Author: Jaci Burton

“At the gym,” Jane said with a serene smile. “And you dated him. You know what he’s like.”

“I do know what he’s like. But I didn’t have kids, and he and I are better as friends. And hey, I go to the gym. Trust me, there aren’t guys like him there.”

“So you’re saying men like Will—and I guess Luke. That’s not typical guy behavior?”

Chelsea snorted at Emma’s question. “Uh, no. Not all men are nice guys.”

No one knew that better than Emma.

Jane squeezed her hand. “Hang on to Luke, Emma. Trust me when I tell you that great guys aren’t a dime a dozen. When you find a good one, you don’t want to let him go.”

She had a lot of thinking to do.

Chapter 12

IT HAD BEEN a few days since Luke had seen Emma. He’d pulled a couple of double shifts, and he wanted to give her some time to recover. On his breaks, he’d texted her a few times to check on her knees, and she’d texted him back that she was doing fine and healing up fast. He’d been relieved to hear that. He wished he’d had time to stop by and check on her, but damn work had gotten in his way.

Plus, he’d made that whole mental promise to himself that he wouldn’t see her again. She was too hard on his—well, his everything. His libido, for one thing. He knew she wasn’t looking for a relationship, and he sure as hell wasn’t.

The problem was, he kept thinking about her. About that night they’d spent together. He wanted to be with her again. Which was a clear sign that he shouldn’t see her again. Another night together could only spell trouble.

Since this was his day off, he decided to spend it working on his truck, which needed way more maintenance than his screwed-up love life. After a punishing workout at the gym in the morning, he went home, took a shower, and headed to his friend Carter Richards’s flagship auto-repair shop, the first of the many he’d opened in his growing chain.

He didn’t expect to see Carter coming out of his office as he entered the shop.

“Surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be at one of your other shops in Tulsa.”

Carter gave him a grin. “I had some . . . personnel issues to deal with here today.”

“Fired someone, huh?”

“Yeah. And now I want some coffee. You up for it, or do you need to leave?”

“I have time. I was dropping the truck off for some diagnostic work anyway.”

“Good. I have a craving for cinnamon rolls from Bert’s.”

“Let’s go. You’ll have to drive.”

They pushed through the front door, and Carter led him to his car.

Luke arched a brow, then trailed his fingers down the clean edges of the classic ’67 Mustang Shelby. “Really?”

“Hey, I’ve always wanted one. Now I can afford it.”

Luke shook his head and climbed into the car. It smelled as sweet as it looked, and Luke was envious. “You’ve done well.”

“Thanks. I’m having fun with the car. Beats having a wife.”

“Ouch.”

“Hey, at least you got smart and got rid of her.”

Luke buckled his seat belt. “If you remember, she dumped me.”

“She was a social-climbing bitch. That’s all I remember about Becca.”

Luke laughed, but then Carter turned the key and the Shelby rumbled to life.

“This one talks back,” Luke said.

Carter grinned. “No, she doesn’t. She purrs, like every woman should.”

Luke shook his head, but couldn’t help admiring the lines of the Shelby. What he wouldn’t give to own something like this. On a cop’s salary, though, it wasn’t likely to happen.

“You could have one,” Carter said, as if he’d just read Luke’s mind.

“Not a chance.”

“Just buy a junker and restore it. I worked a lot of week-ends on this one. She wasn’t perfect when I got her, but she’s an original, and she’s beautiful.”

He swept his hand across the sleek leather seats. “Maybe. Someday.”

“What else do you have to do on your off days?”

What else, indeed?

Carter parked in front of Bert’s, and they went inside and grabbed a seat. Luke ordered coffee and, with not more than a second’s hesitation, one of those cinnamon rolls that Carter was craving.

It didn’t take them long to dive into the food, which they did pretty quietly. Even though Luke had already eaten breakfast, there was no use denying himself a roll. Freshly baked, thick, and slathered with icing. When he was full, he pushed the evidence of his gluttony to the side.

“It’s going to cost me a lot of running time to burn those calories.”

“Worth it, though,” Carter said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Yeah, you’re right. So who was the guy you had to fire?”

“One of the dudes in the body shop. His skills just weren’t up to par.”

“Bodywork is important. You can’t afford to keep someone on who isn’t good.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve gone through three guys in the body shop here in Hope in the past year. I don’t know why I can’t get a good body guy.”

“Maybe you can fill in until you find someone,” Luke teased.

“Yeah, you’re a laugh riot.”

“As I recall, it used to be your specialty. That and rebuilding engines.”

“Sure, in high school. Now I have enough to do just running the stores.”

“You don’t miss getting your hands dirty under the hood of a car?”

Carter grinned. “Who says I don’t get my hands dirty anymore?”

“That manicure and the lack of grease under your nails.”

“Manicure my ass. You’re such a dick, McCormack. I could strip down an engine before you’ve even dragged your lazy ass out of bed in the morning.”

Unfazed, Luke sipped his coffee. “So you say, rich boy. But I still say your hands are too clean to be doing the grunt work.”

Carter signaled for the waitress, who presented him with the check. “Let’s go take a look at your truck.”

Two hours later, Luke and Carter were filthy, staring under the hood of Luke’s truck.

“It’s a fuel injector problem,” Carter explained. “They all seem to be injecting fuel, but not firing properly on all cylinders. I think a couple of them are clogged. You’re getting fuel to all your cylinders, but the number three and number five are running lean, like they’re not getting as much fuel as the rest of them.”

Carter’s formerly white shirt was now covered in grease, and he seemed unconcerned about it. He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands.

Luke nodded. “I thought that might be the issue, but I didn’t have the diagnostics at home.”

“It doesn’t appear to be a problem with getting fire to the injector. The injector is either getting clogged up, or it’s just plain toast. We’ll run some cleaner through it and see if that takes care of it, but I seriously doubt it will. My suggestion is to replace these. That should solve your problem.”

“Sounds good. Try the cleaner, but if that doesn’t work, replace them.”

Carter signaled for one of his mechanics, stating instructions. The guy nodded and walked away.

“Satisfied now that I know what the hell I’m doing?” Carter asked as they both headed to the sink.

“Hell, you always knew what you were doing. I just enjoy giving you shit.”

Carter cocked a grin. “It was fun getting into an engine again. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Do I get a discount since I helped with the diagnostics?”

“No. You have to pay extra because the diagnostics came from the owner.”

“Now who’s the dick?”

Carter laughed. They headed up to his office to get a soda. Luke sat in the chair and crossed his feet at the ankle.

“So now that you know how I spend my days, tell me about your job. How’s the cop business?”

Luke shrugged. “Keeping me busy enough that I’m not bored.”

“Good enough. Hope’s not really a high-crime kind of town. You still crave the excitement of a big-city police force?”

“Kind of. But I like protecting my hometown. So I’m torn.”

“Understood. How’s the love life?”

Luke snorted. “Don’t have one. And I like it that way.”

“Word on the street is that you’re seeing Emma Burnett.”

“I’d like to know where this ‘word on the street’ shit is coming from.”

Carter smiled. “Oh, you know how it is in a small town. I get my tidbits of gossip here and there. And how is Emma?”

“Gorgeous. Hot. Skittish.”

“Not exactly your type. You much prefer them sexy, available, and not interested in commitment.”

“Well, she is sexy.”

“One out of three isn’t very good odds.”

The one annoying thing about Carter was his persistence, no matter the topic. “I’m also not dating her.”

“But you want to.”

“I don’t want to date anyone. We’re friends.”

Carter snorted. “Luke, you’re not friends with any woman.”

“That’s not true. I’m friends with a lot of women.”

“Sure you are. After you screw their brains out, they stay friendly with you. Not sure how you manage that, but you do. So is that the way it is with you and Emma? You got her into bed, and now you two are . . . friends?”

“No.”

“No, to which part? The getting-her-into-bed, or the you-two-are-friends part?”

Luke didn’t answer the question.

“Huh. Interesting.”

“You’ve got this all wrong. We really are friends. It’s just . . . complicated.”

“Definitely not your kind of woman. Or . . . exactly the kind of woman you need.”

“This coming from a man who hasn’t had a serious relationship since Emma’s little sister Molly in high school.”

A shadow crossed Carter’s face. “That was a long time ago. Molly and I were kids.”

“And I still remember how broken up you were when Molly left. You cared about her.”

“As much as an eighteen-year-old boy could care about someone. I told you. We were kids. It was young love. And it was over a long time ago.”

There was something in his voice, in the way Carter didn’t make direct eye contact with him that told Luke it had been way more than just young love between him and Molly. As a cop, Luke knew how to read body language. And when someone couldn’t look you in the eye when they were talking, that usually meant they were lying. Maybe Carter was still mixed-up over how he felt when Molly had run off. They might have been young, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. And maybe time didn’t heal everything.

Luke and Carter went way back to elementary school. They’d shared a lot of secrets and had been through a lot of shit together. They’d always been honest with each other, but if there were truths being withheld, how Luke felt about Emma was probably one of them.

Hell, even he didn’t know what was going on in his own head about Emma. How could he explain it to his best friend?

Luke stood. “I’m going to head out and let you get some work done.”

“Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“Nah. I need to walk off that cinnamon roll. I’ll hang around town for a bit and run some errands.”

Carter nodded. “We’ll give you a call when your truck is ready.”

He shook Carter’s hand. “Thanks for figuring out the problem.”

Carter grinned as they walked to the front door. “My mechanics could have done that. They’re good at their jobs.”