Jilted Groom(7)

By: Mia Carson



“Looks that way,” he said slowly, eyeing her up and down.

She was used to it and ignored his look, too fascinated by his car. “Well then, let’s take a look and see what you broke on the old girl.”





Chapter 3



Edmund hoped he’d relayed the message to the woman he spoke to on the phone before his signal cut out completely. The heat of the day settled on his shoulders as he rolled up his sleeves and frowned down at his tux pants. He’d planned on stopping at a town somewhere outside of Kentucky to get new clothes, but his car had other ideas. He managed to look up a shop close by the interstate, but as soon as he exited, he was turned around on back roads and his old baby gave out completely.

When the tow truck pulled up, he was ready to thank the guy for finding him, but the tall, curvy form of a woman in a black mechanic jumpsuit was not what he expected. Her brown hair, with hints of red picked up by the sunlight, was pulled back in a ponytail, and she yanked an oil-covered rag from her pocket as she walked past him to the front of the car.

“You did a number on her, didn’t you?” she mused, waving away the smoke with the rag.

Tongue-tied, he nodded as he watched her lithe body lean over the engine. Sweat glistened on her neck, and she cursed as she reached her hand in.

“Careful,” he said and reached out to pull her back, but she shot him a look.

“I think I know what I’m doing,” she said with a wink. “This is not my first car.”

“And how many have you worked on before?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

She straightened, matching his posture with a grin. “Pushing two hundred,” she said proudly. “I also own my own garage and my own tow truck. How many cars have you fixed up before?”

Edmund coughed to cover his surprise. “None, I’m afraid.”

“Exactly, so if you don’t mind, let me do my work?”

“You really are the mechanic?” he asked before he could stop himself.

She leaned back over the engine, and Edmund’s eyes drifted down to her ass staring him in the face. The jumpsuit she wore did nothing to hide every delicious curve of her body, and Edmund was reminded very quickly of the fact that he was a red-blooded male and currently single.

“What is it with men thinking a woman can’t work on cars?” she grumbled.

“I wasn’t implying that. You just don’t strike me as the mechanic type,” he covered quickly.

She sighed, puffing her cheeks out as she rested her forearms on the edge of the car. “You’re driving a 1966 convertible Mustang, Windsor V8, four-barrel engine with mostly original parts,” she listed with a twitch to her lips. “A car I’ve never seen in person but I can say I’m very happy you broke down close to my town.”

“Damn,” he laughed, holding up his hands in defeat. “Alright, you know cars.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, amused, and Edmund smiled with her. “You’re leaking oil, to begin with, and it looks like your battery’s fried. Let me test it real quick. If it’s the battery, I have a spare that should work on the truck.”

“And if it’s not the battery?” he asked.

She shoved the rag back in her pocket. “Then you get to enjoy my company a bit longer.”

Edmund almost said he would enjoy that but stopped the words at the last second. His plan was to keep driving south, not to stop in some tiny little town he didn’t even see on the map. Dust billowed around him from the gravel shoulder as a hot breeze blew across his face. He really needed a change of clothes and a shower after sweating in this heat. Kristen walked back from the tow truck, and he stepped aside to let her test the battery.

“Well, bad news, I’m afraid,” she said after a moment and slammed his hood shut. “I have to tow you into town.”

“Can you fix it?” he asked, following her to her truck.

“Yeah, but I won’t know the extent of the damage ‘til I get her in the shop,” she explained and reached into the passenger seat for a clipboard. “I might have to order parts, and for us, that means time.”

Edmund kicked at a rock on the shoulder. Just his luck. He was stood up at his own wedding, then his beautiful baby broke down on the road before he could even get out of Kentucky. “Great. Perfect,” he muttered.

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