Название: Bride Wanted
Автор: Renee Andrews
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired
isbn: 9781472013958
isbn:
He pulled back into the station and heard the horrid rattle that his grandmother described. He’d heard it a few times throughout the short drive, and it hadn’t taken him long to pinpoint the source of the hideous noise. But he couldn’t miss the fun of showing her, so he waited for her to come outside to identify the problem. Maura Taylor walked alongside her as she neared the car.
“Well, did you hear it?” Jolaine asked.
“I did. And you’re right, it’s a horrible racket. I don’t know how you’ve put up with it.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s been driving me crazy for the past week. How bad is it? Do I need a new car, or is it something you can fix? Tell me it’s something you can fix.”
“Definitely something I can fix.” He climbed out, then squatted down by the driver’s seat. “And I can take care of it right now without a single tool.” Sliding his hand under the seat, he withdrew an empty water bottle, then another and another. He pulled six bottles out from under the seat, while Maura muffled her laughter with her hand over her mouth.
“Is that what was making the racket? Those bottles rolling under the seat? James would get on me big-time. Don’t tell your grandfather, Troy. I’ve been meaning to clean out the car.”
“I won’t tell him, but I’m not sure you’ll get so lucky with Mr. Taylor knowing.”
Her cheeks reddened as Bo Taylor neared the group and didn’t attempt to stifle his laughter. She pointed a finger at the man. “You keep quiet, Bo.”
“I’ll make sure he does,” Maura promised.
“I think you’ll find your ride much more peaceful now.” Troy tossed the empty bottles in a nearby can.
“Thank you, Troy.” She kissed his cheek. “Anyway, I got to visit with you and let you know about what you need to do.”
“Yes, you did.” Troy knew she didn’t mean any harm, and he loved her dearly for her attempt to help his love life. Maybe she even steered him in the right direction. He had been a bit picky, and thanks to her visit, he’d made a conscious decision to rectify that soon, this Friday, in fact, with Haley Calhoun. One way or another, he’d make it to date number three.
* * *
Destiny Porter sat in her car and waited at the end of the line for gas, all the while watching the mechanic in the garage to the right of the filling station. He wore traditional blue coveralls, and she could tell he had thick, jet-black hair, broad shoulders and a lean waist, but that was it.
She’d left her apartment in Atlanta, packed her things for an indefinite stay and then driven 120 miles to Claremont, Alabama, to see the man and convince him to share his love letters with the world. And now he had his head tucked under the hood of a car.
“Come on, turn around.” Her plea was interrupted when an older version of Richard Gere tapped on her window. Destiny rolled it down. “Yes?”
“Ma’am, I can’t reach your tank unless you pull up to the pump.” He glanced over his shoulder to see what held her attention. The mechanic had finally come out from under the hood and had moved to a bevy of tools against the opposite side wall. “Aah, so you’re another of Troy’s admirers. I wonder if I shouldn’t start paying him some sort of commission for all of the extra customers I get.” The man chuckled then nodded toward the pump, still several feet away. “Why don’t you move forward a little so I can at least pump your gas while you’re doing a rather pitiful attempt at flirting long-distance?”
“Oh, I wasn’t, or, I didn’t mean to stare.”
He raised a dark gray brow.
Destiny felt her cheeks flame. “I’ve never even met the man.” And that was the truth. But she did know everything he wanted in a woman and how he’d treat the one who earned his love, which was why she’d made this trip. However, she wouldn’t share that with this man. She also wouldn’t share it with the mechanic, who apparently had lots of admirers around town.
He’d have plenty more if he let her publish those letters.
She decided she’d change the subject and attempt to save herself any further embarrassment while the man removed the nozzle and busied himself with his work. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a real full-service gas station.”
He nodded as he put gas in her red Beemer. “I suspected as much. You aren’t from around here.” He pointed a knowing finger toward Destiny’s face. “Claremont’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and I’m pretty sure if you were from around here, I’d have noticed.” He glanced toward the garage. “But it isn’t my attention you’re trying to get anyway, is it? Not that it’d matter. I’m happily taken.” He winked. “So, you just passing through or staying awhile?”
Destiny wished she could control her traitorous eyes, but the guy in the garage had finally faced her and she was, quite frankly, speechless.
The older man cleared his throat. “I’m Bo Taylor, by the way. The lady who just walked into the station is my wife, Maura. Assuming you’re listening to my rambling and all.”
Destiny blushed again. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so embarrassed. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t mean to...”
“Yeah, you do, but that’s okay. Every young lady from town comes here as often as possible.” Bo frowned as the nozzle clattered and the gas stopped pumping. “This isn’t full yet. Let me get her started back up.” He flipped the silver lever on the pump and the thing clicked to life again. “Tell you what, I’ll go get Troy and offer an introduction. The customer line is gone now anyway.”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to disturb him.”
The man nodded once as though the matter was decided, ignored Destiny’s protest and started toward the garage. And the gas, which was taking forever to pump, clicked to a near standstill when he walked away. Destiny didn’t even know the numbers could turn that slowly, but then again, all of the gas stations in Atlanta had digital displays. This one, like everything else she’d seen so far, seemed straight out of the 1950s. And since it continued turning slower than traffic on I-285 at rush hour, she barely had three gallons in the tank when Bo returned with tall, dark and mesmerizing Troy Lee by his side.
He was a good six-two, easy, the jet-black hair even darker shining in the sun. Destiny’s hands involuntarily tightened on the wheel, and she made her fingers relax so the blood could start flowing again. Did he really look this good, or was it the fact that she already knew so much about the man and the thoughts of his heart that made her feel as if she were going to pass out merely looking at him? The subscribers to her magazine would simply have to have a photo to accompany his love letters...once Destiny had the authority to put them in print. Which she’d have, one way or another, before next month’s issue. She had to; she’d already promised her advertisers.
“Troy, this is...” Bo Taylor waited for her to fill in the blank.
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