Tiger Lily Read online

  He looked handsome in profile, a toothpick bobbing in time with the music too, between his nicely-shaped pink lips.

  I didn’t know how to get this guy’s attention. I never had.

  “Hi,” I said for the fifth time, and when he still didn’t notice me, I reached out and snagged one of his earbuds.

  He suddenly realized there was someone beside him and he sat up in a hurry, slamming his forehead into the bottom of the minivan.

  “Ooh,” I winced sympathetically. “Sorry.”

  He fell back onto the board, clutching his face. The toothpick landed on his shirt. “Shit!”

  Then he looked at me, and the most gorgeous baby-blue eyes widened. “Oh, Lily! Sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry you swore around me,” I said. “I know I’m very scary.”

  “Where did you come from?” He rubbed his forehead, wincing as he does. “Godda—sorry.”

  “I curse too,” I told him.

  He shook his head. “You’re a lady.”

  I scoffed at that. “Have you met me?”

  His lips parted slightly. “I have.”

  I stared at him, not sure how to respond. Archer was really smart. He was the kind of smart that sometimes made it hard for someone to operate in the same plane of existence as the rest of us.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I work here now.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Blake and Dylan didn’t tell you,” I said, thinking about the gleam in Blake’s eyes when he told me to come say hi. “Your business partners are jerks, you know.”

  “Keenly aware,” he grumbled. He dug his heels into the cement, pulling himself on his cart out from under the car, and I followed him. He was a lot quicker than I was.

  I sat up on my board as the two of us emerged back into the sunlight. It made me feel a little claustrophobic being under the car, and I drew a relieved breath not to have car-junk in my face anymore.

  “You wouldn’t have wanted them to hire me,” I said, taking a shot in the dark.

  He frowned. “No.”

  “No you wouldn’t have wanted them to hire me,” I asked, “or no, you wouldn’t have not wanted them to hire me?”

  He laid back down on the board, pressing his hands to his forehead. “You’re still exhausting.”

  I lay back down on my board too, staring up at the ceiling. The two of us were so close we were almost, but not quite touching, and it felt intimate. Just like when we were kids and we’d lay in the grass at the park and read.

  “I know,” I confessed. “It’s pretty exhausting from the inside of my brain too, to be honest.”

  8

  I was manning the desk for the first time later that day when a man walked in, his posture stiff with anger.

  My stomach flip-flopped. First customer, and from the way his beetle-eyebrows were drawn together as if they were locked up in a fight, he wasn’t a friendly one.

  “Can I help you, sir?” I chirped.

  He looked me over. “I don’t know, can you?”

  Yep, definitely a friendly one. I could already tell he probably wouldn’t make his mama proud in this conversation. “That’s what I’m here for. What seems to be the problem?”

  He rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh.

  Oh, lord help me.

  Customer service was exhausting for me. I did a good job, but it left me slump-on-the-couch-and-eat-cereal-for-dinner tired.

  Silver Springs was full of paranormal beings as well as people, but in my experience, anything that comes in a vaguely human form tends to be quite annoying.

  He threw his keys onto the desk. “I had my car serviced here two weeks ago. Now my engine just died.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.” I glanced through the window in the door that led to the bay. Archer had walked me through what to do with customers who came in with and without an appointment; we hadn’t discussed what to do with customers whose thick, animated eyebrows appeared willing to wage war.

  “Please hang on here one second while I see if we can take a look at your car now,” I said, hoping that one of the guys could look at it and figure out what was wrong.

  “If you can take a look now?” His eyes almost popped out of his head, his voice rising on each word. “I was on my way to an important meeting, now I’m stuck here in your shitty little town and—”

  Anger rose in my chest, but I ignored him, pushing the door open and heading into the brightly lit bay.

  “Sure, run away,” he added caustically. “Fetch someone who can actually help me.”

  Music played from the local radio station and Archer, Dylan and Blake were all working on three different cars, one in each of the bays. As soon as I stepped in here, a sense of peace washed over me. The smells and the fresh air coming through the open bay doors grounded me, and the music instantly lifted my mood.

  “Hey, we’ve got an unhappy customer,” I said. “Can someone come give me a hand? There’s no open space on the schedule—what do you want me to do?”

  Blake rolled out from underneath one of the cars and shot to his feet. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his coveralls clinging to his body in a way that was mouthwatering, and I glanced away from his concerned gaze. I didn’t want him to catch me staring.

  But I was keenly aware of him approaching me, wiping his greasy hands off on a shop towel.

  He gave me a look I couldn’t read. “Sure, let’s see what’s going on.”

  I pulled the door to the lobby open for him, and he walked through it ahead of me.

  The coveralls did amazing things for his ass, too.

  I jerked my gaze up to his spreading shoulders. Lord help me. There was nowhere safe to look. Blake always commanded my attention—and he was ridiculously sexy.

  The guy still stood at the counter, drumming his fingers impatiently. When he saw Blake, he said, “Oh good. I hope you’re actually useful.”

  “Occasionally.” Blake flashed him a smile the man did not return. “What’s the problem?”

  “My car isn’t starting,” he said impatiently. “I’m parked just down the street. I stopped to get a coffee, on my way to a very important meeting…”

  “He said that already,” I murmured. I couldn’t help myself. Who mentions a very important meeting twice in one conversation? I bet he called jerking off in his bathroom a very important meeting with Mr. Righty.

  His gaze narrowed on me. “And she was completely useless. You need to get my car fixed, ASAP. You were the last guys to touch it.”

  Blake spread his hands. “Yeah, I remember being the last one to touch it. I told you that you needed a new alternator, and you didn’t want to spend the money.”

  The man huffed. “I think you broke my car.”

  Blake crossed his arms, studying him.

  “And I think you’re an asshole,” Blake said finally. He sounded completely matter-of-fact, but I almost laughed out loud in surprise. “You know, normally I would look at it for you, confirm it was the alternator, help you out. But I don’t like the way you talked to her.”

  The man scoffs. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “Nope.” Blake told him. “There’s a great auto shop in Scarborough. They’ve got a towing service, too, so you’re in luck. Because Hot Wheels ain’t for you, friend.”

  Blake flashed him a smile that didn’t match his words. For the first time, I really noticed just how big he was in comparison to someone else. Blake stood well over six feet tall, with powerful shoulders and wide biceps filling out his coveralls.

  “This is bullshit!” the guy exploded.

  But when Blake took a step forward, the rude guy took a step back. It looked as if they were doing a foxtrot across the floor as Blake advanced on him and he backed toward the door.

  Blake reached out and pushed the door open for him. “Tell it to the tow truck driver when he finally gets here from Scarborough.”

  When the guy left, Blake let the
door slam. Or tried to. But the door had a soft close, so it was disappointingly soundless.

  “The door needs bells,” I said.

  “Get whatever you think the place needs,” Blake said. “I’ll give you the company credit card. I trust you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling flustered as he came toward me. It was a nice thing for him to say, but he was standing so close to me that I could feel the heat of his body, and there was a sudden aching throb between my thighs.

  I sure as hell never felt that wild ache with Brad in my bed, and he’d been my college sweetheart.

  But I didn’t even like Blake…at least, I didn’t like him in the sense of “Oh, it turns out I do have loins, and they are burning.”

  It took me a second to realize I was standing in front of the door, and that’s why he had stopped to stand right in front of me.

  “I didn’t know you let anyone talk to you like that, Tiger,” he said, tilting his head to one side. “When did you become such a pussy cat?”

  He did not just say that to me. Forget it; I might have loins, but Blake was never getting anywhere near them.

  “Watch your mouth,” I told him.

  “Oh, there are the claws,” he said, then smiled faintly.

  I popped my hands on my hips. “Why are you always trying to rile me up, Blake?”

  He slid past me to the door, and the spicy scent of his cologne or maybe his own scent teased my nose. He smelled delicious.

  He looked down at me, and I raised my gaze from the Blake embroidered on his coveralls to those golden-amber eyes. “Well, it’s the only way you notice me, pussy cat.”

  “Don’t—” I began.

  He gave me a wide grin, but he was already leaning against the door into the bay. It opened behind him and he stepped out of sight.

  Was Blake really annoyed that I…didn’t notice him?

  Because I felt like I noticed him far more than I should.

  And I couldn’t make sense of the protective, bossy way he treated me, either.

  I didn’t like it. Or at least… I definitely should not like it.

  9

  Dylan

  Blake was in a bad mood.

  It might have been hard to tell for anyone else. Blake had a tough, stoic sensibility that fooled most people.

  But then, most people had never come downstairs for a midnight bowl of cereal to find Blake wiping tears away as the credits of a Nicholas Spark movie rolled. He’d been gruff because he was embarrassed, of course, but deep down, the man was…well, he was a big soft puppy.

  He just had bite when he cared about someone.

  When I finished up the minivan, I leaned over the engine he was working on. “What’s up?”

  He grunted.

  Then, grudgingly, he added, “The guy that stopped by was a prick to Lily.”

  “She can take care of herself,” I pointed out.

  “Can she?” he asked, although he was stretched across the engine, so the question appeared to be addressed to the carburetor.

  Engines never have much to offer in terms of observations on the human psyche, though. When the carburetor didn’t say anything wise, I guessed it was up to me.

  “Yeah, of course.” I frowned at his implication.

  “Because she reminds me of a dog who’s been kicked,” Blake said, the crinkle between his brows deepening, “and I really hate when someone kicks a dog.”

  “She did just lose her job,” I reminded him. When Blake heard that Lily was home because she’d lost her job, he’d gone into full big-brother mode. “She can just come work at Hot Wheels!” He’d been so excited.

  Apparently, he’d been excited enough for both of them, because Lily didn’t seem familiar with the emotion.

  “There’s more than that.” He swiped his hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. “I suck at talking to her. I always make her mad.”

  I clapped his shoulder. “For almost twenty years now. It’s sweet when you think about it.”

  He pulled a face. “Can you talk to her?”

  “Yeah.” I was surprised he wanted me to; I knew how big a crush he had on her.

  He genuinely wanted the best for Lily. That was so sweet.

  Not that he’d ever admit to being sweet.

  He’s got that German Shepherd try-hard.

  “I’ll see if I can take her for lunch,” I said. “I’m done with the mini-van, do you guys mind getting it down for me?”

  “Sure,” Archer said, glancing at us from beneath the car he was working on, “So happy to do your work for you while you romance our childhood crush.”

  I shrugged.

  “Go ahead,” Blake said. “Ignore him. He’s just…Archer-ing.”

  “Can you get her grandpa’s convertible up and you look at it with her when we get back?” I asked.

  Archer sighed and went back to work on the truck.

  I walked backward against the shop floor, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Well, Archie, you could take your turn. I’m asking her to lunch. Blake is teaching her auto 101 this afternoon. You could ask her on a date.”

  He didn’t answer until I reached the door, and I was about to open it when his voice floated over.

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Maybe you should,” I agreed.

  “Maybe that would be fantastic,” Blake added.

  Oh, brothers.

  I rolled my eyes as I turned to the lobby.

  Lily was swiveling absently back and forth on the high stool behind the reception desk, sorting through a stack of papers in front of her, and humming a Disney song.

  She looked beautiful with her cloud of reddish-gold curls wild around her face, her eyes intent on the computer as she twisted back and forth between the files and the screen. I smiled just seeing her and hearing her beautiful voice, no matter how soft it was now. This is where she belongs. With us.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  She jerked to face me and almost fell off the stool, but she saved herself by grabbing the edge of the desk. I rushed to help her, but she waved me off. “I’m fine. You guys are so surprising…”

  “You were focused,” I said. “What were you focused on?”

  “Entering everything into Quickbooks that you guys thought you could shove into a folder.” She had a look of distaste as she turned over the top of a folder that hugged a messy sheath of papers.

  I raised my hands in surrender. “That is definitely Blake’s handwriting.”

  “You didn’t stop him.” Her voice had a teasing note.

  “Blake’s usually pretty unstoppable,” I said, and then realized I didn’t want to be talking about my brother right now, much as I loved him. I cleared my throat. “Want to take a break? Grab some lunch?”

  “Oh, sure,” she said. “I packed a tuna sandwich.”

  “Well, I didn’t pack my lunch,” I lied. “Save me from the vending machine. Walk into town with me.”

  “And just leave the reception desk unmanned?” She raised her eyebrows.

  I glanced around the empty lobby. No one had stayed to wait for their cars today.

  She followed my gaze, then huffed. “Well, if you don’t really need a receptionist, what am I even doing here? You’re just being nice to me?”

  She sounded furious about the possibility we were being nice.

  “No,” I raised my hands in a placating gesture. “Nothing so evil as that. Look at what you’re doing now—obviously we need you.”

  She gave me a skeptical look, but she gathered up the papers and set them on the shelf beneath the desk, and my heart rose.

  The two of us wandered down the street through Silver Springs. I kept glancing at her, as she looked around her with wide, curious hazel eyes. I felt strangely nervous.

  I wanted Lily to like me, and I wanted her to like Silver Springs. I wanted her to stay.

  “This place is so adorable,” she mused, stopping abruptly, her gaze sweeping across the street, bouncing
between Buttercup’s Bake Shop on one side and Jewels café on the other. She sighed, as if adorable were a problem right now. “Sometimes I think my grandfather might be right. But don’t tell him that.”

  “Right about what?”

  Her lips tugged to one side. “Never mind. He can’t be right—he’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

  “What an interesting coincidence. He’s the second most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

  A man rushing down the street on his cell phone didn’t even seem to see Lily, so I caught her around the waist and reeled her toward me.

  She glanced up at me in surprise as he barreled through the air where she’d just been.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’ve got some herding tendencies.”

  She raised an eyebrow. It took me a second to remember I should let my hand drop from her waist, even though my hand felt right there, as if her body and mine had been made to fit together.

  But I let go and took a step back.

  “What are you in the mood for?” I asked. “Fish and chips? Almost as good as tuna?”

  Lily’s favorite meal growing up was a tuna sub with French fries.

  She smiled slowly, as if she were pleased I remembered. “Maybe my tastes have matured since I was a kid.”

  I shrugged, gazing down at her bright eyes, those mischievous lips above a stubborn chin.

  “There’s nothing wrong with still liking what you always have,” I said, tilting my head to one side.

  She bit her lower lip as she looked up at me. Tension—and desire—seemed to shimmer between us, and the people and cars passing by us faded into the background.

  Then she said, “Sure, that sounds good,” and the spell was broken.

  I led her to Charlie’s Irish Pub, and Charlie led us to a booth in the dining room.

  The waitress came over and asked if she could get me anything. I glanced pointedly at Lily, but the waitress never really looked at her.

  We made small talk during lunch. Toward the end, I leaned back in my seat, watching Lily mash her straw around in her iced tea.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about how she had bristled when I invited her to lunch.

  She glanced at me, her eyes sharp as if she could feel my thinking.