Hope Breaks: A New Adult Romantic Comedy (2 page)

Chapter 2

M
Y CAR WASN’T THE newest model.  It ran well, it always started, and it got me from point A to point B and then home again.  But its air-conditioning was anemic at best, and since I lived a mere six miles from the closest Wal-Mart, it hadn’t even started blowing cold air yet.

I stepped out of my car, sweaty and with an even worse headache than I’d started out with.  I was tempted to get back in the car and go to a bar.  At least then I’d be in air-conditioning, and a few drinks might make my aching head go numb.

Of course, it might just make my headache worse.

Besides
I hated cigarette smoke, so walking into a bar wouldn’t be a good idea.

So I kept my heading and walked into the retail giant.

At first their air-conditioning seemed heavenly, but that was just the blower stationed over the front sliding glass doors.  Five paces in it became abundantly apparent that their air-conditioning was on the fritz. 

Good lord, could this day get any worse?

As if on cue, the theft deterrent scanners went off like the death screams of Valkyries, and shot directly into my brain.  I stumbled and almost got myself mowed down by a husband/wife team racing handicapped motorized scooters back towards the dairy department.

Guess there was a sale on Activia.

I went to the left and headed back toward the pharmacy department.  The glare from the cheesy jewelry counter made my headache flare even hotter, so I swerved into the other lane and quickened my pace toward the painkiller aisle.

That’s when I started to hear the clanking.  It was loud, and getting more earsplitting by the second.  I looked behind me and vaguely made out a
Wal-Mart employee pulling freight behind him with one of those pallet jack thingies.

I held my head as it passed me by, clanging and thundering as it
went. But then my impending migraine just evaporated.  The guy pulling the freight was to die for: tall, broad shouldered, tight of waist, with rumpled chestnut brown hair, and youthfully glowing skin.

I passed up the painkiller aisle and picked up my pace, trying to catch up with the young stud with the freight jack.

Luckily, he slowed down around sporting goods and started maneuvering the shrink-wrapped skid of freight into the middle of the aisle.  So I got a very, very good look at him as he lowered the pallet of freight and then pulled the pallet jack from underneath.

His face was slightly angular, which was fantastic—I’d had too many pretty boys pose in front of my camera with the same all American bone structure.

Maybe that was the problem.  Too shallow a gene pool!

I noted that he had a good chest, great arms, and his ass was bubble-licious.

He turned and caught me checking him out—
how embarrassing.
  I was tempted to just turn and run, but I had a deadline, and the fresh face and body I was looking for was staring me right in the eye.

And those eyes...
lovely and as pale blue as a winter sky.

I took a deep breath and walked over to him, ready to coax and grovel to get him to take his shirt off and pose for some pictures—which reminded me I needed a girl too.

I wondered if they had any pretty girls lurking somewhere in the bowels of the store.

I took a breath to speak, but he cut across me.

“Look lady,” he said, and I saw the name Drew unevenly pasted with blue stickers on the nametag on his chest.  “I’m not interested.”

My head snapped back a little, like I’d been slapped in the face.  “What?”

He took an irritated breath and looked around to make sure no one was listening. 

“I know we’re not supposed to be rude to the customers, but a guy can take only so much.”

“I haven’t the—”

“I get it, I really do,”
he interrupted.  “Between that
Shades of Grey
crap and that
Magic Mike
movie, hormones are out of control in the female population.  I wrote a paper on it for Sociology last semester.”

“I’m not—”

“And I’m neither into S&M or a male stripper.  And I’m not into cougars… no offense.”

Cougar?  I was only
twenty-six.

I clapped my hands in front of his face, and he suddenly jerked and fell quiet.

“Just stop talking, okay?”

“Okay…” he mumbled.

I dug in my purse and found some of the business cards I used to hand out at weddings and birthday parties, and tacked to bulletin boards from Dallas to Fort Worth.  I pulled one out and handed it to the suddenly puppy eyed Drew.

“I’m a photographer.  Mostly covers for romance novels now-a-days.  And I desperately need some models.”

“Models?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I’ve got a deadline, a nervous client that keeps my bills paid, and since it’s summer I can’t find anyone through the agency I usually go through.”

He looked dubious.

“Everyone went home for summer break.”

“Oh,” he said, and then looked down at my card.  “It says you do weddings and birthdays.”

“They’re old cards.  I haven’t…” I stopped and shook my head.  “We’re getting off subject.  I need some hot, fresh faces, between…” I looked him up and down.  “Between your age and
twenty-five.  You’d do great for what I need right now, but if you have any friends that fit the bill, I could use them later on, probably soon.”

He shook his head.  “You’re serious?”

I leaned up against a display of Styrofoam bull’s eye barrels and sighed.  “As a heart attack.”

Drew licked his full, pouty lips, looking nervous.  “I wouldn’t have to pose naked, would I?”

I shook my head and was about to speak when he started interrupting me again.

“Because my mom would kill me if—”

I cut him off this time.  “You’d just have to take off your shirt, which I imagine happens often enough already.”

“Huh?”

I closed my eyes before they rolled back sarcastically in my skull.  Why else would a guy workout as much as this guy looked to, if it wasn’t to look good when he took his shirt off?

“Just the shirt, I promise.  And I can pay you two hundred a shoot.”

That made Drew’s eyes brighten like sapphires on QVC.  “Two hundred dollars, just for taking off my shirt?”

I shrugged.  “You’ll have to pose too.  And pose with the girl I find to do the shoot with you.”

Drew’s eyes darkened, and his face went expressionless.  “That will be a problem.  I’ve got a girlfriend and she wouldn’t like me posing with another girl.”

Shiiit…this was just getting complicated as hell.

Then inspiration raised her manipulative head.  “Is she cute?”

Drew snorted.  “Of course.”

“You got a picture of her in your wallet?”

He looked at me like I was some prehistoric fossil.  “No…
but I’ve got some on my phone.”

“Can I see them?”

Drew looked around nervously again.  “We’re not supposed to use our phones on the sales floor.”

“If anyone asks,” I said, winking, “you were showing me that…
Kmart had a much higher price on…” I looked around and settled on what I was leaning against.  “Target barrels.”

Drew smiled wickedly.  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
He pulled his smart phone from the back pocket of his jeans and started scrolling through pics.  I saw his face blush, so I knew there were some naughty pics intermixed with the regular ones.  Finally, he turned the phone so I could take a look at his girlfriend.

Pretty, very pretty.  With dark blond hair and blue eyes that were about three shades darker than Drew’s. 

As a bonus, she had dimples.  Dimples always looked good on film.

He showed me three more pictures.  In one she was dressed to kill in a sexy little black dress, in another she was leaning up against a big red truck, her tight fitting flannel shirt tied up over her mid-drift.  She had a darling figure.  Not too skinny, but not too curvy either.

The last one was black and white, and was of the two of them in an embrace sitting on some steps.  They looked good together.  Really good.  And there was already that sense of intimacy, even just sitting there together.

“I’ll pay her two hundred too.”

“Really?”  I could see the wheels and cogs in his head spinning.  Then his mouth went firm with suspicion again.  “She wouldn’t have to be shirtless, too?”

No time to be squeamish.  “For most of the pics, no.  But I’d probably want one where we see her bare back.  But nothing from the front.”

He seemed to ponder this, and then he opened his mouth… but nothing came out.

I waited, but started to feel my headache coming back.  “What?”

He swallowed.  “I’ll have to ask her.”

I smiled.  “Yeah, that would be a good idea.”

Drew looked at my business card again, and then slipped it into the chest pocket of his t-shirt.  “I’ll call her on my break.  Can I call you a little after that?”

“That would be great.”

With that the handsome, well-built young man turned and started pulling the freight jack behind him again.  The damn thing made even more noise when it was empty.

So I headed for the painkiller aisle again.

Chapter 3

C
LICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.  That was the only sound my car made when I tried to start it in the Wal-Mart parking lot.

Shit, shit, shiiit!

I rested my head against the steering wheel and breathed.  Car breaks down?  Just add it to all the other crap on your agenda.  But it was something that needed to be dealt with immediately.  I needed my car.

So I called AAA.  About time I got some use out of my AAA Plus card.  I was always paying for it, and never actually got to use it.

Of course, if I ever went somewhere further away than my local Wal-Mart, I might get a chance to use it.

It took about five minutes to get through to the AAA dispatch, and then another forty-five to wait for the driver to show up.  To my surprise he was young and good looking, and had a swagger that I only attributed to cowboys.  But this being Texas, he
very well could have been a cowboy.

As I watched him take my car keys and slide into the driver’s seat, I realized that I might not need greasy Vincent at the modeling agency any longer.  I could just take a ride down to
Wal-Mart and hunt down my own pretty, fresh faces.

I mean, look at this guy’s shoulders.  And he had the sweetest face.  That was until he smiled.  Then his face turned hungry like a wolf. 

The Big Bad Wolf!

Inwardly
, I twirled and danced around.  I had a cover coming up that was for an erotic retelling of Little Red Riding Hood.  This guy would be perfect!

Click, click, click, click. 
The kid looked out the car window and said, “Bad starter.”

“Really?  Is that hard to fix?”

“Nah.  Where do you want me to tow this thing to?”

Oh…
I hadn’t had anything go wrong with a car in years.  I didn’t know where I should take it. 

I guess my confusion showed, because the kid, who I now could see had “Billy” stenciled onto his work shirt, said, “Tice’s does good work.  So does Busy Bee.  And Jake—” He pointed over to the side of the
Wal-Mart.  “If he’s working today, he can fix pretty much anything.”

“Really, I can just have it done here?”  I was amazed. 
Wal-Mart really did have everything:  Tylenol, hot young studs, and even mechanics to change your starter.

“
If
he’s working.”  He pulled out a cell phone and hit a speed dial.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah… transfer me to TLE.”  There was a pause, and then Billy smiled, broad and toothpaste commercial handsome and bright.  “Hey Georgia, it’s Billy from… yeah, me.  I was wondering if Jake was working today.  I’ve got a broke starter here in your parking lot.”

He looked at me and gave me a wolfish smile and a thumbs up.  “Great.  I’ll tow the piece of…
I mean, the car in.  Then maybe I can talk you into getting some ribs later.”  He blushed, and then he sighed and rolled his eyes. 

“I know he’s my best friend, but I just can’t stop thinking about you.”  He stopped and looked up at me, embarrassed.  “See you in a few.”  And he hung up.

“Jessie’s girl?” I asked.

He just stared at me for a minute. 

Way
before his time…

“It’s a song…
an old one, about a guy that’s in love with his best friend’s girl.”

“Oh,” he said, getting that look kids get when someone older starts talking about the good-old-days.  I cringed.  I remember pulling that look in my youth…
not that I’m old or ancient or anything.  I’m only twenty-six…

Okay, to this kid I’m old…
I am ancient.

“I guess the remake would be Adam’s Girl.”

I nodded, even though I didn’t think the song would work with that name replacement.

He shook his head and smiled.  “So let’s get this…
your car into TLE.”

***

Ten minutes later my car was loaded into a work bay, and I was watching Adam’s Girl (aka Georgia, and that made me smile at the Ally McBeal reference—which I’d bet neither one of them were old enough to remember—sigh…) trying to type in my maintenance order while Billy leaned over the counter and tried to cajole her into going out with him.

The boy was shameless.  But he did wear her down enough that she said she’d meet him at a local ice cream shop to “talk.”

I handed him my card and told him that if he ever wanted to make some extra money modeling to give me a call. 

“You’re shitting me, right?”

I shook my head solemnly.  “I shoot romance novel covers.  You’d be a natural.”  I could just see the women swooning over one of his Big Bad Wolf smiles.

He shook his head, but was smiling, thinking about the prospect.  Then he leaned in and asked, “I wouldn’t have to show my
johnson, would I?”

I gulped and shook my head.  “Just have to take off your shirt.”

He hit me with that wolf smile again.  “Well, I could do that right here if you like?”

“No!” I said a little too forcefully.  “No…
that’s not necessary.  I’d rather save that for when you’re in front of the camera.’

“Okay,” he said, smiling again.  “I’ll call you then.”  And he sauntered out the door.

Georgia and I exchanged the same look. 

Men…

“Sorry about him,” she said. “He’s incorrigible.”

“He’s a horn-dog.”

“That too.”

“You’re really going to go out with him?”

She shrugged.  “I only started dating his friend three weeks ago… and already we’re to the
he’s starting to ignore
me
phase.”

I winced in empathy.

She bit her lower lip.  “It’s just… I’ve known him for years, and I used to have this big crush on him… but…”

Oh, I knew this one.  “But he never gave you a second look before you started dating his buddy.”

“Yeah,” she said and sighed.  “So I don’t know if he really likes me, or he’s just…”

“Coveting his neighbor’s ass?”

Her eyebrows shot up.  “No!  Billy’s definitely not gay.” Then she started getting a confused look.  “Or did you mean he was… coveting Adam’s ass?  Because that could explain—”

I put up my hand to cut her off.  Dear lord, how was I going to explain this so she would understand?

“That would be a biblical reference,” a deep male voice said from right behind me.

I yelped and wheeled around to find a broad, blue work shirt clad chest at my eye level.  The name badge read “Jake.”

I looked up and found the most attractive man staring down at me.  Lord have mercy, he was just gorgeous.  But not like all the hot young men I’d just seemed to run into today.  No, Jake was broad and solid and hard as a crowbar.

He had deep, fathomless eyes, melted chocolate brown, and a mug not only ruggedly handsome, but with a fine dark shadow of a beard.  When he smiled, he had dimples too. 

Oh, and he looked to be about my age, if not a little older.

I gulped.  “Hi,”

“Hi yourself.”  He looked up over my head and started talking to Georgia again.  “It’s from the bible, coveting your neighbor’s ass.  And no, it doesn’t mean his actual ass.  It means a mule or donkey.”

Georgia
giggled, and Jake looked back down into my eyes.  “So let’s go take a look at your car.”