A Soldier's Promise. Cynthia Thomason
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leaving very little work to take home, which suited her just fine. She liked devoting her off-hours to her own pleasures.
“I’ll just keep you company until the mechanic arrives,” Diana said. “Both the men in my life will be occupied with football practice until at least six.”
“Don’t be silly. Go home and wait for your husband and son. Why should both of us melt out here?”
“Maybe this is your guy,” Diana said as a blue pickup truck sped into the lot. A magnetic sign on the door indicated it had come from Alvin’s. The driver jolted to a stop a few feet from Brenna’s car.
“The cavalry has definitely arrived,” Diana said. “I might as well stay until we know he can get your car started.”
“Thanks.”
“By the way, where are you going tonight?”
“The Riverview Tavern,” Brenna said. “You’re welcome to come...”
She never finished her invitation because the driver of the truck stepped out and walked over to them. Brenna did a double take. She couldn’t remember this man working at Alvin’s. He was tall with a muscular build that was obvious even under his beige mechanic’s uniform. What hair Brenna could see peeking out of a ball cap was dark and wavy. He wasn’t smiling. Not surprising in this heat.
“I hope you’re looking for me,” Brenna said.
He pulled a work order out of a breast pocket embroidered with the name Mike and Alvin’s Garage in blue letters. “I am if you’re Brenna Sullivan.”
“Yep. And what took you so...”
“This is your silver Mazda?”
Enough small talk apparently. “Yes, it is.”
He stuffed the work order back in his pocket. “You said it wouldn’t start?”
“That’s right. I hope it’s something minor and you don’t have to have it towed.”
“’Scuse me.”
She stepped aside. He sat in the driver’s seat and turned her key in the ignition. Nothing. Not even the clicks she had heard earlier.
Brenna cringed. She was thankful Diana hadn’t left yet. She might need a ride after all.
Diana spoke in Brenna’s ear. “Have you ever seen this guy before?”
“No.” Even if this man were just an Alvin’s employee, she would have remembered him. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. It’s just interesting. He could be our first new man in town in a long time. Maybe he’s single and you and he...”
Brenna frowned at her friend’s blatantly coy grin. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not looking and you know it. And if I were, I wouldn’t be scouring Alvin’s Garage for a date.”
The man got out of the car and opened the hood. He next opened the hood on his truck and finally removed some battery cables from a box in the cargo area.
“What are you doing?” she asked him.
“Charging your battery.”
“Oh.” She watched his practiced, abbreviated movements. He didn’t waste time or effort. He appeared to know what he was doing.
Diana nudged her. “He’s good-looking, don’t you think?” she whispered.
“Stop it.” But the comment did make her study his face again.
Though he remained basically expressionless, his features demanded her attention. Serious to a fault. Yet fine lines around his eyes and mouth indicated he’d done his share of smiling, or maybe frowning. And his eyes. Now that she really looked, she found herself staring into them. Very dark, intense. And much too thoughtful for a guy who spent his time staring at spark plugs. Or did cars even have spark plugs these days? Brenna recalled reading that everything in cars was digital now.
After a few minutes, he disconnected the cables, got back in her car, fiddled around with knobs on the dashboard and started the engine. The Mazda purred like the sleek kitten it was. He got out, took the work order from his pocket again and wrote some numbers down.
“That’ll be thirty-five dollars,” he said.
“What did you do?” she asked. “I didn’t see you fix anything.”
“Nothing needed fixing.” He covered his mouth with his hand.
Brenna stared at Diana. She mouthed the words I think he’s laughing at me.
Diana shrugged. “Appears so.”
“What’s so funny—” she pointed to his pocket embroidery “—Mike?”
“Women, I guess.”
“What? That’s just demeaning....”
He readjusted the seriousness to his face. “The problem with your car was what we call a parasitic drain.”
“And what exactly would I call it?” Brenna asked.
“Probably a dead battery.”
“And why did it die?”
“It was raining this morning. Did you have your lights on?”
“Of course. It’s the law. Why do you...” She realized where he was going with the discussion. “I must’ve left them on when I got to school,” she admitted.
“Not only that, you left your satellite radio running all day. Between the two the battery was drained.”
Diana snickered. Brenna ignored her.
“I know I should have turned the lights off,” she said. “But I wasn’t aware that the radio could drain the battery.”
“It wouldn’t by itself.” He pushed his cap up, releasing strands of dark hair onto his forehead. “Did you ever read the owner’s manual on this car? It would tell you stuff like that.”
“Of course I did.” She paused as he narrowed his eyes at her.
Diana grinned. “She read the part about how to operate the moonroof.”
Brenna glared at her.
“Even though you only needed a jump, I have to bill you for a service call.” His lips twitched as he handed her the bill. “A check will be fine. Alvin knows you.”
That last part sounded like another dig, as if she was so inept she handed out thirty-five dollars on a daily basis. For heaven’s sake. She wasn’t the only woman who depended on a mechanic.
She scrounged through her purse a second time and pulled out her wallet. “I assume you’ll take paper money,” she said, handing him three tens and a five.
“Never had a problem with cash,” he said, tucking the bills into his pocket. He nodded at both women. “I’ll be going, then.”
He started to get in his truck, but Diana stopped him. “Excuse me, Mike, but are you new to this part of Georgia?”
Brenna turned to give her friend another pointed stare.
“Been here a couple of months,” he said, one foot in the truck.
“Oh. How do you like it?”
“Okay.”
“Do you live in town?”
“About three miles out.”
He got in the truck, but apparently Diana wasn’t done grilling him. “Do you have family, Mike?” she asked.
He squinted into her face. Was he offended at the question?
“I don’t mean to be nosy,” Diana said.
Brenna huffed.