The Baby Magnet. Terry Essig
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“God, please don’t let this be somebody with a temper. The day’s not even half over and I simply cannot handle any more abuse, verbal or otherwise.”
Marie grimaced to herself as she stepped out on the heated blacktop and then concentrated on reversing her frown, doing her best to change it into an apologetic smile which she aimed in the direction of the car behind them. Her smile died before being truly born and Marie cringed at the sight of the ugly dent in the side of Jason’s victim’s car. The overall visual effect of the scene was greatly worsened by the fact that her grandfather’s rear fender was virtually embedded in the other auto’s side.
“Lord,” she moaned quietly to herself. There was a lot of damage and Marie doubted the recipient of all that damage would be willing to write it off as crash testing. The fact that his car was made of a metal that crushed easily was his problem but Marie didn’t think she should even bother bringing that up.
A man climbed out of the injured auto. A very large man, Marie couldn’t help but notice. An oversize intimidating male specimen hewn from granite by the looks of him. The sun was still on the ascendant. It had now reached a position directly behind Jason’s victim, making it impossible to distinguish facial features. Marie could, however, tell that his hair was both thick and dark. The mirrored aviator sunglasses he wore and his slightly overlong locks were paired with perfectly fitted good quality dress black, or maybe navy—it was hard to tell with the glaring nimbus behind him—pleated slacks, a white shirt that was crisp-looking even in this heat that stretched over yard-wide shoulders, and a red power tie. A modern-day pirate. Oh, God. “Jason,” she hissed. “Get out of the car and make nice to the man. Apologize. Grovel. Promise him your firstborn child. Do whatever you have to do to get us out of here alive.”
Oh, why couldn’t it have been a sweet, understanding, grandmotherly type? Somebody who’d raised children and understood what she was going through. If it had to be a guy, why couldn’t it have been somebody wimpy? Anybody other than this body-by-Schwarzenegger type with a face that looked like it would break if he attempted a smile.
Luke Deforest ground his teeth as he reached behind himself with one hand and slapped his car door shut. Damn, but he didn’t need this right now. Not that anybody ever needed a car accident, but today, when his temper was greased and he was running tight on time…Well, now was not a good choice.
Luke slammed his hood with his fist in frustration and turned away from the apprehensive duo approaching him. Get a grip, he advised himself. Accidents will happen. The kid hadn’t intentionally picked the worst day of Luke’s life to back into his three-month-old-interior-still-smelling-like-new-candy-apple-red car of his dreams—the little donkey’s heinie.
Luke’s knuckles whitened as he continued to list like a litany all the reasons he shouldn’t knock the little jerk’s head right into the middle of next week. But damn, he needed to make a good impression today. An awful thought struck and Luke ruthlessly pushed it back. Certainly the car was still driveable. Of course it was. Luke glanced down the side of his car. No, it wasn’t.
Luke took a deep breath, turned back to face the duo and pinned the driver of the offending vehicle with his gaze. Even through the glare of today’s strong sun, he looked young, Luke thought and was immediately appalled. When had teenagers started looking like such babies, he mused. Was it a sign of his own creeping dotage that had him wondering when they’d started allowing ten-year-olds to start driving?
Nah, he was only thirty-four. It wasn’t Luke getting old, it was just this child dressed in adolescent’s clothing pretending to be sixteen. No way. Luke directed himself to the woman who’d climbed out of the passenger’s side. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her yet, but she at least appeared to be of legal age. On the short side of average, she was slender and trim. Her hair glinted red in the sunlight, her skin was pale, and even from this distance he could see her eyes were blue. In fact, she bore a striking resemblance to his brother’s wife. He squinted and did a double take. Good God Almighty, it was Marie. Wasn’t it?
“Marie?” he checked.
Marie did her own double take. No. It couldn’t be. Then she sighed philosophically. Well, her life had certainly been going to hell in a handbasket of late. This would certainly be right in keeping. Somehow Jason had managed to ram her grandfather’s car right into her ex-brother-in-law. Wonderful. Wade’s brother had seemed to almost purposely avoid them after their wedding. She doubted he’d be any too happy to see her now.
“Luke?”
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you lived up in Michigan somewhere.” And if he’d only stayed there Jason wouldn’t have hit him. Jason was right, the accident wasn’t his fault. It was Luke’s. Luke didn’t belong here in Elkhart, Indiana. He belonged far, far away. The farther the better. She didn’t need any further reminders of her previous life, especially not Wade’s incredibly handsome big brother who’d always made her feel like an adolescent with a crush. Thank God no one knew about that. She’d never breathed a word to a soul. She’d met Wade first and fair was fair.
Luke nodded his head toward Jason. “He old enough to be behind the wheel?” he asked. “I’m going to be mighty upset if you’re letting him drive around without any insurance coverage,” he warned.
Marie swallowed hard. If he was trying to be intimidating, it was working. She definitely felt threatened. She hastened to reassure him. “Oh, yes, he’s old enough,” Marie said. “Fifteen and a half, as a matter of fact. Jason has a learner’s permit rather than an actual license, but he’s permitted to drive so long as there’s a licensed driver in the car with him.”
Jason, obviously insulted at this slur to his character, had already produced his permit. He reverently unfolded it and smoothed out the crease before presenting it for inspection.
“Hmm.” Luke studied it and all but grunted. “You’ve got insurance?” He pinned Jason with a laser stare.
“Sure I do,” Jason retorted, then turned to Marie questioningly. “Don’t I?”
“Absolutely,” she assured him with a nod of her head. “I took care of that before I even took you over to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles to get your permit.” She took a deep breath and approached Luke. “We’re definitely covered.” She extended her hand. After a brief pause, Luke took it. “How’s it going, Luke? It’s been a while.” Since your brother’s funeral to be exact, she silently added.
Luke’s handshake was quick and cursory, the amenities covered then forgotten. Good thing she hadn’t attempted a hug or anything else that would have really invaded his personal space. How could she have ever wanted this man? “You remember my, uh, uncle, Jason Fort. You met briefly at the wedding and again at the, um, funeral.”
Luke reluctantly nodded his head. “Jason,” he acknowledged. “First time I haven’t seen you all slicked up. Didn’t recognize you for a minute there.” Luke turned his head to glance significantly down the length of his car. “We’ve got ourselves a little problem here, Jason, old buddy,” he said as he viewed the wound in his red compact.
Jason nodded glumly. “Yes, sir.”
Luke and Jason stood there with their hands in their front pockets studying the damage with grim looks. They studied it so long, in fact, that she began to worry. Men, she’d noticed from her own relationships, tended to take damage to their automobiles as a personal affront. You’d think he’d be grateful nobody was hurt, Marie thought waspishly. But no, the way he was staring at his car’s backside, you’d think he felt its pain. “It’s not terminal, or anything,” she said. “I mean, it can be fixed. Right?” she asked a bit helplessly as she gestured to the ugly gash.
Luke grunted.
Marie took that for affirmation.
Luke never took his eyes off his scarred but still proud automobile. Finally, he drawled, “I suppose it’s fixable. It’s just not driveable in the here and now.”
“What’s