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Synopsis
The men of Twisted Steel are great with their hands.
And they're not afraid to get dirty.
Duke Bradshaw, co-owner of the Twisted Steel custom motorcycle and hot rod shop, may devote his days to chrome and leather, but his nights belong to Carmella. His sultry redheaded neighbor has a smile like an angel and a body built for sin, and for the past year both have dominated Duke's dreams. When a problem at Twisted Steel requires a fast fix, Duke sees his chance to finally make his fantasy a reality.
Ever since she first heard the low rumble of his engine, Carmella Rossi has wondered if Duke Bradshaw handles his women as expertly as he handles his bike. When he shows up at her door offering her a much-needed job at his shop, she gets her chance to find out. Beneath Duke's masterful touch, Carmella soon submits to a world of unimaginable pleasure.
But history has taught Carmella how bad a boy boy can be. If she doesn't put on the brakes fast, her hard-bodied heart-breaker could drive her right over the edge...
A Hachette Audio production.
Release date: August 4, 2015
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Print pages: 352
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Falling Under
Lauren Dane
Carmella Rossi held the truck door open for Ginger, who hopped down with a happy look. Carmella understood, she wanted to dance around for joy now that they weren’t at her mother’s house too.
Medication had been delivered for the next three days—it wouldn’t do to let her have any more than that. She’d just use it all and then not have enough and eventually end up in an ER somewhere trying to get pain scrips to get her through.
“Some people’s mothers make pies,” Carmella told the dog as they headed up the steps to the front porch.
Her key was in the lock when she and Ginger both paused at the throaty growl of a motorcycle approaching.
Duke Bradshaw. The hottest neighbor in the history of hot neighbors.
Considering the morning she’d just had with her mother, it was a nice treat to see all that long, hot, inked man get off a motorcycle and amble to his front door.
“Totally the best thing about this entire neighborhood,” Carmella murmured.
Ginger got in front of Carmella and sat. Ever protective and also sort of hot for Bradshaw just like her human was.
Carmella looked to the front door. “We should go in. Come on. It’s weird to wait out here like weirdos.” Not like it wasn’t weird to have a full conversation with a dog.
Ginger made a doggie snort but shook, her tags jingling merrily as she followed Carmella up to the front door.
And that’s when Duke Bradshaw pulled not into his driveway, but Carmella’s. That caught her attention as she unlocked to let Ginger inside. But the man brought Ginger bones from time to time so the Manchester terrier had no intention of leaving Carmella alone to greet the big, bad, tattooed biker who lived next door.
“Jeez, dog, he’s on his motorcycle. He’s not carrying bones in his pocket.” Not that she was unaware that he quite frequently appeared to have something pretty hefty behind that zipper of his.
His bike was beyond gorgeous and the sight of it never failed to make her heart beat faster. Flat, matte black. No chrome at all. It was a custom rebuild of a 1963 BMW. It was understated and classic while still being really sexy and super masculine. It also sounded like sex—low and throaty, the bass of it settled into her belly in much the same way his voice did.
He keyed the bike off and pulled it back on the stand before sliding one long leg over. He wore a half helmet bearing the logo of his shop, the T and the S swirling together looking sharp and badass.
His attention seemed to settle on her like a physical thing, freezing her to the spot.
And then he smiled and every erogenous zone—including a few she hadn’t known existed until that moment—did the wave.
“Just the person I was looking for.” Duke hung his helmet on a handlebar and headed up the steps toward her, still wearing black wraparound sunglasses and his jacket.
She wondered—not for the first time—if he ever wore them while he had sex. Would you be able to see your own reflection as he fucked you?
Proud at the calm in her voice, Carmella smiled like she hadn’t just been imagining riding his cock while he wore sunglasses so she could watch herself.
“Me? Did Ginger get into something?” She gave a look toward the dog, whose normally erect ears were even perkier at the approach of the guy with the bones.
Duke bent to give Ginger a scratch behind the ears. “Nah. She’s a sweetheart. It’s her owner I’d like to talk about.”
There was honey and lazy afternoons in his voice. Charming. He tucked the sunglasses into his shirt pocket and his pale green eyes took her in. Laugh lines only made him more attractive.
He had a tiny smattering of gray at his temples but it worked with the gold and caramel tones of hair that was closely trimmed at the sides, long and thick at the top. He had some sort of nouveau rockabilly thing happening.
Her fingers itched to reach out and touch.
“Um.” She shook her head, disgusted with how flustered he always seemed to make her. He’d been her neighbor for going on two years so there was no reason to get fluttery, but every single time she spoke to him, he seemed to turn her into a twit.
Ginger barked and Carmella pushed the storm door open. “Sorry, where are my manners? Come in.”
She let the familiarity of her front entry calm her a little as she bent to free Ginger from the harness and leash.
Duke’s hand landed on her elbow when she stood again. “Here, let me help you with your bags.”
She shrugged free of the totes slung over one shoulder, repressing a shiver as his fingers brushed the side of her neck. Carmella thanked him as he hung them on the peg.
Removing herself from the temptation to touch him or his leather jacket, Carmella stepped back with a smile. “You have excellent manners. Your parents did a good job.”
“The army gets most of the credit for that.” Again the grin.
“Want some iced tea? I was just going to make more.” Of course, she’d been pondering whether or not to add a big dollop of whiskey to hers, but those were easily changed plans.
“Sure.”
He placed his hand at the small of her back as he followed her through the house and into her kitchen. Which really threw a wrench into her plan of trying not to think about this big, tall, broad-shouldered man right behind her.
He took up a lot of space. His scent seemed to push itself ahead of everything else, the electricity of his body seemed to hum from him on a frequency she wanted a lot more of.
Duke was a toucher. Not in a creepy way at all, but he frequently brushed his fingers over her forearm, or a shoulder when they spoke. In another man she’d have said something or made enough of a movement away that her don’t touch me would have been clear. But she liked it when he did it so she allowed herself that sensual treat.
She pointed to a stool at the kitchen island. “Have a seat and tell me what brings you here at eleven in the morning.”
Ginger kept staring at Duke lovingly until Carmella sighed. “Ginger, leave the man alone.” So easy. Give her a bone and she’d love you forever.
“Aw she just wants some attention. It’s okay, I’ve got some.” Duke leaned down and gave Ginger enough scratches and rubs until she made a groaning sound of joy and fell over on her side.
Carmella wanted him to do something to her to make her create that sound too. And she bet he could. With any combination of his hands, mouth, and that roll of quarters he carried around in his pocket that was probably a cock that got shit done.
And as if he’d heard her thoughts, he flicked his gaze up from the dog to her and smiled, bringing a blush to heat her cheeks and neck.
“I have a proposition for you.”
She blinked, clearing her throat as she kept her hands busy putting teabags in the mugs. “You do?” If it had anything to do with his penis, she was ready to accept.
He touched her hand briefly. “Our accounts payable person just quit. As in she’s-moving-across-the-country-in-a-week-and-leaving-us high-and-dry quit. I know you did the books before for a few years and I hope you don’t mind, but I called your old boss and he had nothing but great things to say about you. Asa and I would really love it if you could take over as soon as possible as our office manager. It could be a win-win for us both. You need a job. We need an employee. We pay well. We have good benefits. The hours are pretty flexible.”
Ginger growl-barked and Duke’s attention shifted for a moment. “Oh, and we’re dog friendly so you could bring her with you if you wanted to.”
“You called my old boss? He’s my uncle. You know that, right?”
Duke laughed. “I did, yes. He told me several times, along with a few dire warnings that you were a good girl not to be messed with. He still had nothing but nice things to say about you. You have the experience we need. Our shop is bigger, but you understand the basics.”
Her uncle’s auto repair business had been a mainstay in North Seattle for thirty-five years. When the economy took a hit, he did too. And though things had begun to recover, he hadn’t ever been the same. It’d been hard to compete with the quick-serve corporate repair places, and in the end, after a few health scares, he’d taken it as a sign to close up and retire.
“He’s family, so he has to say nice things about me.” He was her mother’s brother, and more of a parent to her than her mother had ever been.
A job would be really good. She’d decided not to stay on when new management took over her uncle’s place after he sold it, fairly sure she and the new owner were a bad fit. Her unemployment was enough to keep the lights on, but not much more. She had savings, but preferred not to touch that if she could avoid it.
Duke’s smile was one of the sexiest things about him, she realized as she nearly poured boiling water on her hand instead of in the pitcher.
“You know the industry. We’re nice guys, I promise. We bring in food every Friday. Free soda in the fridge and ice cream bars in the freezer. I did mean it about the dog friendly thing. One of our guys has a Jack Russell terrier. Xena, as in the warrior princess? She hangs out a few days a week. She’ll love Ginger. What do you say?”
Carmella should say that being in routine, close quarters with Duke Bradshaw was bad for all her promises to stay away from bikers and grease monkeys and the like. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see his appeal. No, it was the opposite.
He was pretty much a total package. Tall, he stood well over six feet. He was handsome. Like really handsome in that rugged, works with his hands way, which in her opinion was the best kind of man. Duke wouldn’t be thrown off by hard work. If something broke, he got it fixed. Broad shoulders, work-strong muscled arms and legs. She’d seen him in enough T-shirts to know he had detailed ink on his arms and belly. A really flat belly too. He moved with confidence, like he always knew exactly where he was going and how to get there.
Duke was at ease with himself. That sort of confidence was a sensual punch to the gut. She knew she wasn’t alone in liking him. Friends were often at his house on the weekends and in the evenings. Never so rowdy she considered calling the cops. Always cleaned up afterward.
He owned his business. Owned his home and a number of vehicles. At times he had a slow as molasses delivery with a hint of New England. And then he’d say right on like some sort of Zen surfer.
No matter what he said, he said it and made her hot and wet and tingly.
On top of all those things? He had an amazing ass.
She was beyond any ability to deny his appeal. If she could have ticked a bunch of her favorite man-type things and that was rendered human, it would look a hell of a lot like the guy in her kitchen just then.
And none of that erased the fact that she couldn’t afford a man like him. Her mother would love him, which was Carmella’s general meter for acceptability in a gentleman companion. The more Virgie approved, the less suitable the guy would be. She’d loved Carmella’s ex-husband too and look where that had gotten her.
But he wasn’t there asking her to nail him. He was offering her a job. And damn if she didn’t need one of those. The number he’d rattled off as a starting salary was higher than her old job. She needed the benefits and the income, and he was right—she was familiar with the industry so it would probably be pretty easy to get started.
But she had a crush on the man. If he was her boss, that would complicate things. Not like he’d made a single move her way in the time she’d lived next door to him, though.
“Wow, you’re doing a lot of thinking in there.” He tapped her temple and she smiled.
“Not thinking gets a girl caught in too many dead ends.” She paused. “You said you needed me right away?”
He nodded. “The sooner you can start, the better. Even if it’s just a few hours here and there until you can start full time.”
“All right then. Sounds like you have a new office manager.”
Motor oil, metal, rubber from tires new and ancient, the bite of new paint, and the buttery tones of leather—these were the scents that greeted Duke as he pushed open the side door of Twisted Steel on a gorgeous July morning.
Their logo, mounted high on the wall across from the main doors, caught the sunlight on the sharp edges of the letters. He’d seen it thousands of times and yet every time it moved him still.
He’d created this place with his hands, his heart, and his mind. He and his best friend Asa had started their custom build business in Asa’s cousin’s garage. Just scraping by as they created a reputation and saved every damned penny they could.
He looked around their space. They were open six days a week with Duke and Asa still part of every single project.
They continued to build—both reputation and footprint. Ground had been broken on the construction of a brand-new showroom nearly twice the size of the one they had now. A gleaming, soaring space where they’d show off current work and greet potential clients.
They didn’t get where they were by slacking and neither man planned to lose what they’d fought so hard to achieve. Which was why Duke was there at six thirty on a Thursday morning to finish a project due to be delivered the following day.
The bounce in his step, though, was entirely due to the fact that their replacement office manager was starting in just a few hours. Just thinking about Carmella Rossi made him smile.
Asa was already in their break room pouring himself a mug of coffee when Duke walked in hoping to find some caffeine. He held up the carafe before putting it back. “Just made a pot. Better get some before everyone else gets here.”
Duke grinned as he put his saddlebags away in one of the lockers lining the back wall. “Right on,” he said, grabbing his mug from the dishwasher on his way over.
Duke lifted his coffee mug in salute as Mick came in with a huge box of bagels and every kind of topping you could want. “Figured that since we have to go over the schedule, we should carb load,” Mick said.
They had a lot of finish work to do, which meant the rest of their crew would begin to show up soon enough. The custom leatherwork on the doors had been a week behind its due date, which put the entire project’s schedule at risk. And then there’d been trouble with the headers.
Mick, the third in the Twisted Steel hierarchy and the master of their build schedule, had dealt with each setback patiently and efficiently, which left Duke and Asa alone to fall into the work.
“Another reason I’m glad to have you around,” Duke said as he helped himself to one of the few rye bagels. Mick understood what it meant to have his mojo interrupted so he often played offensive line to protect the headspace Duke liked to fall into when he got his hands on any machine.
Mick had a large whiteboard calendar he rolled over, along with the laptop and the ever-present notepad he kept in his back pocket, and they had some breakfast and coffee while going over the schedule for the next week.
“We probably should have included Carmella in this meeting,” Mick said. “I’ll get with her soon to see what her preference is. I think it’s good for her to sit in a few times at least to get a feel for how we work.”
All the guys had been thrilled that Carmella accepted the job, especially knowing she did the books and managed the office for her uncle’s business for years.
Kismet, Duke thought.
“Makes sense. Did you crash here in your office or did you manage to make it home?” Duke asked Asa, who’d still been there when he’d finally left.
Asa rolled his head on his shoulders, a few cracks in his spine as he did. “I slept next to my woman. I’m getting too old for sleeping on couches. And I’m really too old to pretend I’m not way more comfortable at home with PJ.”
Eight months after Duke’s closest friend had moved in with his girlfriend PJ, there were still brawls and races, and plenty of working until all hours, but the heart of Asa’s life had settled and it looked damned good on him.
Duke was happy with his own life, but he had to admit sometimes he felt a twinge of yearning when he saw Asa and PJ together. Their connection was so clear, that sense of partnership so tangible it made Duke begin to think being with someone for the long haul was not only possible, but something he might want too.
“I’m going to get to it,” Duke said, standing and gathering his stuff, his head already in the hybrid 1934 Ford at his workstation.
Duke and machines had a thing. A hot, steamy affair. He touched them and they obeyed. As it should be. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t fix things, but he did recall the moment he understood it was more than a thing he did out of necessity but something he did because he loved it.
Which was a good thing because the Ford was pretty much a rebuild. The parts had taken forever to drum up and even then they had to machine a lot of their own stuff and repurpose a different Ford engine when the one it came with nearly blew up.
That’s when Duke had taken over the project. The guys they employed at Twisted Steel were all great. Skilled in their trades and consistently turned out fantastic work.
But this persnickety ’34 wasn’t going to submit to anyone but Duke. So, Mick kept people away from Duke, enabling a mind-set Asa referred to as “the machine whisperer.”
There was no need to hammer home who was boss. No, Duke was a chill dude for a reason. Machines didn’t give a damn how much you needed them to work. They didn’t worry about breaking down. Moods were irrelevant to whatever Duke wanted to fix so he always figured he might as well keep his act together instead of losing his shit.
Instead, they responded to patience and determination.
A little bit of magic, some luck, lots of skill, and endless patience and the ’34’s engine had a rumbling growl. And when they finished up, the car would be one of their best builds yet, bringing them enough cash—and attention as the customer was a car enthusiast with connections at several magazines—to continue to make their mark as masters of their craft.
Asa stopped by, interrupting Duke what turned out to be two hours later. “Carmella just arrived. Let’s not scare her away with our bad manners the first day.”
“Especially as I pretty much ambushed her when I made the job offer.”
Twisted Steel had been in a bind and Duke was not even the tiniest bit embarrassed at how fast he took it up as a chance to be around her more.
She walked in, impressed by the place immediately. Sure it was a shop; she’d been in them on a regular basis pretty much her entire life so there was always a sense of homecoming. But some shops were shitholes. Most were in the middle somewhere.
Twisted Steel, though, was special.
It was clear they took pride in what they did and the product they created.
“Morning, Carmella.”
Hello, tall, dark, and handsome. Hazel eyes took her in. Long, dark hair was tied back to expose one hell of a face. Tawny skin with ink peeking out here and there. He wiped his hands on a cleanup rag.
Asa Barrons. The other owner of Twisted Steel. He held out a hand and drew it back. “Sorry, I was just dealing with a funky carb. Let’s just pretend I shook your hand and then I won’t get you dirty.”
Too bad. She bet he could get a girl really, really dirty. Carmella knew PJ Colman, Asa’s girlfriend. PJ looked really happy every time Carmella saw her since getting together with Asa.
Instead of saying it and getting fired her first five minutes on the job, she smiled. “Hi there, Asa.”
“We’re glad to have you here. Let me take you to the office so you can meet Lottie.”
She followed him back to the administrative area that overlooked the work floor via a wall of glass. A petite woman with thick-rimmed glasses looked up.
“Lottie, this is Carmella, she’ll be taking over for you.”
Lottie waved as she came over and pulled Carmella into an unexpected hug. “Hi! Come on over and put your bag away. Asa, get back to work. I’ll get Carmella started after some coffee and a tour. Don’t worry, I won’t scare her off.”
“Okay then. Again, welcome to Twisted Steel, Carmella.”
Asa left and Lottie snorted. “They’re nice guys to work for. I’m bummed to be leaving.” And then she pretty much told Carmella her entire life story as she showed her where to stow her coat and other stuff.
“This’ll be your desk unless you want the other one. They, the guys I mean, use whichever desk you won’t be using a few times a day. I like this one because that one is right under the vent so it’s freezing in the summer and hot in the winter. Plus from here you can keep an eye on the floor where everyone works and the front door too. We don’t get much street traffic. They do have open hours for the showroom but there’s a receptionist over there so you don’t have to deal with any of that stuff. They only see clients by appointment. Asa and Duke have offices just through here.” Lottie indicated two side-by-side offices. “They see clients for consults usually over in the showroom, though.”
Sweet baby Jesus, how did this girl even breathe around all those words? Lottie was like a hummingbird, flitting all around, talking at hyper speed.
“Let’s go out and meet everyone. They’re finishing a job right now so I’ll warn you they might be short and a little punchy. They’ll deliver tomorrow and then there’ll be a huge feast here.” Lottie paused and looked Carmella over. “Good, you’re not wearing heels. I tried that when I first started. You’ll find yourself running around too much for heels.”
Ha. Heels in a shop? Not likely. She liked not breaking her bones too much for that.
She followed Lottie out but Duke was already approaching, smiling. “You’re here. Good. Come on so I can introduce you around.” He put his hand at her elbow and drew her away from Lottie, who didn’t even stop chattering for half a beat.
Despite Lottie’s warning, no one was anything less than friendly and welcoming to her.
Twisted Steel had a great crew. The Ford they were finishing up was stunning work. She walked around it, pausing here and there to appreciate the craftsmanship on every level.
“This is sweet,” Carmella said, meaning it.
Duke grinned. “I can’t lie, it’s fucking gorgeous. I’m glad it turned out so well, but damn, I’ll be sorry I can’t keep her.” He polished up the chrome of a side mirror.
He charmed her, this man who looked at his work through the eyes of a little boy.
He straightened, looking all around her at floor level. “Hey, where’s Ginger?”
“She’s at home. First day at a new job so I figured I’d bring her in next week. Just the mornings probably. She’s too social and would be in everything if I had her here all the time.”
“Well, it’s up to you, but she’s welcome.”
Carmella thanked him again and got back to work.
She spent the afternoon getting a quick and dirty education on how Twisted Steel liked its books handled. Carmella figured once Lottie was gone, she could apply some discipline and things would be a lot smoother. The other woman was sweet and friendly, but it appeared there was a lot of pestering of the crew over things like time sheets and invoicing.
Carmella liked to run a very tight front office so she’d have to see just how much change the folks at Twisted Steel would tolerate.
At quitting time, Lottie patted Carmella’s hand. “It’s time to clock out. You can work pretty much your own hours. I do eight to five but you can do nine to six or whatever. They’re here late all the time but there’s stuff you need to do during regular business hours. I’m sure you’ll get it all. It’s not like you’re new to this or anything. I’ll see you in the morning. I need to go home and help pack. John, that’s my husband, he says to thank you for jumping in so fast to help.” She smiled brightly up at Carmella. “We’ll go through payroll together first thing. Friday is doughnuts and bagels in the morning and they’re delivering that ’thirty-four so there’ll be more food after that too.”
Carmella asked her question quickly while Lottie appeared to be breathing instead of speaking. “Do I need to pick them up?”
“Nope. They’ll be delivered here first thing. Duke takes care of all that. Just come hungry.”
As Lottie and Carmella started to leave, Duke looked up from his work and jogged over to the doors. “Hey, how was your first day?”
Lottie answered, “She’s a natural. She’s gonna be great though I do hope you guys miss me at least a little.”
Duke put his arm around Lottie’s shoulder. “Of course we’ll miss you. It’ll probably be way quieter around here, that’s for sure.” He winked and Lottie laughed.
“See you in the morning.” Lottie scampered out and Carmella let out a long breath.
Duke laughed. “Yeah, she’s got a lot of energy. Sort of a tiny female Tigger someti. . .
Medication had been delivered for the next three days—it wouldn’t do to let her have any more than that. She’d just use it all and then not have enough and eventually end up in an ER somewhere trying to get pain scrips to get her through.
“Some people’s mothers make pies,” Carmella told the dog as they headed up the steps to the front porch.
Her key was in the lock when she and Ginger both paused at the throaty growl of a motorcycle approaching.
Duke Bradshaw. The hottest neighbor in the history of hot neighbors.
Considering the morning she’d just had with her mother, it was a nice treat to see all that long, hot, inked man get off a motorcycle and amble to his front door.
“Totally the best thing about this entire neighborhood,” Carmella murmured.
Ginger got in front of Carmella and sat. Ever protective and also sort of hot for Bradshaw just like her human was.
Carmella looked to the front door. “We should go in. Come on. It’s weird to wait out here like weirdos.” Not like it wasn’t weird to have a full conversation with a dog.
Ginger made a doggie snort but shook, her tags jingling merrily as she followed Carmella up to the front door.
And that’s when Duke Bradshaw pulled not into his driveway, but Carmella’s. That caught her attention as she unlocked to let Ginger inside. But the man brought Ginger bones from time to time so the Manchester terrier had no intention of leaving Carmella alone to greet the big, bad, tattooed biker who lived next door.
“Jeez, dog, he’s on his motorcycle. He’s not carrying bones in his pocket.” Not that she was unaware that he quite frequently appeared to have something pretty hefty behind that zipper of his.
His bike was beyond gorgeous and the sight of it never failed to make her heart beat faster. Flat, matte black. No chrome at all. It was a custom rebuild of a 1963 BMW. It was understated and classic while still being really sexy and super masculine. It also sounded like sex—low and throaty, the bass of it settled into her belly in much the same way his voice did.
He keyed the bike off and pulled it back on the stand before sliding one long leg over. He wore a half helmet bearing the logo of his shop, the T and the S swirling together looking sharp and badass.
His attention seemed to settle on her like a physical thing, freezing her to the spot.
And then he smiled and every erogenous zone—including a few she hadn’t known existed until that moment—did the wave.
“Just the person I was looking for.” Duke hung his helmet on a handlebar and headed up the steps toward her, still wearing black wraparound sunglasses and his jacket.
She wondered—not for the first time—if he ever wore them while he had sex. Would you be able to see your own reflection as he fucked you?
Proud at the calm in her voice, Carmella smiled like she hadn’t just been imagining riding his cock while he wore sunglasses so she could watch herself.
“Me? Did Ginger get into something?” She gave a look toward the dog, whose normally erect ears were even perkier at the approach of the guy with the bones.
Duke bent to give Ginger a scratch behind the ears. “Nah. She’s a sweetheart. It’s her owner I’d like to talk about.”
There was honey and lazy afternoons in his voice. Charming. He tucked the sunglasses into his shirt pocket and his pale green eyes took her in. Laugh lines only made him more attractive.
He had a tiny smattering of gray at his temples but it worked with the gold and caramel tones of hair that was closely trimmed at the sides, long and thick at the top. He had some sort of nouveau rockabilly thing happening.
Her fingers itched to reach out and touch.
“Um.” She shook her head, disgusted with how flustered he always seemed to make her. He’d been her neighbor for going on two years so there was no reason to get fluttery, but every single time she spoke to him, he seemed to turn her into a twit.
Ginger barked and Carmella pushed the storm door open. “Sorry, where are my manners? Come in.”
She let the familiarity of her front entry calm her a little as she bent to free Ginger from the harness and leash.
Duke’s hand landed on her elbow when she stood again. “Here, let me help you with your bags.”
She shrugged free of the totes slung over one shoulder, repressing a shiver as his fingers brushed the side of her neck. Carmella thanked him as he hung them on the peg.
Removing herself from the temptation to touch him or his leather jacket, Carmella stepped back with a smile. “You have excellent manners. Your parents did a good job.”
“The army gets most of the credit for that.” Again the grin.
“Want some iced tea? I was just going to make more.” Of course, she’d been pondering whether or not to add a big dollop of whiskey to hers, but those were easily changed plans.
“Sure.”
He placed his hand at the small of her back as he followed her through the house and into her kitchen. Which really threw a wrench into her plan of trying not to think about this big, tall, broad-shouldered man right behind her.
He took up a lot of space. His scent seemed to push itself ahead of everything else, the electricity of his body seemed to hum from him on a frequency she wanted a lot more of.
Duke was a toucher. Not in a creepy way at all, but he frequently brushed his fingers over her forearm, or a shoulder when they spoke. In another man she’d have said something or made enough of a movement away that her don’t touch me would have been clear. But she liked it when he did it so she allowed herself that sensual treat.
She pointed to a stool at the kitchen island. “Have a seat and tell me what brings you here at eleven in the morning.”
Ginger kept staring at Duke lovingly until Carmella sighed. “Ginger, leave the man alone.” So easy. Give her a bone and she’d love you forever.
“Aw she just wants some attention. It’s okay, I’ve got some.” Duke leaned down and gave Ginger enough scratches and rubs until she made a groaning sound of joy and fell over on her side.
Carmella wanted him to do something to her to make her create that sound too. And she bet he could. With any combination of his hands, mouth, and that roll of quarters he carried around in his pocket that was probably a cock that got shit done.
And as if he’d heard her thoughts, he flicked his gaze up from the dog to her and smiled, bringing a blush to heat her cheeks and neck.
“I have a proposition for you.”
She blinked, clearing her throat as she kept her hands busy putting teabags in the mugs. “You do?” If it had anything to do with his penis, she was ready to accept.
He touched her hand briefly. “Our accounts payable person just quit. As in she’s-moving-across-the-country-in-a-week-and-leaving-us high-and-dry quit. I know you did the books before for a few years and I hope you don’t mind, but I called your old boss and he had nothing but great things to say about you. Asa and I would really love it if you could take over as soon as possible as our office manager. It could be a win-win for us both. You need a job. We need an employee. We pay well. We have good benefits. The hours are pretty flexible.”
Ginger growl-barked and Duke’s attention shifted for a moment. “Oh, and we’re dog friendly so you could bring her with you if you wanted to.”
“You called my old boss? He’s my uncle. You know that, right?”
Duke laughed. “I did, yes. He told me several times, along with a few dire warnings that you were a good girl not to be messed with. He still had nothing but nice things to say about you. You have the experience we need. Our shop is bigger, but you understand the basics.”
Her uncle’s auto repair business had been a mainstay in North Seattle for thirty-five years. When the economy took a hit, he did too. And though things had begun to recover, he hadn’t ever been the same. It’d been hard to compete with the quick-serve corporate repair places, and in the end, after a few health scares, he’d taken it as a sign to close up and retire.
“He’s family, so he has to say nice things about me.” He was her mother’s brother, and more of a parent to her than her mother had ever been.
A job would be really good. She’d decided not to stay on when new management took over her uncle’s place after he sold it, fairly sure she and the new owner were a bad fit. Her unemployment was enough to keep the lights on, but not much more. She had savings, but preferred not to touch that if she could avoid it.
Duke’s smile was one of the sexiest things about him, she realized as she nearly poured boiling water on her hand instead of in the pitcher.
“You know the industry. We’re nice guys, I promise. We bring in food every Friday. Free soda in the fridge and ice cream bars in the freezer. I did mean it about the dog friendly thing. One of our guys has a Jack Russell terrier. Xena, as in the warrior princess? She hangs out a few days a week. She’ll love Ginger. What do you say?”
Carmella should say that being in routine, close quarters with Duke Bradshaw was bad for all her promises to stay away from bikers and grease monkeys and the like. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see his appeal. No, it was the opposite.
He was pretty much a total package. Tall, he stood well over six feet. He was handsome. Like really handsome in that rugged, works with his hands way, which in her opinion was the best kind of man. Duke wouldn’t be thrown off by hard work. If something broke, he got it fixed. Broad shoulders, work-strong muscled arms and legs. She’d seen him in enough T-shirts to know he had detailed ink on his arms and belly. A really flat belly too. He moved with confidence, like he always knew exactly where he was going and how to get there.
Duke was at ease with himself. That sort of confidence was a sensual punch to the gut. She knew she wasn’t alone in liking him. Friends were often at his house on the weekends and in the evenings. Never so rowdy she considered calling the cops. Always cleaned up afterward.
He owned his business. Owned his home and a number of vehicles. At times he had a slow as molasses delivery with a hint of New England. And then he’d say right on like some sort of Zen surfer.
No matter what he said, he said it and made her hot and wet and tingly.
On top of all those things? He had an amazing ass.
She was beyond any ability to deny his appeal. If she could have ticked a bunch of her favorite man-type things and that was rendered human, it would look a hell of a lot like the guy in her kitchen just then.
And none of that erased the fact that she couldn’t afford a man like him. Her mother would love him, which was Carmella’s general meter for acceptability in a gentleman companion. The more Virgie approved, the less suitable the guy would be. She’d loved Carmella’s ex-husband too and look where that had gotten her.
But he wasn’t there asking her to nail him. He was offering her a job. And damn if she didn’t need one of those. The number he’d rattled off as a starting salary was higher than her old job. She needed the benefits and the income, and he was right—she was familiar with the industry so it would probably be pretty easy to get started.
But she had a crush on the man. If he was her boss, that would complicate things. Not like he’d made a single move her way in the time she’d lived next door to him, though.
“Wow, you’re doing a lot of thinking in there.” He tapped her temple and she smiled.
“Not thinking gets a girl caught in too many dead ends.” She paused. “You said you needed me right away?”
He nodded. “The sooner you can start, the better. Even if it’s just a few hours here and there until you can start full time.”
“All right then. Sounds like you have a new office manager.”
Motor oil, metal, rubber from tires new and ancient, the bite of new paint, and the buttery tones of leather—these were the scents that greeted Duke as he pushed open the side door of Twisted Steel on a gorgeous July morning.
Their logo, mounted high on the wall across from the main doors, caught the sunlight on the sharp edges of the letters. He’d seen it thousands of times and yet every time it moved him still.
He’d created this place with his hands, his heart, and his mind. He and his best friend Asa had started their custom build business in Asa’s cousin’s garage. Just scraping by as they created a reputation and saved every damned penny they could.
He looked around their space. They were open six days a week with Duke and Asa still part of every single project.
They continued to build—both reputation and footprint. Ground had been broken on the construction of a brand-new showroom nearly twice the size of the one they had now. A gleaming, soaring space where they’d show off current work and greet potential clients.
They didn’t get where they were by slacking and neither man planned to lose what they’d fought so hard to achieve. Which was why Duke was there at six thirty on a Thursday morning to finish a project due to be delivered the following day.
The bounce in his step, though, was entirely due to the fact that their replacement office manager was starting in just a few hours. Just thinking about Carmella Rossi made him smile.
Asa was already in their break room pouring himself a mug of coffee when Duke walked in hoping to find some caffeine. He held up the carafe before putting it back. “Just made a pot. Better get some before everyone else gets here.”
Duke grinned as he put his saddlebags away in one of the lockers lining the back wall. “Right on,” he said, grabbing his mug from the dishwasher on his way over.
Duke lifted his coffee mug in salute as Mick came in with a huge box of bagels and every kind of topping you could want. “Figured that since we have to go over the schedule, we should carb load,” Mick said.
They had a lot of finish work to do, which meant the rest of their crew would begin to show up soon enough. The custom leatherwork on the doors had been a week behind its due date, which put the entire project’s schedule at risk. And then there’d been trouble with the headers.
Mick, the third in the Twisted Steel hierarchy and the master of their build schedule, had dealt with each setback patiently and efficiently, which left Duke and Asa alone to fall into the work.
“Another reason I’m glad to have you around,” Duke said as he helped himself to one of the few rye bagels. Mick understood what it meant to have his mojo interrupted so he often played offensive line to protect the headspace Duke liked to fall into when he got his hands on any machine.
Mick had a large whiteboard calendar he rolled over, along with the laptop and the ever-present notepad he kept in his back pocket, and they had some breakfast and coffee while going over the schedule for the next week.
“We probably should have included Carmella in this meeting,” Mick said. “I’ll get with her soon to see what her preference is. I think it’s good for her to sit in a few times at least to get a feel for how we work.”
All the guys had been thrilled that Carmella accepted the job, especially knowing she did the books and managed the office for her uncle’s business for years.
Kismet, Duke thought.
“Makes sense. Did you crash here in your office or did you manage to make it home?” Duke asked Asa, who’d still been there when he’d finally left.
Asa rolled his head on his shoulders, a few cracks in his spine as he did. “I slept next to my woman. I’m getting too old for sleeping on couches. And I’m really too old to pretend I’m not way more comfortable at home with PJ.”
Eight months after Duke’s closest friend had moved in with his girlfriend PJ, there were still brawls and races, and plenty of working until all hours, but the heart of Asa’s life had settled and it looked damned good on him.
Duke was happy with his own life, but he had to admit sometimes he felt a twinge of yearning when he saw Asa and PJ together. Their connection was so clear, that sense of partnership so tangible it made Duke begin to think being with someone for the long haul was not only possible, but something he might want too.
“I’m going to get to it,” Duke said, standing and gathering his stuff, his head already in the hybrid 1934 Ford at his workstation.
Duke and machines had a thing. A hot, steamy affair. He touched them and they obeyed. As it should be. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t fix things, but he did recall the moment he understood it was more than a thing he did out of necessity but something he did because he loved it.
Which was a good thing because the Ford was pretty much a rebuild. The parts had taken forever to drum up and even then they had to machine a lot of their own stuff and repurpose a different Ford engine when the one it came with nearly blew up.
That’s when Duke had taken over the project. The guys they employed at Twisted Steel were all great. Skilled in their trades and consistently turned out fantastic work.
But this persnickety ’34 wasn’t going to submit to anyone but Duke. So, Mick kept people away from Duke, enabling a mind-set Asa referred to as “the machine whisperer.”
There was no need to hammer home who was boss. No, Duke was a chill dude for a reason. Machines didn’t give a damn how much you needed them to work. They didn’t worry about breaking down. Moods were irrelevant to whatever Duke wanted to fix so he always figured he might as well keep his act together instead of losing his shit.
Instead, they responded to patience and determination.
A little bit of magic, some luck, lots of skill, and endless patience and the ’34’s engine had a rumbling growl. And when they finished up, the car would be one of their best builds yet, bringing them enough cash—and attention as the customer was a car enthusiast with connections at several magazines—to continue to make their mark as masters of their craft.
Asa stopped by, interrupting Duke what turned out to be two hours later. “Carmella just arrived. Let’s not scare her away with our bad manners the first day.”
“Especially as I pretty much ambushed her when I made the job offer.”
Twisted Steel had been in a bind and Duke was not even the tiniest bit embarrassed at how fast he took it up as a chance to be around her more.
She walked in, impressed by the place immediately. Sure it was a shop; she’d been in them on a regular basis pretty much her entire life so there was always a sense of homecoming. But some shops were shitholes. Most were in the middle somewhere.
Twisted Steel, though, was special.
It was clear they took pride in what they did and the product they created.
“Morning, Carmella.”
Hello, tall, dark, and handsome. Hazel eyes took her in. Long, dark hair was tied back to expose one hell of a face. Tawny skin with ink peeking out here and there. He wiped his hands on a cleanup rag.
Asa Barrons. The other owner of Twisted Steel. He held out a hand and drew it back. “Sorry, I was just dealing with a funky carb. Let’s just pretend I shook your hand and then I won’t get you dirty.”
Too bad. She bet he could get a girl really, really dirty. Carmella knew PJ Colman, Asa’s girlfriend. PJ looked really happy every time Carmella saw her since getting together with Asa.
Instead of saying it and getting fired her first five minutes on the job, she smiled. “Hi there, Asa.”
“We’re glad to have you here. Let me take you to the office so you can meet Lottie.”
She followed him back to the administrative area that overlooked the work floor via a wall of glass. A petite woman with thick-rimmed glasses looked up.
“Lottie, this is Carmella, she’ll be taking over for you.”
Lottie waved as she came over and pulled Carmella into an unexpected hug. “Hi! Come on over and put your bag away. Asa, get back to work. I’ll get Carmella started after some coffee and a tour. Don’t worry, I won’t scare her off.”
“Okay then. Again, welcome to Twisted Steel, Carmella.”
Asa left and Lottie snorted. “They’re nice guys to work for. I’m bummed to be leaving.” And then she pretty much told Carmella her entire life story as she showed her where to stow her coat and other stuff.
“This’ll be your desk unless you want the other one. They, the guys I mean, use whichever desk you won’t be using a few times a day. I like this one because that one is right under the vent so it’s freezing in the summer and hot in the winter. Plus from here you can keep an eye on the floor where everyone works and the front door too. We don’t get much street traffic. They do have open hours for the showroom but there’s a receptionist over there so you don’t have to deal with any of that stuff. They only see clients by appointment. Asa and Duke have offices just through here.” Lottie indicated two side-by-side offices. “They see clients for consults usually over in the showroom, though.”
Sweet baby Jesus, how did this girl even breathe around all those words? Lottie was like a hummingbird, flitting all around, talking at hyper speed.
“Let’s go out and meet everyone. They’re finishing a job right now so I’ll warn you they might be short and a little punchy. They’ll deliver tomorrow and then there’ll be a huge feast here.” Lottie paused and looked Carmella over. “Good, you’re not wearing heels. I tried that when I first started. You’ll find yourself running around too much for heels.”
Ha. Heels in a shop? Not likely. She liked not breaking her bones too much for that.
She followed Lottie out but Duke was already approaching, smiling. “You’re here. Good. Come on so I can introduce you around.” He put his hand at her elbow and drew her away from Lottie, who didn’t even stop chattering for half a beat.
Despite Lottie’s warning, no one was anything less than friendly and welcoming to her.
Twisted Steel had a great crew. The Ford they were finishing up was stunning work. She walked around it, pausing here and there to appreciate the craftsmanship on every level.
“This is sweet,” Carmella said, meaning it.
Duke grinned. “I can’t lie, it’s fucking gorgeous. I’m glad it turned out so well, but damn, I’ll be sorry I can’t keep her.” He polished up the chrome of a side mirror.
He charmed her, this man who looked at his work through the eyes of a little boy.
He straightened, looking all around her at floor level. “Hey, where’s Ginger?”
“She’s at home. First day at a new job so I figured I’d bring her in next week. Just the mornings probably. She’s too social and would be in everything if I had her here all the time.”
“Well, it’s up to you, but she’s welcome.”
Carmella thanked him again and got back to work.
She spent the afternoon getting a quick and dirty education on how Twisted Steel liked its books handled. Carmella figured once Lottie was gone, she could apply some discipline and things would be a lot smoother. The other woman was sweet and friendly, but it appeared there was a lot of pestering of the crew over things like time sheets and invoicing.
Carmella liked to run a very tight front office so she’d have to see just how much change the folks at Twisted Steel would tolerate.
At quitting time, Lottie patted Carmella’s hand. “It’s time to clock out. You can work pretty much your own hours. I do eight to five but you can do nine to six or whatever. They’re here late all the time but there’s stuff you need to do during regular business hours. I’m sure you’ll get it all. It’s not like you’re new to this or anything. I’ll see you in the morning. I need to go home and help pack. John, that’s my husband, he says to thank you for jumping in so fast to help.” She smiled brightly up at Carmella. “We’ll go through payroll together first thing. Friday is doughnuts and bagels in the morning and they’re delivering that ’thirty-four so there’ll be more food after that too.”
Carmella asked her question quickly while Lottie appeared to be breathing instead of speaking. “Do I need to pick them up?”
“Nope. They’ll be delivered here first thing. Duke takes care of all that. Just come hungry.”
As Lottie and Carmella started to leave, Duke looked up from his work and jogged over to the doors. “Hey, how was your first day?”
Lottie answered, “She’s a natural. She’s gonna be great though I do hope you guys miss me at least a little.”
Duke put his arm around Lottie’s shoulder. “Of course we’ll miss you. It’ll probably be way quieter around here, that’s for sure.” He winked and Lottie laughed.
“See you in the morning.” Lottie scampered out and Carmella let out a long breath.
Duke laughed. “Yeah, she’s got a lot of energy. Sort of a tiny female Tigger someti. . .
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