Love, Diamonds, and Spades (Cactus Creek #2)(13)

“What the hell are you doing to my car? And who in the world is that?” Quinn shoved the trash bag at Rylan and peered under the car at the smiling mechanic.

“Hey there,” called out a sunny, feminine voice, still buried under the car. “I’m Sienna, a friend of Rylan’s.” A dainty, grease-covered hand popped out from right behind the tire and waved. “Just doing a quick oil change and tune-up. Won’t be able to get to your brakes today without all my tools but I can do it tomorrow if you want.”

Rylan piped in then. “Sounds good. Or, I can see if Lia has some time to go grab the rest of your tools from your place. Hang on a sec.”

He was already dialing a number on his cellphone, as if Quinn’s gaping glare wasn’t demanding an explanation ten seconds ago.

“Lia?” Smiling at his phone, he nodded before tipping his head back and chortling heartily. “Tell Gabe he deserved it, and I’m expecting him not to welch on the bet.”

Yet another reference to a bet. This just got better and better.

“But that’s not why I’m calling. I’m sure you’ve been torturing your brother plenty enough for the two of us.” He headed over to a big white vehicle that looked to be a custom made lovechild between a minivan and a truck with a big mobile mechanic logo on the side of it. “Do you think you could swing by Sienna’s place for a few tools?”

“Ry, it’s not my tools,” called out Sienna, sounding even more muffled than before. “And it’s not at home. I left most of my stuff with the kids yesterday so Lia would have to go to school. Does Max still have her car?”

Rylan nodded at the reply coming from the phone. “Okay, babe, I understand. No worries. Thanks though.” More nodding. “Everything going okay at the shop? You’re not transporting guns on your bike again are you?”

Wait, what?

Quinn stared at Rylan who had his index finger held up, silently telling her he’d explain in a bit.

“Next time, take my truck,” he scolded big brotheringly.

“Or mine!” shouted Sienna.

A few more nods and he clicked off. “Lia’s got an auction this afternoon so she can’t make it to the high school and back in time.” Thumping his hand on the side of Quinn’s car, he asked, “So are you free tomorrow to do the brakes? Or do you want to work on Coop’s tryke first”

“Hold on just a minute here!” Quinn nearly shouted. The alternate reality broadway show before her had now somehow taken on closed captioned subtitles in a different language.

She stomped over to Rylan. “Why is this woman working on my car? How did she even get the hood up without my key? What are you two planning to do to Coop’s tricycle? And why is the bouncer at Ocotillos transporting guns on her bike?”

Truth be told, she really wanted the answer to the last question first.

“I’m cashing in on some mechanic work that I won in my fantasy football league with Sienna,” he replied, tackling her questions in order. “We didn’t need your key because Sienna has never met a car she can’t break into. Luke and I talked about tricking out Cooper’s tricycle a bit, and Sienna had a bunch of ideas. And finally—you mob show junkie—Lia owns the antique arms shop down the block, remember? She usually transports things in her car but her brother Max had to borrow it for a few days so she only has her bike. Whenever I see her transporting gun cases, it takes another year off my life.”

Aw, that was sweet. His protectiveness really was one of his sexiest qualities.

But back to all the anger. “Rylan, you can’t just have random folks work on my car without my permission.” She ducked her head back under the car. “No offense.”

“None taken,” wafted out the amused reply.

Rylan leaned against the weird white truck and said matter-of-factly, “I heard your car sputtering the other day so I called Sienna to come check it out. I told you, she owed me some mechanical work at the end of our last fantasy football season. But since your car clearly needed more than mine, I decided to cash in my winnings for your car instead.”

“Who do you think you are? Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“Would you have let me get your car fixed?”

“No.”

His silent look said, ‘well, then’ while his mouth dug him about a foot deeper. “Besides, you weren’t supposed to find out. If not for you having to throw out this extremely heavy bag of trash,” he lifted up the trash bag she’d shoved in his arms, eyes twinkling, “you wouldn’t even have known Sienna was here…well, aside from the whole your car no longer weeping every time you make it go over thirty-five miles an hour, of course.”

“My car is not that bad! And are you serious with that defense? I wasn’t supposed to know about it so that makes it okay? You can’t go around just…” She clamped her mouth shut, realizing how silly the rest of her sentence would sound.

“Doing secret good deeds?” he supplied dryly, a small grin lifting up a corner of that no-good, too-sexy-for-his-own-good mouth. “Saving you from an accident?”

Of all the sanctimonious— “No one asked you to be my keeper,” she growled. “You have no right railroading into my life like this.”

“I do when the public’s safety is involved.” He crossed his arms and stared her down, daring her to argue that logic.