled to a stop on the shoulder a little way behind her before climbing out of my truck.
“Crud. Dang it. Stupid, stupid crappy tire,” she huffed, kicking the deflated puddle of rubber.
The woman cursed like a fifth grader. It was cute and I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. “Those are some fiery words. I think you might’ve hurt its feelings.”
She startled, and then rotated, throwing her hands on her hips as she glared at me. One look at her, and I immediately recognized her from being the woman that owned the silver Camaro currently sitting in Frankie’s shop.
She was gorgeous, there was no denying it. I’d noticed her the first time she walked into the shop. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her as she confidently strutted into the waiting area in her tiny cut-off shorts and frilly pink blouse. She’d been too busy convincing Danny the damage to her car wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t even noticed me before I slipped back into the shop bay. Which isn’t surprising, considering how much she was out of my league. I had no doubt about it, glancing between her and the Bentley GT she was currently driving.
The thought irritated me. The way she was glaring back at me confirmed she likely agreed I wasn’t worth her time.
She obviously came from money. Not just from the two cars I’d seen her drive, but from the way she dressed and carried herself.
Normally, that would’ve been enough for me to steer clear of her. My experience with people with that kind of money and power wasn’t a good one. Regardless, I couldn’t help but being drawn to her.
“Can I help you?” she clipped with a fiery attitude.
My irritation grew and my fists clenched as I crossed my arms. “Help me? It looks like you’re the one in need of some help,” I retorted, glancing at her flat tire.
She paused, considering her predicament, before letting out a huff.
“Well, are you going to help me, or did you just stop to taunt me?” She mimicked me, crossing her arms over her ample chest, distracting me momentarily.
This woman was most likely treated like a princess her whole life. In the back of my mind, I had to admit, a part of me would do the same if she were mine. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t make her work for it a little.
“Are you asking for help, princess?”
“No,” she said defiantly.
“Really?” I snorted, amused. “You sure about that?”
She opened her mouth, but was cut off by the ringing of her cell phone. She glanced down at the phone in her hand and groaned.
“Hi, Donna!” she answered it enthusiastically, then paused as she listened to the person on the other end of the line.
“I’ve had a bit of car trouble,” she explained.
She frowned and then her expression turned from frantic to desperate.
“Wait, Donna! You can’t. I was on my way there when I got a flat tire. This was not my fault.”
She grew quiet again.
Her face morphed into shock, and there was a hint of defeat in her eyes.
“Ugh,” she growled and glared at the phone. The woman must have hung up on her.
She was having a bad day. That much was clear and, for some absurd reason, I empathized. I’d been there one too many times.
“Should I leave you to fume alone, or do you want my help?” I offered again. “I have places to be,” I said, softening my tone some, giving her some benefit of the doubt. Hoping—no wanting—to be wrong about her.
She flicked her gaze back to me. “Yes,” she mumbled under her breath.
I smirked. “What was that, princess?” I asked, unable to help myself from taunting her a little more. I much preferred seeing her fiery and confident than sad and defeated.
“Yes, will you please help me?” She forced through clenched teeth.
I smiled in satisfaction as I walked toward her car. “Pop your trunk. I assume you have a spare?”
“I’m not sure.”
Confused, I looked back over my shoulder at her.
“It’s not my car,” she said, moving to pop the trunk open.
I raised my brows, wondering who the car belonged to. She wasn’t engaged or married. I’d already peeked at her hand to confirm that much. Her boyfriend maybe. I wasn’t too fond of that thought, but it seemed the most likely answer.
She opened the trunk and leaned against the side of the car near the flattened tire and watched my every move. I did my best to remain focused on the task at hand and tried to avoid appreciating her long, tanned legs that were within reach. The smooth skin called for me to run my hands along them.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Liam,” I responded without looking at her. The quicker I got this over with, the better before I lost control and did something we’d both regret. Like kissing her until she forgot about her rich ass boyfriend.
She paused expectantly, waiting for me to ask for her name. I didn’t need to ask. I already knew from looking at her paperwork at the shop. Valerie Blackwood.
“Well, Liam…what do you do?”
I didn’t respond, just shook my head with a smirk as I tightened the last bolt on the spare tire. She really hadn’t seen me that day. But I would make sure she saw me when she came to pick up her car.
She huffed with frustration when I hadn’t responded.
I stood and gathered up the tools and the damaged tire, putting everything back in the vehicle. She followed closely behind. I closed the trunk and tugged the hem of my shirt upwards, using it to clean off the grime from my hands, and then to wipe the sweat from my face.
It seemed I wasn’t the only one that couldn’t keep my eyes to myself. Her gaze was glued to my abs. I may have intentionally flexed them and took my time, liking the way she stared at me. When she didn’t bother turning away, I chuckled.
Her gaze jumped to mine. She shrugged as if unimpressed, and it was no big deal that I’d caught her. I’m sure her boyfriend would feel differently. And we both knew she was more than impressed.
She leaned against the trunk next to me. Too fucking close if she expected for me to keep things PG.
I cleared the dirty thoughts trying to overpower my mind before speaking again. “You’ll need to get the spare replaced as soon as possible. Don’t drive on it for long. It’s a temporary fix,” I warned her.
She nodded, though I wasn’t sure my words even registered. She had a look in her eyes. One that told me she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Further confirmed by the way her gaze focused on my lips. I stared back, fighting against the urge that was screaming “fuck it” and telling me to man up and kiss her. It would be so easy. She was less than a foot away. My thoughts were pure insanity.
And the insanity was winning…pulling me closer to the edge. I leaned in, trapping her between my arms as I placed my hands on the trunk lid. Closer, but not yet touching. Breathing her in as if this would be my last breath. She smelled fucking amazing.
Her lips parted as she took a desperate breath. I leaned in even closer, my body pressing against hers as she melded naturally into me, my face an inch from hers. One more inch is all it would take to have those beautiful lips pressed against mine.
But I couldn’t. Not because of her boyfriend. Fuck him. He obviously wasn’t treating her like the princess she was or she wouldn’t be silently begging for me to kiss her like I wanted to.
I couldn’t because I was a greedy bastard. One kiss would not be enough with this woman. I’d want more, and I’d take more. And it would end in a fucking disaster. I would never be enough for a woman of her caliber. Plus, there was too much dark shit in my past, even if I wanted to fool myself and try.
It’s why instead of pressing my lips to hers, I moved them to her ear. “I’m not your knight in shining armor, princess, “I whispered. My words were as much for her as for me. A verbal reminder that I couldn’t be who she wanted.
“I’m not a princess,” she countered, her words breathy and needy.
She was wrong. I pulled back, dragging my gaze down her body. She had no fucking idea.
“Yes. You. Are,” I punctuated each word slowly and deliberately, before stepping away from her.
I took in the vision of her one more time, wondering if maybe I should listen to the devil on my shoulder. Then I shook my head and forced myself to walk away before I lost the battle and listened to the little shit.