Braving The Heat. Regan Black

      The curiosity and confusion came through loud and clear and Kenzie had to stifle a chuckle. Stephen must not keep a receptionist around. The place did have the feel of a one-man operation. Accustomed to working with a team and having people around constantly, she couldn’t imagine so much solitude. She didn’t want to risk making a mistake with the hold button and cutting off Megan’s call, so she placed the handset gently on the desk and hurried into the garage.

      She saw her little rust-bucket in pieces, but her gaze locked for a long, reverent moment on the classic Camaro SS. A 1967, she knew. Oh my. Her hands tingled to peek under the hood. It would benefit from fresh paint and oh, that pure American muscle cried out for a touch. This was as close as she’d come to a car like this since her dad died. She hoped Stephen would be willing to show it to her and fill her in on the details later.

      A classic Camaro was her dream car, if money weren’t an object. It was a pipe dream at the moment, and likely would remain so for the next decade. One day, she promised herself, exerting significant willpower to stay on track with the minivan, when she would’ve happily gone exploring the Camaro.

      From her vantage point only Stephen’s legs and lower torso were visible under a minivan on the last lift. She failed in her attempt to ignore the appeal of those long legs and the T-shirt lifting to reveal toned abs when he stretched for something. Whew. She tucked away that little buzz of attraction.

      Kenzie had no chance of getting his attention over the blaring music. It wasn’t hard to find the speakers, but she didn’t see the controls. She shouted. He didn’t flinch. There were too many things in a working garage that might catch a finger or hand wrong if he was startled. She came around the front corner of the car and shouted his name again.

      This time he froze. Slowly, he turned in her direction, and she could see the wire brush he was holding in hands darkened by brake dust.

      He stared at her as if he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t alone. “Kenzie.”

      She started to shout, pausing when he held up a finger and lowered the volume with a voice command. “Your sister Megan is on the phone,” she said. “She’s asking about her minivan.”

      He rolled his eyes and then glared down at his hands. “Give me a second.”

      “I can handle the call for you. You’re doing both front and rear brakes?” she asked, when he didn’t volunteer any information.

      “No. Just rear brakes, and new tires all around,” he replied.

      Kenzie glanced about, judging his progress. “Do you want her to come by this afternoon?”

      “Not really,” he muttered.

      Kenzie laughed, understanding the sibling dynamics. “When works for you?”

      “She’s such a nag,” he grumbled. “When she dropped it off, she made me agree to deliver it for her at Sunday dinner tomorrow.”

      “No problem. Leave it to me.” Kenzie returned to the office and picked up the phone. “Megan?”

      “Yes.”

      “Thanks for waiting.” Kenzie smiled as she explained Stephen’s progress and his confidence that the minivan would be delivered on time to Sunday dinner.

      “Great. Thanks, um, what was your name?”

      “Kenzie.”

      “I’m so glad you’re there. It’s about time he hired good help,” Megan said. “Have a good day,” she added brightly.

      “You, too.” Replacing the phone in the cradle, Kenzie sat back in the chair and swiveled side to side gently. Maybe she could give Stephen some time in the office or the garage while she waited to return to her normal schedule at the firehouse.

      “Was she rude?”

      Kenzie smothered the reaction as the deep burr of Stephen’s voice skimmed over the nape of her neck. He stood just outside the door frame, wiping dark streaks from his hands with a shop towel. Something about him sent her heartrate into overdrive. This was not the time for her hormones to take a detour.

      “Not at all,” she replied, she managed in a steady voice.

      His eyebrows arched in disbelief. “She didn’t do any wheedling to get her minivan back today?”

      Kenzie shook her head.

      “Huh. Thanks.”

      The man was pretty cute when he was baffled. “No problem.” She was about to ask about her own car when the phone rang again. Stephen’s face clouded over with a scowl. “Go on back. I’ll handle it,” she told him.

      “Really? Thanks. Just take messages,” he said, practically running back to the shop.

      She handled the various inquiries for the rest of the morning. When her stomach was rumbling around noon, she wandered back into the shop with the intent of picking up lunch for both of them. Stephen wasn’t in the garage. The bay where the minivan had been was empty and Kenzie followed the sounds of water running outside.

      She found him power washing the brake dust off his sister’s tire rims, and her first thought was that he should hire someone to handle that kind of thing. It would be a great job for some high school kid. Not her business how he wanted to run his garage.

      Her second thought, and those that followed right after it, were centered on the way his T-shirt, damp from the spray of water, molded to his chest. When he turned that serious, brooding gaze on her she nearly forgot she was here about lunch.

      “Keys are in the loaner,” he added, after requesting a meatball sub from the pizza place down the block.

      “They are?”

      “Well, sure. It’s yours to use whenever you need it. The key fob will handle the security gate for you.”

      She was still processing all the implications of his easy generosity when she returned with lunch. He’d finished the brakes and cleaned up the service bay during her brief absence, and she marveled at his efficiency.

      A man who obviously appreciated solitude, he didn’t want her hanging around while they ate, she assumed, but she didn’t want his well-earned break interrupted by the phone. He’d seemed almost afraid of the thing earlier.

      “So what’s with delivery over having Megan pick up her minivan?” Kenzie unwrapped her sandwich and took a big bite. “This is amazing.”

      He nodded, his mouth full, too. When he’d swallowed, he said, “Delivery tomorrow isn’t ideal, but I’m already doing the job for the cost of parts. If I do it in record time, they’ll never let me rest. Do you know how many Galways there are?”

      She did a quick head count. “You have four siblings, right?”

      “Yes,” he said between bites. “Add in parents and cousins and in-laws, and a man wouldn’t have time for anything else.”

      “I thought Mitch helped you out.”

      “He does. He prefers the custom work more than the maintenance stuff,” Stephen said.

      “Don’t we all?” There was an excitement in restoration, in breathing new life into quality machinery.

      Stephen raised an eyebrow. “To be fair, he would’ve handled Megan’s van if I’d been slammed.”

      “Based on the phone calls I managed this morning, I’d say you could be slammed at any given moment. If you can spare the bay, and time with the tools, I can fix my car on my own,” she said. “After hours, so I can stay out of your way.”

      “You know cars?” he asked.

      “My dad taught me more than enough to handle that particular car.”

      He lifted a bottle of water to his lips and Kenzie caught herself staring at his jaw