A Maverick's Christmas Homecoming. Teresa Southwick
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her keys when her hand was shaking too badly to fit it in the lock. When she was in the driver’s seat, she managed to get the key in the ignition and turn it. There was a clicking noise but the engine didn’t turn over.
Shane met her gaze. “Did you forget to say your prayer this morning?”
“That’s not the problem. This clunker is officially beyond the power of prayer. It’s dead.”
Chapter Four
Trouble wasn’t a four-letter word but it should be when talking about her car, Gianna thought. On top of that, she was freezing. Rolling around in the snow with Shane had seemed like a good idea at the time, but not so much now.
He leaned into the open door and met her gaze. “I think the battery’s dead.”
“Of course it is because that’s just how I roll—or in this case, don’t roll. And dead is good.”
“How do you figure?”
“It won’t feel a thing when I beat it with a baseball bat.”
“That won’t help the situation.”
“Says who? Hitting something would make me feel a lot better.” She got out of the car, shivering when the cold air wrapped around her, then dug in her purse for her cell. “It’s late. There’s no way I can deal with this now. No garage will be open, so I’ll call a cab to take me home.”
He put a hand on her arm. “Not while I’m around.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
If she’d taken him up on the offer to spend the night it would be very convenient, but she was pretty sure sleeping wasn’t on his mind when he’d offered. It’s not that she wasn’t interested in sex, but this was too soon.
“I’m happy to help you out, Gianna. And I won’t take no for an answer.” He plucked his cell phone from the case on his belt, pushed some buttons and hit Send. A moment later he said, “Rob? Shane Roarke. Can you do me a favor? Bring my car down to the restaurant, the parking lot out back.” Rob said something that made Shane grin. “Yes, a very nice Christmas bonus. Happy holidays.” He put the phone back in the case. “The car will be here in a few minutes.”
Gianna stared at him. “It must be amazing to be you.”
“And who am I?” The words were meant to be glib and lighthearted but a slight tension in his voice made him sound a little lost.
Shane Roarke, celebrity chef and wealthy eligible bachelor? Lost? That was just nuts. She must have hit her head when they were wrestling in the snow. Or her brain was frozen. He was rich, famous, handsome. Women threw themselves at him. If this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up. And he was driving her home.
To her minuscule apartment above Real Vintage Cowboy. Yikes.
After seeing his place she was a little embarrassed to bring him inside hers. But that was just silly. After he pulled into the parking lot behind the store she’d just hop out and say thanks. There was no reason for him to know that her apartment was so small she could stand in the living room with a feather duster, turn once in a circle, and the place would be clean.
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