Leo Page 10

  I drop my head back and groan. Jackson chuckles and I ignore him. The phone starts to ring and I ignore that too.

  Oh man, I’ve screwed up. I’ve screwed up bad.

  I raise my head and glare at him as he just continues to laugh. After a few minutes he pulls himself together and nods at the phone. “Shouldn't you get that?”

  ***

  Charlie

  The sun is just coming up when I open my eyes. I’ve never been so torn on waking up from a glorious dream. My brain spent the night replaying the greatest hits from Charlie And Leo In The Bedroom. Usually I’d want to dive right back in to something that awesome, but I know I’d just be torturing myself further. It hurts bad enough as it is, waking up to find it was just a dream.

  Maybe if I pretend I invented the whole thing, it’ll hurt less?

  Yeah, right, mocks the little voice inside me, but I ignore it. There’s a deep ache in my chest and I’ve got hundreds of miles of road ahead of me. I’ll take any opportunity to lessen the pain.

  I sit up and gasp, then get out of the car to sit on the hood.

  I recognized this turn when I pulled over, from the night I arrived in town. My brain launching into a live action replay of Leo’s Magic Mouth is probably what spawned my panty-soaking dream of last night. Of course, when I arrived, it was the middle of the night, both times. The darkness increased that feeling of privacy, but it also hid the most stunning view I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing in my life.

  I knew the road dropped off quite steeply, but from here the mountains open out to provide the most spectacular vista over the sleepy valley below. Pastures, roads, houses - the whole town of Caulville is laid out beneath me, like a sparkling rug in the dawn.

  I smile, for what feels like the first time in a while. This is an incredible parting gift. Maybe I don’t need to forget all the good stuff.

  Although maybe it’s best to forget Leo. God knows, I doubt there’s another man out there who can make me come so damn hard, so many times in a row.

  I know I should be getting on the road, but I let myself take another minute to just sit and soak up the sun, letting it warm my face before I have to get behind the wheel for the next however many hours. I’ll never see this again. Might as well enjoy it.

  A throaty roar echoes up the side of the mountain and I frown. It sounds familiar, but I can’t imagine Leo’s GTO finding its way up here a second time. The sound fades and swells as the car winds its way around the curves of the mountain, until finally, it appears.

  I sigh, swallowing back the tears. I was hoping to not see him again. It’s not like there’s anything nice he could possibly have to say.

  A door opens and closes, then that deep voice I know so well curls around me. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  I make myself look at him. I don’t want to, don’t want to feel the full force of his beauty hitting me all over again, but I haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m damned if I’ll hide now.

  “You don’t have to worry. I have a job waiting for me. A long way from here.” Kind of. If they hire me.

  Whatever. I’m not going to sweat the details. I look away and move to slide off the hood, but suddenly he’s there, right in front of me, stepping between my legs with a look so full of intent I know there’ll be no moving him until he’s done.

  “You already have a job,” he says.

  “Well, not exactly,” I tell him, then want to bite my tongue. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut around this guy? “But it’s an all-female auto shop, specializes in classic cars, and they’re hiring. I figure if I can talk my way into a probationary period, the job’s mine.”

  He’s quiet for a moment, then asks what town it’s in and I tell him.

  “Ah. Classic Ladies.”

  “You know it?” Part of me’s pleased, and part of me’s horrified. Why am I telling him where I’m going? I need to escape him, never see him again! Except sitting here, with him standing between my legs, blocking out the rising sun, heat pumping off his huge, hard body, I can’t quite remember why never seeing him again was such a good idea.

  “Of course I know it,” he says, looking vaguely insulted. “It’s part of my job to know all the competition. They’re good. They’d be fools not to hire you. But that’s not what I meant. You already have a job. Here. With Brent Classics.”

  I frown at him. “Er, no. You fired me. Remember?”

  He shakes his head, then slides his hands around my neck, cupping my jaw, and I can’t tear my eyes away from his, nor convince myself to move. “That termination notice was for Frank. I’m guessing he took the sticky note with his name off the top of it before giving it to you.”

  The world stops, even my heartbeat freezes, and then everything starts again, but very slowly, like an old record winding up to full playing speed.

  “You mean…?”

  “I was going to fire him anyway. He’s been defrauding the company for years and I’ve been so busy overseeing the expansion that I didn’t notice. Nobody noticed. But I didn’t come here to talk about Frank.”

  “You didn’t?” I murmur, feeling safe and warm, the heat of his hands leeching into my skin and my bones, making me feel like I’m wrapped in a blanket. Maybe I’m still asleep. I don’t care. I like this dream.

  “No. I came to talk to you. About how amazing you are. And how much I respect you, and admire you. And how much, how very much I want you to stay.”

  I stare up at him. There’s a faint breeze, chilly with the altitude, and somehow I know this isn’t a dream. “You do?”

  He shakes his head. “I spent half of yesterday driving around the country trying to find you. Went to every gas station for forty miles. In the end, I got a phone call from a cashier who saw Frank being a disrespectful asshole. She told me which way you’d gone and I hoped you’d be here. There was an accident on the turnpike. Took a while to clear, otherwise I’d have been here hours ago.”

  The ache in my chest is gone. In its place is something warm, blooming like a flower, opening up to shower every part of me with heat and light and something...something I haven’t felt in a while.

  “I’m glad you caught up to me,” I tell him.

  He smiles down at me, then leans forwards to brush his lips over mine. “I would have eventually, no matter where you went. And I realize that sounds creepy as hell, so here’s something I hope will persuade you that I’m not planning on locking you in a basement or anything.”

  He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small box. It’s very prettily wrapped and for a moment my breath locks in my throat, but then I breathe again. It’s too big, not to mention the wrong shape, to be a ring. I mean, Leo’s great and all, but that really would be too much, too soon.

  “Please stay,” he says, sinking to one knee and making me choke on air all over again. “I want to promote you. I want you training everyone, across the whole company. You’re perfect for it. And...it would mean some travel. And some time in the head office. But I’m also hoping to travel more from now on. These last few weeks with you reminded me what I love about this company, why my dad built it in the first place. The thrill of caring for an old car, restoring it to its former glory. That’s what I want to be doing. With you. Please stay. With me.”

  I don’t know what to say. His face is wide open, sincerity pouring off him. He’s offering so much and I don’t know how to accept. What would that make me? His travelling bit on the side? His girlfriend?

  “Open the box,” he says, pushing it gently into my hands.

  I don’t know what else to do, so I tug at the ribbon, and then lift the lid. A shocked laugh bursts out of me. A familiar-looking bolt rests on a padded cushion. The one that likes to cross-thread. The one I’ve wanted to replace for years and always knew it wouldn’t be possible.

  “You’re right,” he says, smiling. “It’s really not an easy thing to find.”

  I reach up and cup his jaw. “But you kept looking. You didn’t give up.�
�

  “Always. I’d never give up on you,” he says, before taking my mouth in a perfect kiss.

  ***

  Epilogue

  A month later...

  Charlie

  We delivered the Impala to Nash at a convention and now we’re on our way home. On the way there, I drove the Impala, and Leo drove the Superbird. Now he’s lounging in the passenger seat and I’m driving the Superbird, one of the rarest cars on the planet. A car which drinks gas like a redneck drinks ‘shine, hence why we’re pulling over yet again to fill up.

  I park up next to the pumps and slide out of the car, Leo looping his arm over my shoulder as we head inside to pre-pay and grab snacks. I lean into him, enjoying the heat and solidity of his body. After spending five days at the biggest classic car convention on the East Coast, along with fifty thousand other people, I’m glad to finally have him to myself again.

  “I can’t wait to lift you up on the kitchen counter and eat you until you scream,” murmurs Leo in my ear, making me stumble over the doorstep.

  I send him a mock glare over my shoulder as my face flames. He’s been saying stuff like this to me all week, usually in public where I can’t do a damn thing about it. Unfortunately, between his meetings, my meetings, and the constant stream of employees and sightseers coming past the Brent booth at the convention, we haven’t had five minutes alone together all week. At least, not where we were both conscious.

  The result is that I’ve been in a near-constant state of arousal for days and tonight I am damn well getting laid.

  The cashier is staring out the window as we go up to pay. “That’s a cool car,” she says.

  “It is,” I agree.

  “Yours?”

  I shake my head. “His,” I say, gesturing towards Leo who’s looking at a candy display. “But he lets me drive.”

  I don’t add that it’s because he likes seeing me handle the gear stick.

  “We’ll take these too,” he says, dumping a pile of empty calories in front of her and handing over his card. We already had the argument about who pays for what. Even though he pays me an insane salary, I still lost the fight. Not that that was so bad. He made up for it in other ways. My toes curl at the memory.

  The cashier’s pupils dilate as she looks him up and down, then she looks back at me. “You go, girl.”

  She holds out a fist and I bump it, unable to stop grinning, then collect up the candy, hand Leo’s card to him, and head back outside.

  A small crowd has gathered around the car, a dozen or so men leaning over it to get as good a look as possible without actually touching it. I disengage the alarm and the beep makes everyone jump back, looking like guilty children.

  “We were just— Charlie?”

  I stare at the skinny, floppy-haired guy in front of me. It’s David, from Craig’s auto shop. This dick’s the one who took my job. As soon as I think it, I have to admit to myself that’s not entirely true. Craig’s the one who gave it to him, that dickless—

  “Charlie? That you?”

  And there he is. Craig Hackett. The misogynistic asshole who gave my job to a guy with less than a quarter of my knowledge, and about a twentieth of my experience.

  “Hi, Craig. David.” I nod to both of them, then lean over to drop the candy into the glove compartment before turning to Leo. “Leo, honey, this is Craig Hackett and David Jones. From Wilson’s Auto. I used to work with them.”

  Leo’s poker face is excellent. I’m probably the only one to see how his jaw tightens just a fraction before he holds out a hand to shake. “I have to thank you. If you hadn’t passed Charlie over for that job, I’d never have snagged her for Brent. She’s done an amazing job, training up our teams across the country.”

  Craig turns red, and David’s eyes are bugging out. David recovers first.

  “Brent Classic Repairs?” he asks.

  Leo grins, a shit-eating smile if ever I saw one. Man, he’s enjoying this. I have to admit, I am too.

  “Yup. Leo Brent. Pleased to meet you.”

  Craig makes a strangled sound and David looks like he’s about to pass out. In our industry, Leo’s basically royalty. I never thought much about what revenge for having my talents ignored in my previous job would look like, but this is pretty much perfect.

  An engine purrs nearby and I look round to see Jackson getting out of his Audi S8. What’s he doing here? I realise David’s talking and turn back to the conversation.

  “Y-you know, Mr. Brent,” David stammers. “If you got any jobs going…”

  I can’t help raising an eyebrow. “I thought you worked at Wilson’s?”

  His eyes dart away from mine. “He let me go.”

  Now my other eyebrow is climbing. “Why?”

  It’s a stupid thing to say. I know why. Because David doesn’t know jack shit about cars. But I’m surprised when Craig cuts across David’s mumbling.

  “Wilson is a good guy, but there’s not much variety there. We’re both looking for a bigger challenge.” He looks hopefully at Leo, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

  Either Wilson’s gone under, or they’ve both been fired. Wow. Revenge is certainly sweet, and I didn’t even have to do anything. Except leave, which was probably how Wilson found out I was doing most of the work.

  Leo sends them both an apologetic smile, which is clearly not even slightly apologetic. “Well, you’d have to ask Charlie here. She’s in charge of hiring and firing across the entire company now. Best mechanic I’ve ever met.”

  Craig’s throat works, then he grabs David’s arm and drags him away, while I struggle not to burst out laughing. I look up at Leo, whose lips are twitching. “Please don’t tell me you promoted me again. I’ve barely seen the inside of an engine in a month as it is.”

  He grins. “Didn’t I tell you? Your current position as training manager gives you full hiring and termination rights.”

  My jaw drops. I knew I was in charge of training. I didn’t realize I could hire and fire anyone I wanted, although I suppose it makes sense, considering you don’t get a proper idea of how capable someone is until you see them in action. I have no time to digest this news, however, before Jackson appears at my side and leans down to kiss me on my cheek, making Leo growl. Jackson just smirks.

  I decide that makes up for dropping bombs on me in public. Almost.

  “Hey, beautiful,” says Jackson. “Let me know if you ever decide to leave this worthless piece of shit, won’t you? I’ll treat you right.”

  Leo’s growl intensifies, so I smile sweetly at his friend. “Thanks, Jackson. I’ll bear that in mind.”

  “I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” snarls Leo. “He won’t be fit for much after I rip his balls off and feed them to him. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  Jackson’s grin widens. “Aw, I love you too, man. I was just heading back home. Been checking out a new potential location.”

  “Don’t you have enough sin clubs?”

  Jackson’s eyes darken briefly. It takes him just a moment too long to respond, and in that moment, I don’t know how, but I sense that something’s off. Then his eyes clear.

  “You can never have enough sin, my man,” he drawls. He’s about to add something when his jacket rings. He pulls out his phone and checks the display, then looks up at us. “I have to take this. Come around on Friday. I’ll show Charlie a good time. And by good, I mean real bad.”

  He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, but Leo doesn’t even bother with a retort. Clearly he saw the crack in that shell of wicked teasing too.

  We all head back to our respective cars, and I pop the hood for the guys still hanging around, fielding questions about the hemi’s performance for half an hour before Leo puts his foot down and insists we leave.

  “Sorry, guys, but I need to get her home and put her to bed,” he says, leaving it unclear whether he’s referring to me or the car. My getting behind the wheel probably clears that up, though, and the men st
ill watching blush and turn away as I pull back onto the freeway.

  “What did Jackson mean about showing me a real good, real bad time? What does he do, exactly?”

  “He owns a chain of nightclubs. Of an...erotic entertainment nature.”

  “Strip clubs?” I stare at him, then hurriedly turn my attention back to the road. The last thing I want to do is wreck his impossibly rare car just a few hours from home.

  “They’re not strip clubs,” he hastens to assure me. “He owns and operates Carnal Sin. They’re high end clubs which cater to a...very specific clientele. There’s a main floor, DJ, bar, all of that, but there are also private rooms, for...private things.”