Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
But then his wild blue eyes with thick black lashes are an open book. He makes you laugh but never feel laughed at. He opens doors and overtips servers—he pulls over on the side of a busy highway to help a random old man with his car in a one-hundred-degree, hundred-percent humidity afternoon when he could just keep going.
I sigh and raise my eyes to Rebecca’s. “So I called Ashley to see if Maddox was busy.”
She leans back, her eyes widening and a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Blah, blah, blah,” I say, getting to the part she’s obviously expecting. “Banks shows up.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She leans forward like she’s about to leap over the table.
“Easy, tiger,” I say, laughing. “Don’t attack me.”
“Banks Carmichael showed up at your apartment to get your vibrator out of the toilet. Is that what you just told me?”
“Yup.”
Her face flushes, and she sits back again. “My brain just blew up.”
“Imagine what my brain did.” And my body. “My vibe was in his hand—just lying there in his palm like it was a pile of candy or something.”
“I don’t think I could’ve handled that. Heck, I can’t handle it, and it’s not even mine, and I wasn’t even there.”
Laughing, I go back to my fajita creation.
Like me, Rebecca secretly drools over the Carmichael men. She prefers the quieter ones, though. Her preference has always been for Jess or Foxx. Me? Quiet is boring. Give me all the energy.
“It wasn’t how I anticipated the afternoon going, that’s for sure,” I say.
“You know …” She swishes her margarita around in her glass. “You’re going to be at Ashley’s for a few days, and he lives across the street.”
It’s crossed my mind. More than once.
I’ll undoubtedly be blessed with more than a few visuals of Banks Carmichael. But that will be all the blessings I’ll be bestowed.
At the end of the day, we operate on some level of frenemies. We’re not flat-out enemies, but I wouldn’t say we’re friends. Sometimes that kind of situation can result in the hottest sex imaginable—but it never ends well. There’s a compatibility problem that shouldn’t be ignored. And with Maddox being his brother and Ashley one of my closest friends, that’s trouble with a capital T.
I’m a seasoned vet about this kind of thing, and Banks flies every red flag with the words this will be complicated printed on the side.
My life has enough complications to last a lifetime—most of which I don’t give two cares about. But adding Banks to that list?
That would be the most foolish thing I could do.
4
Banks
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
Tasha looks up from her computer and leans back in her chair. “I had a few things I needed to catch up on, and you guys are so distracting during the day that I can’t get to them during normal business hours.”
“Sucks to be you.”
She grins. “I brought you a coffee. It’s on your desk.”
“This is how you keep your job security, Tash. Bringing me treats.”
“Huh. I thought it was that I’m the only one around here who knows how to do all the things that don’t involve a wrench.”
I grin too. “Well, and that.”
Tasha has opened all the shades in the Carmichael Classics lobby, filling the room with bright early Saturday morning sunlight. The shop is officially closed on the weekends, but I’m here nearly every day. Dad always said to find a job that doesn’t feel like work. The only thing that didn’t feel like work was messing with cars. I’ve managed to assemble a pretty amazing group of people to help build my business into something I’m proud of—and Tasha is the person who makes sure that all pieces of the company operate smoothly.
I couldn’t do this without her. I wouldn’t know where to start.
“How long are you going to be here?” she asks. “I have a stack of parts invoices that I need you to approve. I tried to nail you down all week and couldn’t.”
“Where are they?”
She plops a folder on the edge of her desk. It hits with a thud.
“That’s a lot,” I say, eyeing it.
“Most of them are for the car Eddie’s working on. The bump from fun car to show car hasn’t been cheap.”
I pick up the folder and sigh. “Well, I warned the guy about that and was even heavy on the numbers. It’s probably going to double our man hours, let alone this.” I shake the folder in the air. “But it’s not my money he’s spending, and it’s gonna fatten my bank account, so whatever.”
“Speaking of Eddie—you remember he’s taking the next two weeks off, right?”
“No. Why is he doing that?”
“He’s visiting family in Portugal,” she says, laughing. “You literally had a conversation about this a month ago right here. You were standing in the same spot you’re in now.”