Wilde Edge, page 2
“Don’t tell him I said so? But I agree. I never let him serve me coffee when I drop by.” Jo went to step back, only to discover that Taggart was still holding her hand in his. He glanced down at their joined hands and released hers slowly, letting his fingers trace over the roughened skin of her palm as he let go. Jo felt a tingle chase up her arm from that delicate touch and she had to remind herself to exhale.
“Lead the way,” Taggart said and moved out of the doorway, opening up a space for her to walk past him. She ducked into the hallway and turned away from him, but her body was acutely aware of his presence just a few feet behind her. How could he have affected her so much with a few words and a simple handshake?
He followed her to the staff room, whistling in appreciation when he spotted the gleaming espresso maker nestled in one corner. “Very nice,” he said, moving to stand just behind her, and for a moment Jo wasn’t sure if he was talking about the machine or something else. Her, maybe? She dismissed that thought as quickly as it came. Men who looked like Taggart Wilde didn’t flirt with dumpy little grease monkeys like her. She’d lost her illusions about handsome princes and white knights a long time ago.
“I need coffee to function, so this is one of my indulgences,” Jo said as rummaged for a clean mug. She kept her back to him the whole time, but she knew he was still just behind her. He was close enough she would have sworn she could feel the heat of his body warming hers.
“If that thing can make a cappuccino, I might just ask to move in here.”
“It does. But I think you might find it a little cramped in here, especially around lunch break. I do have a garden unit for rent, though. When my dad was alive he lived upstairs and I had the lower unit, but now…”
“I’m sorry. When did you lose him?”
“Over a year ago. I still miss him.” Jo kept her focus on making them both a coffee. The last thing she wanted to do was burn herself or worse, splash hot coffee all over a potential tenant. She could really use the extra income, if she could find somebody trustworthy to rent the space to.
“And he left this place to you?”
She gripped the full mugs and spun back to face him, ready to defend her life choices, only to find Taggart so close she had to tip her head back to see his face. “Yes, he did. He taught me to love cars, especially the classics. He used to joke that we Millers have gasoline running through our veins.”
Jo expected to find an expression of distaste or disinterest on Taggart’s face, but instead his eyes were glowing with good humor. “I like the classics myself. I drive a ’67 Chevy Impala my dad and I rebuilt together.” Well, hell. The man was hot, charming and he liked old cars. What she wouldn’t give for a guy like that to look twice at her.
“I’ve seen her. Cherry black paint job, right?” His car was a true beauty, and Jo had noticed it coming and going from Nick’s side of the lot more than once lately. She’d also noticed the sexy driver, and she finally realized why Taggart looked so familiar. She’d been watching him from a distance, coming and going from Wilde Ink.
“That’s Tiffany. I’m hoping to do some work on her this winter. I don’t suppose this suite of yours comes with garage space?”
“It does, but there’s not a lot of extra space once there’s two cars parked in there. Why don’t we head back to my office? You can tell me about yourself and why you need a new place to live,” Jo said and handed him the cleaner of the two mugs. “And you can tell me why you gave that gorgeous hunk of steel such a girly name.”
“Why does everyone have an issue with Tiff’s name?” He winked at her and gallantly gestured for her to take the lead. Jo was certain it was her imagination, but somehow she got the feeling his eyes never left her the whole walk back to her office.
Chapter Two
Tag hadn’t babbled in the presence of a pretty woman since high school, but damned if the curvy redhead hadn’t made his brain short circuit the second she had told him it was her garage. Women who loved cars were rare enough, but discovering there was a gorgeous, redheaded, female mechanic working only a few feet from where he’d been hanging out for the last month was a shock. He must have been in a bigger funk than he thought if she’d managed to go unnoticed this long.
It was more than time to get his shit together. Starting now.
He stayed standing until Jo had seated herself back at her desk. It was a shame, because the stacks of paper hid most of her lush little body from him. He’d been enjoying the view as he followed her back to the office, admiring how she filled out her well-worn jeans and the way her dark red curls bounced when she walked. He’d enjoyed the company of a wide variety of women in his life, but red hair and freckles were his weakness.
“Please, sit,” she said softly, flicking her fingers toward the only other chair in the office.
“My mom always taught me to stay standing until the lady was seated,” he explained as he settled into the chair, shifting his jacket to hide the bulge his cock was making in his jeans. Fuck, she was already getting to him, and all they’d done was talk.
“Really? Nick’s never done that.”
“Nicky’s special. If my parents told him to go left, he’d make a hard right. I love him, but he’s the most stubborn of us all, and that’s saying a hell of a lot.”
“All? I didn’t realize he had any siblings. Are there more of you?”
Tag snorted with laughter, happy to keep her talking about anything, just so long as he could keep listening to her speak. She had a hint of smoke and whiskey to her voice, and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. “Typical. Nick never talks about family. We’re the youngest of five brothers. He’s the baby.”
“There are five of you?” Jolena blinked at him.
“Five, noisy, grubby boys. And my folks will swear that none of us have ever really grown out of it.”
“I can’t imagine. I’m an only child, and since Dad died it’s just me rattling around the house.” Tag caught a flicker of loneliness in her pretty brown eyes. She was alone in the world.
Lonely means no boyfriend. Perfect.
There was no doubt in his mind he was going to make a play for Jolena Miller. Whether he rented from her or not, there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to let this sexy, classic car loving, redhead get away now he’d found her. She was everything he liked all wrapped up in one very fuckable package. His cock twitched in agreement, swelling until his jeans felt like they were suddenly two sizes too small and he had to make a conscious effort to remember what they had been talking about. “There are times I wish my family wasn’t quite so tight-knit, to be honest. A little more space would be nice sometimes,” he said, and then sipped his brew.
“Is that why you’re looking for a new place to live? Putting some distance between you and the folks?”
Tag nearly choked on his coffee. Christ. Had she just asked him if he still lived at home? What the hell kind of men was she used to meeting? “Nothing like that. I had a place near my old job, but the sublease is up and that career path turned out to be a dead end. I’m looking for a new start.”
A tiny frown line appeared and vanished a second later. “So, you don’t have a job?”
Fuck!
Talking a woman out of her clothes and into his bed used to be second nature, so why was he fucking this up so badly? He flashed his most charming smile and shook his head, then touched his knee. “I used to be a cop. I got shot and it was bad enough I had to retire. I have a pension though, and I plan on getting a new job. I’m good for the rent…I think.” He tipped his head to one side. “We haven’t discussed what you’re charging yet.”
Those soft, coral lips quirked up into a brief smile that made him wonder if they would taste as sweet as they looked. “That depends on what we’re talking about. Are we talking rent, or rent…and a place to work on Tiffany?” she asked and he inwardly cheered. Hot fucking damn, she was blushing a little. He hadn’t completely lost his touch.
“Both, I hope.”
“I think we can figure something out. Nick’s a great tenant, and if you were a police officer, then I hardly have to worry about you being a criminal, now do I? Why don’t you come by tonight? I’ll show you around, and then we can talk price. I’ll write down the address. It’s not that far from here. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding the place.”
“Just like that?” It surprised him that she was so trusting. This was Chicago, not some small town where everyone knew everyone else.
She glanced up from her writing and he watched in fascination as her teeth closed on her lower lip, worrying at it for a moment before she spoke again in that soft, husky voice he was already coming to adore. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t trust you, Taggart Wilde?”
“Tag. Everyone calls me Tag. And no, there’s no reason you shouldn’t trust me. But you should be more careful. You’re a beautiful woman, living alone. You probably shouldn’t be giving out your address to men you’ve just met.”
Her lip vanished under teeth again, but her eyes lowered to the desk between them and when she spoke again, her voice was even softer than before. “Now you sound like a cop. I’m trusting you because you’re Nick’s brother, and I intended to go talk to him right after you left. If he told me you were a shifty creep, then I was going to ask him to come with me for the meeting.”
“Shifty creep, huh? I think I’m insulted. You can make it up to me by accepting my invitation to go out for dinner after you’ve showed me the suite.”
“I…but…” Jolena’s head snapped up, eyes wide and her cheeks flaming a brilliant red.
“No buts. When do you get off work?”
“Um, the garage closes up at five.”
“Then I will see you at your place at six. Unless you’d like me to pick you up here? I sort of figured you’d have your own car though.”
She smiled at that. “What kind of mechanic doesn’t have her own car? I happen to drive a ’65 Mustang.”
Fuck. It’s official: I’ve found my perfect woman.
“That is the sexiest thing I have ever heard a woman say.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Holy shit, where was his filter? It was like he was a horny teenager again, all awkward lines and bad timing. All that was missing was the acne.
Instead of laughing at him, Jolena ducked her head again, hiding her face. Shit, had he just fucked up? “Flirting with me won’t get the rent lowered, you know that, right?” Her voice was a husky whisper, and he heard the doubt in her tone. Not much, just a hint. It was enough. He’d spent years learning to read a person from tone and body language, and right now hers was screaming at him. Someone had done a number on her, tearing down her confidence so badly that she didn’t believe he’d go out with her without having an ulterior motive.
“I don’t care if you tell me you’re not renting the place to me at all. I’d still like to take you to dinner.”
“Really?” She peeked up at him, her eyes full of uncertainty.
“Absolutely. I mean, if you’re good with going out with a slightly gimped ex-cop.” He intended to offer it up as a joke, to make her smile, but once the words were out he felt a pang of doubt. The truth was he hadn’t gone out with anyone on a real date since he’d been shot. Lots of flirting and putting on a show, but that’s all it was, a show. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see his scars and feel sorry for him, or worse, be repelled by them.
“You don’t look gimped to me,” she said and lifted her head to gift him with a small smile.
“Is that a yes?”
Her smile widened. “Yes. I’ll go to dinner with you. Just promise it won’t be anywhere fancy.”
“As luck would have it, I am not a fancy kind of guy. How does Italian sound?”
“That sounds great.” Jolena stood up, the piece of paper with her address on it in her hand as she came around to meet him. Tag stood, too, managing to time it so that she was caught between him and the front of her desk. He moved close enough she had to tip her head back to look up at him, and when he took the paper from her hand he let his fingers brush over hers for a brief second. A flash of heat sizzled up his arm and he saw her eyes go wide.
So she felt it too? Good.
Moving back, he gave her a wink and scanned her note before tucking it into his pocket. She’d included her phone number––even better. “I’ll see you tonight, Jolena.”
****
Holy hell, she was going on a date. How’d that even happen?
Since Greg, Jo had been very careful with her heart, though she had learned to be a better judge of character in the years since she’d fallen madly in love with that lying son of a bitch. Tag seemed sincere, and she knew his brother well enough to know she’d be safe, but Jo was well aware that men who looked like Tag didn’t usually go out with women like her unless they lost a bet.
Curiosity got the better of her common sense, and she found herself at the office’s one small window, watching Tag walk back to his car. He moved like a predator, all grace and power, covering the distance to his car with long, easy strides.
Once there, he unlocked the driver’s side door and then lifted his head to stare back at the garage. She felt like he was staring right at her. The office window was tinted, so she knew he couldn’t actually see her, but it didn’t matter. She was suddenly short of breath and a band of steel tightened around her chest as she stared back at him. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had just happened.
The feeling lingered even after Tag climbed into his car and drove away. She tried to do the paperwork but kept finding herself distracted by thoughts of his charming smile, or the way his broad shoulders had filled out his leather jacket and the dark t-shirt beneath it. He was definitely daydream material, and the idea that he might be living right below her was equal parts mouthwatering and terrifying.
Jo was about to call Nick and ask him about his brother when she heard her name being called. “Hey, Jo. There’s someone here to see you,” Tom, her head mechanic, shouted from the garage floor, down the hallway.
Strange, normally he just pointed people toward her office instead of calling for her to come out to the garage floor. The last time he’d called for her like this it was because her ex had made an unwelcome appearance, and there was no way they would ever let the two of them be alone together.
Every man in the shop had known Jo for years, and they were very protective of her. Greg had only hit her once, but it had been the last straw. She would never let him do it again, and the men who worked for her would kill him if he tried.
She made her way to the small reception office at the front of the garage and braced herself for what would no doubt be an unpleasant meeting. Greg knew he wasn’t supposed to set foot on the property, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying a few times since her father had died. No matter what she did, the jerk just wouldn’t stay gone for long.
Greg wasn’t alone, which was a surprise. There were two other men with him, and the moment she set eyes on them she knew something was up. Her ex-husband was usually all swagger and bravado, flashing his perfectly veneered smile and making sure he was the center of attention. Not this time. His jacket was rumpled and his red silk tie was slightly askew. He stood between the other two men with his head down so she couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark fall of his bangs.
His companions were both dark haired, dressed in impeccably tailored suits and leather shoes that gleamed with fresh polish. Seeing them standing beside Greg, it was like looking at two original works of art and one poor copy. They were everything Greg aspired to be but wasn’t. So what the hell were they doing with her ex?
“Jo-Jo! Hey, sorry to show up unannounced, but my associates really wanted to meet you and take a look around. You know, get a feel for the space. This is Mr. Sims and Mr. Jones. Gentlemen, this is Jolena.” Tag came to life like a B-list actor suddenly hit by a spotlight as he made introductions.
“Hello, Gregory. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought I made myself perfectly clear in my earlier email, so I’m not sure why your associates need to see my property,” she said, managing to keep her voice cool and emotionless despite the way her stomach rolled at the sight of him. Calm and firm was the only way to deal with Greg, but it wasn’t easy. She’d spent too long learning to keep her voice soft and her head down whenever he was nearby.
It wasn’t helping matters that he was using that ridiculous nickname. Jo-Jo was what Greg called her when he was trying to get her to forgive him for some transgression, or talk her into doing something she would inevitably regret. It set her teeth on edge.
“Email?” The slimmer of the two men asked, the barest twitch of a brow altering his nearly impassive expression. Both men turned to face her, arms crossing over their chests as they stared in stony silence.
“The email I sent to Gregory an hour ago making it very clear that I’m not now, nor will I ever be, interested in selling my business or the property it’s built on.” Jo straightened to her not overly impressive full height of five-foot three and reminded herself these people were on her territory. She would not let them intimidate her, no matter how hard they tried. She’d come a long way since she’d fled to her father’s house in the middle of the night with a black eye and a broken heart.
“Jo-Jo, I really think you need to reconsider. This is a sweet deal.” Greg’s voice had taken on that slick tone she knew all too well. There had been a time when his charms would have won her over, but not anymore.
She skewered Greg with a glare. “No. I’m sorry, but my answer is final. This is my family’s business. Not yours. You need to go now.”
The larger man frowned. “You’re not family? You’re his wife, aren’t you?”
What the hell had Greg told these people? “I’m his ex-wife. We’ve been divorced for over two years. This business belonged to my father and I inherited it when he died, which was after the divorce papers were signed.” Greg had gone ashen, and when the larger of the two men turned to glower at him he quailed and then started stammering. “W-we’re talking about reconciling, so it’s not the way it sounds…”
