Doll Face (Baby Doll #3) Page 6

  “I’m not taking it to a shop so you can poke at it with a hammer or whatever tools you want to bang around with like some sort of deranged monkey,” she says behind me. I spin on her, and I’m glad I did because we are so close I can smell that sweet floral perfume she wears and feel the heat that’s coming off of her in waves. Her hair is pulled back in a perfect ponytail that I want to pull out and watch fall around her shoulders. “Look, Doll Face, the way I see it is you don’t have much choice here. You don’t have insurance to cover the bill, and you don’t have any money. Either you let me fix this car, or you are stuck walking.”

  “Do it, Katie! You might get to live out every gay man’s fantasy, a hot mechanic fixing more than just your car,” her friend from last night says, hanging out of the back window.

  I wave to him, and his boyfriend. “Hey Paul, Kiki,” I call.

  She narrows her eyes at me again when I turn back to her. “Fine, but just so we are clear this is not a fantasy of mine, more like a nightmare,”

  I smirk at her. “Wouldn’t have thought any different, Doll Face.” I lift the hood to see if there is any other damage, there is not. The truth is the Neon had been leaking radiator fluid long before she got it. It’s just the excuse to get her back to my place.

  “Ugh, will you stop calling me that? My name is Katie, not Doll, not Doll Face, simply Katie. Got that?” She leans over the car with me trying to control the situation.

  “Whatever you say, Red. There is more damage than I thought; you see that?” I point to the spark plugs. “If you don’t fix that the engine can seize at any moment.” I make something up and shut the hood. “I better drive you over, your friends can ride in the truck.”

  “Oh no, I don’t think so. Nice try, slick, but we will take my car, and I will be the one driving.”

  I shrug watching her friends bail out of the backseat of her car.

  “Oh thank the sexy mechanic gods, you have saved me,” her friend Kiki announces as he struts past us.

  Katie's mouth drops open slightly. “Trader.” She narrows her eyes at her friends as they climb into the truck.

  “Fine, I will drive myself.” She storms back to the car, and I watch her go. She has no idea how attractive she looks when she is angry like this. I bet I could help her work out some of the hostility.

  I almost slam into the back of his truck again. His eyes watch me from the review mirror; they are the only thing I can see. I remind myself that guys like him are all the same, I can see right through his act. He is trying to play the hero thinking that I will crawl into bed with him like probably hundreds of girls before I have. Well, I have news for you, mister, it will be a cold day in hell before you find me in your bed.

  Having no other choice, I follow him back into the tow yard that I left. Great, I’m back in hell. We drive past the parked cars to a barn in the back of the yard. Everything back here is the same dull gray as the office in the front; it blends into the graying evening sky. A knock on my window makes me jump. Oh God. I hand roll down my window at Adam’s grinning smile. He is so smug; I want to scream.

  “Get out.”

  “Excuse me?” I say, automatically becoming defensive, which has to do more with his sparkling eyes than his words.

  “I need to drive her into the barn to get it up on the lift.” I grip the steering wheel tight. This has been my first redemption at getting my life back on track since things so quickly fell apart, and I’m not ready to give that up.

  “I will do it,” I say defiantly.

  “Whatever you want, Doll Face.” After jogging around the car, he climbs into the passenger seat. He seems too big for the small car. I try not to take in the deep colors of his tattoos, or the lean ridge of his arms, or how delicious he smells.

  “What are you doing?” I snap.

  “Guiding you in.” He smiles at me like I’m not being a complete bitch to him. God his smile both agitates me and warms my insides until I feel like my very core is melting.

  “Oh.” I grip the wheel tighter.

  Adam guides me into the barn and up onto a yellow, rusty car lift where I put the car in park and turn off the engine.

  The barn is a weird collective mess—bikes and parts and half stripped cars are scattered around the space. On the gray walls hang a dozen or so paintings that look as if they should be hung in a gallery and not in a greasy old barn.

  “Wow,” I breathe out and look over at Adam as he takes off the baseball cap he had on and runs his hand over the short hair before putting it back on backwards.

  “Yeah, they were my mom’s.”

  Were? I swallow against my dry throat and decide not to ask.

  “Well, they are amazing! This whole place is …”

  “A shit hole?”

  “Interesting.”

  “Relax, I’m just messing with you, Katie,” Adam says before climbing out of the car. The way he says my name makes my heart flutter. I don’t think he has ever called me by my first name before. Commanding my legs to work, I climb out of the car after him. Adam has the hood up and is under it already. I lean against my car, trying to think of the right words to say to him. Sure he towed my car, but he was only doing his job. I can’t be mad at him—it was my father’s fault, not his.

  “Adam …” Even though I hardly know him, I suddenly want to admit everything to him.

  “Yeah?” He braces his arms on the car, causing the muscles to flex. I look away towards the door. Just then Kiki and an entourage of guys burst through the doors. “Thanks,” I mumble and make my way over to Kiki.

  “Oh-mah-Gawd. You’re kidding me, right? Look at this place! The chains, the lube, it’s like a dirty movie just waiting to happen.”

  “You really like to talk,” Adam’s friend James says making his way past Kiki.

  “And you, my friend, are the strong and silent type. I got your number, daddy. Ring, ring, baby, that’s right it’s me.”

  I roll my eyes at my over the top friend.

  “He hasn’t stopped since we got in the truck,” Paul whispers to me.

  “Okay, well thanks, Adam. We are going to just go and catch a cab.” I try to back out of the barn.

  “Oh no, honey, I’m not about to go walking the streets in these parts of town. Do you know what could happen to a boy like me out here?”

  “No, wait.” Adam hops down and rushes over to us. “Kiki, is that right?” I cock my brows at him. “Look, just hang out here for a bit. Tonight is family dinner, and Dad is making his famous chili. I will take you guys home right after.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Oh come on, Katie, I have never had Papa Nash’s famous chili, and I have always wanted to try it.” Kiki bats his fake eyelashes at me. Oh, brother. I turn back to Adam to tell him, no, but he is making the same sad, pleading face, filling my stomach with a million butterflies.

  “Fine,” I snap. “But as soon as you’re done we are leaving.”

  “Oh, you are a saint, Katie Bloom, making little gay boys’ dreams all over the world come true.”

  It’s going to take a few days for my car to be fixed according to Adam. My butterflies have turned into a million knots by the time we sit down at the chipped dining room table to eat. Adam’s family is just as eccentric as the place. His dad is still wearing the same blue jumpsuit, but over it, he has on an apron that has a picture of a bodybuilder on it. I didn’t think that anyone actually wore those; I thought they were only meant as a gag gift. Boys swarm the small kitchen that serves as a dining room as well, taking seats and glancing at me with a momentarily shocked looks. A young boy who can’t be older than fifteen reaches across the table for a piece of bread.

  “I hope you washed your nasty ass hands before you stick them in our food, Dirt,” Adam says, sitting down across from me and taking his own piece of bread.

  “Who is this?” another young boy asks.

  “Playboy, Katie, Katie, Playboy.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” I force a smile. Wha
t the hell is up with their names?

  “Why don’t we go somewhere quiet and you can show me how pleased you are?” There is an audible smack on his shoulder with a plastic spoon as Victor joins the table with a pot of chili in his hands.

  “You’re going to have to excuse these animals; they aren’t used to having such refined company.” Victor smiles at me.

  “Oh, it’s okay. Thank you for inviting us.” I exchange properly trained pleasantries instead of saying what I really feel—that his son the animal conned me into staying.

  “Of course, anytime. And I promise that they will be better behaved when you start work on Tuesday.” He glares at each of the boys.

  “Wait, what? Red, you’re working here?” Dropping his bread onto his plate, Adam turns on his dad. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You’ve never concerned yourself with who I hired before; I can’t see why now would be any different.” Victor Nash winks at me.

  “This is going to be fun,” Adam quips, turning back to me giving me that perfect smile, the one that turns my stomach to a bowl of Jell-O.

  “This is better than any story in my stack of erotica romance novels,” Kiki chirps, looking back and forth between me and Adam.

  “This is nothing like your trashy novels.”

  “Yeah. For one thing, the things I would do to Katie would give your books a run for their money,” he says.

  My face is on fire now. I can’t believe he is speaking so bluntly in front of everyone, even his father. “You wish,” Dirt pipes up. “I bet she wouldn’t touch your nasty ass with a ten-foot pole. She wants a real man, like me, not a boy, Nash.” Dirt pounds his fist on his chest. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, and my heart races as I try to make sense of the banter in the room.

  “I told you this was a bad idea. You all are joking around like this can’t end anything, but bad,” James says, lighting a cigarette.

  My throat goes dry. I pick up the glass of water, trying to wash away the panic that is stuck in my throat. Part of me is screaming that James is right, the other part of me is trying to find an escape route for when the world completely closes in around me and crushes every part of me.

  “So you’re the reason Adam has used up all the Vaseline,” the boy they call Playboy says with an obscene gesture.

  Almost choking on my water, I glance across the table at Adam, who is unabashedly looking at me, not even denying it.

  “Andrew, you don’t speak that way in front of a lady.” Victor reaches over and smacks him upside the head. Narrowing his eyes, he grumbles an apology into his bowl of chili.

  I set my glass down. “Excuse me, I need some fresh air.” I don’t wait for anyone to answer as I bolt out the door. Pushing through the door I stumble out, but outside doesn’t help with the feeling of all the air being choked out of me. The sky seems to be lower, and everything closes into me. I want to run, escape, but there is nowhere to run to. I try to focus on my breathing, but that doesn’t help, so I just run.

  I find her sitting in her car with her head against the steering wheel. Thinking about all that broken glass that covers the floor, I cringe.

  Shit, why did I have to push her? I’m a fucking asshole. I watch her back rise and fall. She is crying, and I don’t know how to fix it. I feel helpless and small, like a tiny child. I grew up in a house full of guys, where emotions like tears are not a common event and are cured by a slug to the shoulder or kicking the crap out of the guy who decided to fuck with this band of misfit brothers. While I dated Karly, she never once cried. In fact, I don’t think the girl has tear ducts.

  “Katie.” Her head snaps up, and when she sees me, she quickly wipes away the tears on her cheeks. The red that rims her eyes makes the green stand out even more. “Shit, I’m sorry about how I acted back there. And the guys, I’m sorry about them, too. They’re prickheads. I’m a prickhead.”

  This makes her smirk just the slightest. “You are a prickhead,” she sniffles.

  God, I want to pull her to me and comfort her, hold her like I did the other night. She felt so right in my arms like I could keep her safe from the world, but doubt creeps in my mind. If I couldn’t keep her safe from me, how the hell can I keep her safe from anyone else? We stare at each other for a moment, as if our thoughts can be read by the other. Sighing, I shake my head and walk around the car, getting in the passenger side. I breathe in the alluring smell of lavender and vanilla, intensified now that she is in the car with me.

  “I really am sorry.” I run my hand over the smooth leather of the gear shaft. She lets out a breath that feels like she has been holding for a long time.

  “I know,” she whispers, leaning her head against the headrest. My eyes automatically travel from her face down her long neck to where her creamy white breasts rise and fall in the moonlight that trickles in the window. I want to reach over and let my fingers run across her smooth skin; I want to hear the sounds that she makes under my touch.

  She shifts so that she is facing me. “Adam, my life is a mess,” she admits.

  “No one has it completely together, and if they tell you otherwise, they are lying to themselves.”

  “It just felt like everything was so perfect. I never, ever had to worry about things like money. I just had to …”

  “Just had to what?” I urge her to continue, but she shakes her head and sighs. We sit in silence, both lost in our thoughts. My mind is cartwheeling between wanting to kiss her and wanting to fix everything that is wrong with the world so that nothing will ever hurt her again. My chest aches with the knowledge that if I haven’t already completely fallen for her, that I’m falling hard and fast, ready to crash into the ground.

  She breaks the silence. “Adam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m scared,” she whispers into the dark.

  “Me too,” I whisper back. Finding her fingers, I lace her hand with mine. She is scared for her uncertain future, as I am about mine without her in it.

  “Katie, the only reason I’m taking this case is because your father is one of my oldest friends.”

  I sit silently as guilt fills me with this man’s confession. If he was so close to my father, why were there never any family trips to see him and his family, or Saturday BBQs at the house? My father never spoke of him, and yet here he is helping my father. “The truth is that it doesn’t look good. He is looking at, at least, ten years.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his hooked nose. “How the hell did he let himself get so caught up in this mess? He should have come to me when he knew he was in trouble.” He looks at me with squinty eyes, as if I might hold the answers, but I don’t.

  I shift in my seat. Why didn’t Rylee meet me here like she agreed? I’m going to kill her. After Mr. Basest had called, I swallowed any pride and anger I had and called Rylee. She promised to meet me here since her dorm is in the next town over.

  Mr. Basest moves some papers across his already messy desk and mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “This is not good. Damn, why didn’t he tell me he was in this much trouble? What was he thinking?”

  My face is on fire. He thought that he needed to keep his wife happy, and his spoiled daughters in their fancy schools¸ and driving expensive cars. My stomach sours. My father could have told us; we would have understood … I would have understood. At least, I think I would have.

  “I want to help with his case,” I blurt.

  Mr. Basest runs his hands through his thinning hair. “Look, Katie, you’re a sweet kid, but—” he begins, but I stand cutting him off.

  “I want to help my father, and since you’re not getting paid to defend him, the more work you let me help with, the less money you pay out of your own pocket.” I clench my hands at my sides, determined not to let him tell me no. I want to clean up the mess my father left, help put our lives back on track even if it’s not the life we expected it to be.

  “Alright, alright, be here next Monday at nine.” He runs his hand through hair again. “You need to
understand, though … I can’t get your father out of jail, but I might be able to lessen the sentence.”

  I nod in understanding. “What about the house, and—”

  He holds up his hand, cutting off my list of belongings. “Katie, I’m sorry. There is nothing I can do about your things.”

  “Coffee.” I hold out a skinny venti vanilla latte above a hungover Rylee’s nose.

  “Go away.” She pulls the blanket over her head.

  “Come on. Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” I sing to her.

  “Aspirin,” she croaks. I dig some pills out of the bottom of my purse and give them to her. Black makeup rings her green eyes. “It’s too early for you to be this happy. What the hell is wrong with you?” Her red hair is matted up on one side; instinctively my hand goes to my own hair, smoothing down any loose strands. Rylee never did care what she looked like; it drove my mother up the wall. I can still hear their screaming fights over her appearance, or some other disappointing behavior from Rylee.

  “Um, first it’s two o’ clock in the afternoon, and second you missed the meeting with dad’s lawyer.” She snatches the coffee and pills from my hand. “Kate, would I being there really have made a difference? I’m sure you handled it just fine without me.” She reaches out and pats me on my cheek.

  I push her hand away. “You should have been there regardless. Did you even know what happened with dad?”

  “Yeah. Mom is a bitch, and he was trying to keep her fucking happy. A lot of good that did. She’s divorcing him.” She blows on the coffee. “Is this skim milk?”

  I feel like I have been punched in the gut. “You spoke with her?”

  “God, yes. Fuck her, Katie.”