The Country Duet(6)

“Got a new name for you. Teale On the Side of the Road.” I smile at her.

“Got a new name for you, too, Mr. Fix It. Chicklets…damn you have a cute smile.”

I don’t miss the fact she’s taking in my flexed arms and stares a tick too long at my dimples.

“Ain’t nothing pretty about me, Jeff Gordon.”

“Jeff Gordon?” she asks, tilting her head to one side, wrinkling up her cute nose in disgust.

“You drove like a bat out of hell after I told you to take it easy.”

“That was me taking it easy.”

I throw my head back in laughter. It feels damn good easing some of the stress of the day away. When I look up again, Teale is heading into the shop, and that’s when I spot a “Help Wanted” sign.

“By damn,” I whisper.

This girl may have just been the perfect ending to my day in more than one way. Teale’s behind the counter in the tiny office with an older man giving her hell when I make it in the shop.

“See.” She points to me when I walk in. “Wasn’t a stranger. It was him. Hunter Something-or-other.”

I raise my hands up in innocence.

“Teale.” The guy slams the counter. “If there’s anything I’ve taught you, it’s how to change a tire and the oil in your car. You can change a damn tire faster than most men in this shop.”

“I know, Dad.” She slumps her shoulders in defeat. “He offered.”

I slowly lower my hands and step forward. “You played me?”

“You assumed,” she accuses.

“Damn kid.” Her dad shakes his head. “And let me guess, you never switched out your spare either?”

Teale begins to skirt around the question, deflecting her dad. Being the gentleman I am, I step in. “Nope, she didn’t. Damn lucky she made it back to town driving like her ass was on fire.”

Teale’s mouth drops open, and I smirk at her. It’s then I notice her eyes are endless pools of blue. Such a strange combination of hair and eye color, it's slowly dragging me into her with an invisible rope of wanting. I had my fair share of girls back in high school and even a few short-term ones here on campus, but she’s different. There’s something behind her expression and piercing eyes telling me she’s far wiser than her years.

“Traitor.” She throws a pen at me.

It sails straight for my face, but I’m faster, reaching up and snatching it before it takes out an eye.

“Quick hands,” her dad praises.

I set the pen back down on the counter. “Looking for a job, Sir. Noticed your sign in the window.”

“I’m the secretary in the joint.” Teale shrugs.

“Not wanting your job, Jeff Gordon.” I lean an elbow on the counter.

“Quit calling me that. Gordon is a damn pussy. I’m more of a Bowyer type girl.”

“Teale.” This time it’s her dad tossing a pen at her. “Clean that mouth of yours up.”

“What the hell do you expect? I was raised in a mechanic repair shop with a bunch of grease monkeys!”

“Don’t even know why I even try to reason with you.” Her dad turns his attention on me. “Got any experience behind a wrench?”

I nod. “Yes, Sir.”

“Quit with all that proper shit, Hunter. It’s weird.” Teale flops down in an office chair in the corner, kicking her tattered Chucks up on the desk littered with paperwork. “He tends to answer to Old Man, asshole, or Frank.”

I shake my head, chuckling, loving this lighter and carefree side of her. “Frank, I'm from Southern Idaho and grew up on a ranch. I have plenty of experience with a wrench, welder, and restoring engines.”

“What kind of hours are you looking for, Hunter? Can’t afford a full-time employee right now, but in need of an extra set of hands.”

“Tight ass.” Teale coughs in her hand; the words are loud and clear.

Frank glares over at his daughter, scooting his wire-rimmed glasses down his nose. “Have to be able to afford new tires for you.”

They go back and forth for a long time, and I’m starting to think the hopes of finding a job where I can get my hands dirty and add money to my bank account is a waste of time.

“Here.” Franks slams some paperwork down on the counter. “Job’s yours, just need you to fill this out.”

“Don’t we need to talk about hours and when I’m available? I’m a sophomore at the university.”

“Yep, can smell a college student a mile away. Never had one work out here, but I’ll give you a shot for helping my daughter.”

“You’re welcome,” Teale hollers from behind a magazine she’s reading.

It ain’t no glamor or fashion magazine, but a damn outdoor hunting one. This one is going to hurt I can already tell.

“Fill them out, then I’ll give you the quick tour of the garage, and we’ll discuss hours. I’m okay with working around your schedule. That’s no problem.” Frank holds his hand out to shake.

He has a firm grip. The type of handshake that’s stable and trustworthy. I notice he has the same color of eyes as his daughter’s, but that’s as far as the resemblance goes. Frank’s a brick shit house with salt and pepper gray hair and very prominent nose. I settle into the worn couch on the opposite corner of Teale. The thing has seen better days that’s for sure, but it will do.