Forty-five minutes later, some of the boys were in. I could hear them and a few had been in for coffee and a donut. I was sitting behind the desk, sipping coffee, staring at an order for parts I was clicking into the computer, no part I knew what the hell it was and the notes I was using that were scribbled on a scrap of paper looked like Sanskrit, when the door that led into the garages opened.

My eyes slid to it as my mouth started to form a smile for who I thought would be one of the mechanics when Tack walked in.

My smile froze. Then my eyes went back to the computer screen.

I tried to pretend he wasn’t there but I failed at pretending. I knew exactly when his body stopped at the other side of my desk even though I was studiously avoiding looking at it.

“Thought I told you ‘bout those clothes, Red,” he growled.

I didn’t pry my eyes away from the computer screen, took a sip from my coffee and kept clicking the mouse.

“You don’t have an Employee Handbook,” I informed the computer screen.

“Say again?” he demanded.

My eyes slid to the side and up.

Damn, he was gorgeous. Another white t-shirt, skintight across the wall of his chest, broad shoulders and lean abs, this tee stained with grease. His hands were also stained with grease even though he was carrying a grease-stained cloth. He’d obviously wiped them and, from the look of it, so had every other mechanic, all of them about ten thousand times.

I made a note to self to look into laundering the guys’ grease rags as I repeated, “You don’t have an Employee Handbook.”

“So?” Tack asked, his hands going to his faded jeans-clad hips, the cloth dangling from one.

“So, you don’t have an official dress code. Therefore, I can wear whatever I want. And I take this job seriously so I’m wearing serious clothes.”

And I was. Another pencil skirt, this one bone-colored. A cute little pale pink blouse with barely-there sleeves and darts up my midriff. And spike-heeled, pale pink slingbacks that I thought were awesome. So awesome, I bought the blouse, another skirt and a pair of slacks to go with them, I loved those shoes so much.

“Babe, this is a garage. You don’t wear uppity, high-class shit at a garage. You wear jeans at a garage.”

I straightened away from the computer and swiveled my chair to him, my head tipping back as I did so.

“Would you like me to draft an Employee Handbook that includes a dress code?” I asked.

“Yeah, Red, you do that,” Tack replied.

“Certainly,” I nodded. “Do you have a deadline?”

“End of business today.”

I blinked. Then I said, “That’s impossible. With everything else I need to do, that’ll take a week. Maybe two.”

“You got until the end of business. And I need those parts ordered and I wanna go over the order before you send it.”

Oh boy. Now I was beginning to panic. I was working on the order and I didn’t want to mess it up. Since I had a very loose hold on all that I was doing, I was certain I’d mess it up.

“It’ll be ready in an hour,” I told him, probably stupidly as it was highly doubtful I could learn Sanskrit in an hour and I knew for certain I couldn’t learn anything about cars and bikes in an hour.

“You don’t got an hour. I’m leavin’ in thirty minutes. You got thirty minutes,” he replied.

Damn!

“Fine,” I bit off.

He scowled at me then he turned away but stopped dead.

“Shit,” he muttered and twisted his torso to look back at me. “You bring in those donuts?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Why not is not an answer to why, Red,” Tack returned, his whole body moving now to face me again.

“The guys like donuts,” I told him.

“So?”

“So, I bought donuts for my co-workers. If you’re a nice person, it’s something you do. And I’m a nice person.”

“It’s something you do when you wanna crawl up their asses and make them like you. And it’s not something you are gonna do again, got me?”

Jeez. What was with this guy?

“I was just doing something nice,” I stated the obvious and kind of repeated myself.

“So you did it. Don’t do it again,” he returned.

“It’s donuts, Tack.”

“Don’t do it again, Red.”

I glared at him. Then I asked, “Are you this big of a jerk to just me or are you this big of a jerk to everybody?”

He shoved the rag in his back pocket and crossed his arms on his chest as he said, “Listen, darlin’, I told you I didn’t want you workin’ here. You cannot be surprised I’m gonna be an asshole to you because I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want you workin’ here.”

I stared up at him. Then I thought of the order for car and bike stuff I had no idea how to make. I knew my attempt would probably piss him off and maybe give him reason to fire me. Then I thought of the fact that I’d slept with him, I thought it was something special, something beautiful and it was most definitely not. Then I thought of the fact that he didn’t want me there so why was I so fired up to be there? I didn’t like him, not at all. He was a jerk. The fact that I slept with him mortified me. The idea of dealing with him day in and day out wasn’t something that filled me with delight. Sure, I liked some of the guys in the garage and when they came in, they gabbed like women, but I hadn’t bonded with any of them.

So what on earth was I doing?

“Fine,” I stated and looked back at the computer screen.

“What?” Tack asked.

“Fine,” I repeated to the computer screen then went on to explain to the monitor, “Eloise didn’t have enough time to teach me the ropes. I don’t know what I’m doing. You’re going to figure that out in thirty minutes. You don’t like me. I really don’t like you,” just my eyes slid to him, “so, fine. I’ll finish out the day and then you won’t see me again.”

Tack’s brows went up. “You slap me with attitude twice for this job and then you give in, easy as that?”

“I’m not going to work in a place where I can’t eat donuts,” I informed him, looked back at the computer screen and started tapping away. “You crossed the line with that one. So, yeah, easy as that.”

Then I took another sip of coffee.

“I thought you needed this job,” Tack said.

“I’ll find another job where I can wear my fabulous pink slingbacks without putting up with annoying, unnecessary, scary biker dude hassle.”

“So, you’re sayin’, you get in my face about keeping this job and then you give in ‘cause you can’t wear sex kitten shoes and eat donuts?”

My eyes moved back to him. “Yeah, handsome, that’s what I’m saying.”

He stared at me. I stared back at him. Then his face relaxed and his lips, surrounded by that kickass goatee, curled up into a sexy as all hell grin.

“Jesus, Red, tell me, when you’re such a pain in the ass, why do I seriously wanna fuck you right now?”

It felt like a strong, heavy hand pressed hard on my chest, pushing all the air out of my lungs.

“Don’t be coarse,” I snapped.

His eyebrows went up again. “Coarse?”

“Coarse, vulgar, uncouth… rude,” I explained.

His sexy grin turned into an even sexier smile. “Only way I can be, darlin’, ‘cause all that’s me.”

“Well, good. Another reason for me to quit.”

“You’re not quittin’,” he declared and it was my turn for my eyebrows to go up.

“Pardon?”

“You’re not quittin’,” he repeated.

That hand at my chest pressed deeper.

“I thought you didn’t want me working here.”

He jerked his chin up. “Changed my mind, babe.”

“You changed your mind?” I asked.

“Yeah, and I changed my mind about your clothes and the donuts too. Bring whatever you want for the boys. Wear whatever you want. Especially those tight skirts that remind me how great your ass feels and those sex kitten shoes that make me want to feel their heels digging in my back.”

Ohmigod! Could he be more of a jerk?

“You can’t talk to me like that,” I informed him bitingly.

“I can’t?” he asked.

“No. It’s sexual harassment.”

He smiled again. “Darlin’, don’t think I have to remind you that you took a job, you knew I was your boss, you came to what amounts to a company party and then you fucked my brains out. I didn’t harass you. You walked with me straight to my bed and you participated fully in everything we did in that bed. You could try but you’d have a hard fuckin’ time convincin’ anyone I’m harassin’ you.”

This was, unfortunately, true.

“I’m quitting,” I announced firmly.

“So quit,” he returned. “I can’t chain you to that chair. It isn’t me who’s gotta look in the mirror in the mornin’ and know I’m a coward.”

My body jolted straight in my chair.

“What?” I snapped.

“Babe, you took this job knowin’ it’d be a challenge and you fought for it knowin’ how that challenge changed. Now, two days in, your first head-to-head with me, you’re givin’ up. That’s bullshit and it’s weak. That’s the way a coward would act. You give in, you gotta look in the mirror and know that shit. I don’t. So you wanna quit, quit. That shit ain’t on me, it’s on you. You can live with that…” he trailed off and shrugged.

“So you wanted me to go, and I’m going, now you’re trying to goad me into staying?” I asked with easy to read disbelief.

“I’m tellin’ you the way it is. You’re sittin’ on your sweet ass in that sweet skirt knowin’ you’re gonna give in eventually and warm my bed. This isn’t about donuts, Red, it’s about you bein’ weak. So don’t try to bullshit me because I know your play and I’m callin’ you on it.”