Satellite of Love. Christa Maurice
Urg. Well, it had been nice while it lasted. Before she screwed it up, she’d had the focused attention of a really sexy guy for a whole evening.
He bit his lip and shook his head once. “So what are you doing tomorrow?”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“But I’m a prude,” she blurted out.
Michael shrugged. “I can work with that. How about I pick you up around noon? We’ll grab some lunch and go see what there is to do.” He jumped out of the car and hurried around to the passenger door.
Maureen looked up at him when he opened it. “You’re serious.”
“I said I was.” Michael held out his hand.
As he guided her from the car, she protested, “There really isn’t a lot to do around here.”
“I’m sure we can find something.” He stopped in front of the door and looked at her expectantly.
Her mouth went dry. What was he waiting for? An invitation in? Another kiss? Either one would be nice. Not her, but nice. What would he do if she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him?
Dumb question.
“Are you going to unlock the door?” he asked.
That, on the other hand, was an excellent question.
Maureen dug through her purse for her keys. She unlocked the door quickly as if it would make up for standing on the porch like a thunderstruck teenager. “So you’ll come over tomorrow?”
“Noonish, and I’ll see what I can do about getting your car finished.” He kissed her cheek. “Good night, Maureen.”
“Night.” After she’d closed her front door, she leaned against it trying to remember how to breathe. She’d lost her mind. That was the only explanation. Too many blind dates and she’d gone gaga for the guy who fixed her car. Check that. The brother of the guy who fixed her car. The way she was acting, he was a movie star.
Well, as long as she managed to keep her head, it wouldn’t be so bad. Once he went back to wherever he lived, it would fizzle. Long distance relationships never worked for her. The two times she’d tried, they’d imploded in months and both of those had been established before the separation.
No, this would be short and sweet, emphasis on sweet because she wasn’t going any further with some guy she was never going to see again. Especially since she had to face his brother every time her car broke down.
* * * *
Bear went straight back to Tony’s house. He wanted to turn in early so he could work on Maureen’s car before he went to pick her up. If he could get the parts, he’d have it done by the time he needed to pick her up. The Satellite wouldn’t be finished before he left town anyway and the lure of being her hero was enticing. He was already imagining the expression on her face when he pulled into her driveway with her car.
“You hung out at the garage late,” Pam said as he walked in the front door. “You get much done?”
“No. One of the regulars showed up with bad brakes so I took her to dinner.” Bear walked through the living room headed for the rumpus slash guest room they put him in when he visited. “Wake me up in the morning. I want to get a head start on her car before I pick her up.”
“What?” Tony floundered off the couch like a turtle trying to turn off its back. “What did you just say?”
Bear stopped at the end of the hall. “One of your regulars came in with a brake problem. I want to get it taken care of so I can take her car back when I pick her up tomorrow.”
“Pick her up?” Tony put his fists on his hips. “You asked her out on a date?”
“Yeah.”
“Bear.” Pam stood too. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t screw with the locals, Bear. These are my customers,” Tony said.
“I’m not screwing with the locals. She doesn’t even know who I am. I just want to have a nice normal couple of dates before I have to go back to the circus. Trust me.”
Tony glanced at Pam and scowled at him. “Who is it?”
“Maureen Donnelly.”
“Miss Donnelly?” Tony folded his arms.
“Bear, that’s the teacher we’re hoping to get for Nicky next year.” Pam wrung her hands.
“So?” Bear looked from his brother to his sister-in-law. They were clearly peeved, but why? Other than a momentary loss of reason in the car tonight, he’d been on his best behavior. The whole night, he’d been a perfect gentleman and he planned to continue. “What’s the big deal?”
“This is not some groupie you can walk away from,” Tony said.
“I’m not treating her like a groupie. We went to dinner. Tomorrow we’re going to go to lunch and then we’re going to go do something in the afternoon. And I’m hoping to get up early enough to take care of her brakes before I pick her up. Is that okay?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Well, that must suck for you.” Bear dropped his keys into his pocket. “I’m gonna go out with Maureen a couple of times while I’m in town and then I’m gonna leave and you all can get back to your regularly scheduled programming. She never needs to be the wiser and we can just be those two ships who pass in the night. See ya in the morning.”
Inside the guest room, he sat on the foot of the sofa bed. If on that day, freshman year of high school, when Brian and Jason had walked up to him in the hall and one of them had said, “We heard you play drums” if he’d said no, he could have had this life. The mortgage, the business loan, the regular programming. He could have met Maureen when she brought her junker in for a repair and taken her out for dinner without Tony and Pam freaking out. Hell, by now he might have been sharing that mortgage with her. As shaky as the car was, she must have had it in a lot. The repairs could have served as a courtship.
Bear put his elbows on his knees and buried his hands in his hair. He’d promised Marc he would do a drop-in next week. He was going to have to be a rock star for one day in the middle of playing regular guy. Greatest job in the world.
* * * *
Maureen scrubbed the makeup off her face. It looked ridiculous and she didn’t know where they were going. Studying herself in the mirror, she discovered she’d splashed water all over her shirt. Super. Any second, he was going to be here and she’d gotten herself drenched.
She ran into the bedroom, yanking the yellow, long sleeved knit shirt over her head as she went. Her second choice was a turtleneck with tiny flowers all over it that screamed elementary school teacher. Most of her clothes screamed elementary school teacher. They might explain her dating track record. What man wanted to spend time with a woman who dressed like she might launch into a lesson on fractions at any moment? She pulled on the back up and ran her fingers though her hair, which promptly stuck up in all directions.
The phone rang in the kitchen. At least she hoped it was in the kitchen. She kept forgetting to put it back on the charger.
“Hello?” she answered it.
“Hey, how did the date go last night?” Linda asked.
“Oh my God, last night was fantastic.” Eyes closed, she recalled Michael sitting across the table from her, drumming his fingertips together and saying excellent just like Mr. Burns.
“Really?” Linda sounded dubious. Why?
“Oh wait. I didn’t actually meet the guy you fixed me up with. I had car trouble.”
“And