Chaste (McCullough Mountain) (6 page)

“So
how about that drink, Ash?”

“Oh,
I shouldn’t. I don’t really drink alcohol and I have to drive my truck home.”

The
waitress relented. “Okay, but next time you come in I’m gonna throw a little
rum in that Coke, so be prepared to hang for a while.”

Knowing
that the other bartender picked up on her not so stealthy, lurking habits,
Ashlynn probably wouldn’t return for a while, but she nodded anyway. “Deal.”
She reached in her pocket for a tip. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You
too, Ash. Don’t be a stranger.”

* * * *

Kelly’s
vision narrowed as he spotted Sue chatting it up with Ashlynn. He’d told her to
let it go, but the minx had gone ahead and made friends with the sexy little
church mouse. He studied them as he filled a few drafts.

A
soft shade of natural pink tinted Ashlynn’s cheeks and she looked uncomfortable
with whatever Sue was saying. His molars clamped down. While Sue might think
playing cupid was cute, what with the way the girl stared all starry-eyed at
him, Kelly didn’t want to worsen the situation.

A
sense of relief flooded him the moment Sue sashayed away from Ashlynn’s table.
As she returned behind the bar, he asked, “What the hell was that?”

“Just
making nice with the customers.”

“I’m
sure that’s all you were doing,” he mumbled, sliding a beer to one of the
locals and taking the ten from the counter.

“What?”
Sue asked, innocently raising her shoulder. “I was introducing myself. She’s
leaving anyway.”

“Good.”

Kelly
bagged up the garbage and headed out the back to toss it in the dumpster. The
girl didn’t even drink. O’Malley’s was the most popular watering hole for
locals in their twenties and thirties.

Week
after week Ashlynn came around to sit alone and drink soda. Her life had to be
pretty empty if that sort of isolated socialness was what she considered
entertainment. Especially when he’d never done anything to make her think he
was interested in her as more than a customer. She couldn’t be there just for
him.

As
the back door slammed he hoisted the bag of rubbish into the dumpster and
brushed off his palms. The dark lot lit with twin headlights as a truck roared
to life. He squinted at the jalopy. It was a monster of a truck, at least three
decades old.

When
his eyes adjusted he spotted the driver and paused. She
would
drive a
truck like that. Sticking to the shadows by the dumpster, he watched as she
cranked the old truck into drive and maneuvered her way through the other cars.

As
the truck rumbled past, catching the glow of the street lamp, his gaze settled
on her tiny unadorned ears peeking out beneath her choppy blonde hair. No
matter how no-frills she appeared there was something undeniably sexy about
her.

* * * *

Ashlynn
shifted the Bobcat so the pallet lined up with the bed of her truck. She’d
spent the morning scrubbing her freshly harvested potatoes and wanted to take
them over to the market before church. Not many locals shopped on Sunday in
Center County, but it was her father’s birthday and after church she planned to
make him a good, home cooked supper of his favorites followed by shortcake
garnished with strawberries off the vine.

Once
the spuds were loaded, she slammed the tailgate shut, and climbed behind the
wheel. Her house was one of the old farmhand holds she’d taken over, because a
plot of untouched land surrounded it.

Over
the years she’d converted the grounds and produced some of the best crops this
side of the Mason-Dixon Line. Center County had a finicky climate, but Ashlynn
knew the land and weather by heart. After six years, she only had one bad
harvest and that was due to an unseemly drought that hit almost the entire
northern area. She had a list of trusted suppliers she ordered organic, out of
season produce during the cooler months.

As
she barreled down the two miles of rough road into town her vehicle made an
obnoxious sputtering sound. Frowning under the glare of the early morning sun,
she checked her gages. The gas gage had stopped working long before her dad
gave her the truck, but she was always sure to fill the tank every two days.
There was no way she was running low on fuel.

With
the windows down, she sniffed and spotted smoke seeping from under the blue
hood. “Crap.”

As
soon as she arrived at the market she’d check and see what the issue was. She’d
performed a tune-up a few weeks ago and everything appeared fine, so she hoped
it was a simple fix like a loose cap.

Pulling
onto Main Street and into traffic the truck continued to wheeze. At the light
across from Neman’s Pharmacy, her engine started to whistle. That wasn’t good.
She only had a few blocks to go when the truck gurgled to a halt and the engine
died, right there, in the middle of traffic as the light turned green.

Her
fingers gripped and turned the key over in the ignition, but the truck blew a
gasket, smoke billowing from her vents. Sighing, she pulled the key, and jumped
out of the driver’s side to see what the issue was. Her hand fluttered in an
apologetic wave to the other drivers at the intersection, signaling them to go
around.

Her
boots smacked over the blacktop as she rounded the fender and popped the hood.
It lifted with a tired whine of aged metal and she cursed. The engine was
running hot.

Please,
not the transmission.

Reaching
in the back pocket of her overalls, she pulled out a pair of leather gloves and
fanned away the smoke. This wasn’t going to be an easy fix. Groaning, she
returned to the cab and searched for her phone, hoping her dad hadn’t already
left for Church.

As
she dialed the landline to the farm she waited for him to pick up. After the
seventh ring she huffed and dropped the phone into the front pocket of her
overalls and slammed the door.

Cars
continued to snake around her vehicle. Offering a rueful smile she headed
toward the town’s mechanic. Hopefully someone was there that could at least tow
her truck out of the way.

As
she briskly walked down the sidewalk toward the shops interspersed with store
top apartments, she considered how much the repair would cost. She could likely
do most of the work herself, but transmissions weren’t cheap. Sighing, she
admitted she might have to start shopping for a new vehicle.

As
she passed the mouth of a narrow alley, two doors from the mechanic’s, she
narrowly avoided smashing into the man turning the corner at a clipped pace.
Her breath caught as her gaze met crystal blue eyes in a handsome face accentuated
by the softest looking lips she’d ever seen.

Kelly.

As
he looked up from buttoning the same shirt he’d worn last night she noticed his
boots weren’t even tied. Cheap perfume mixed with his cologne, having a
repulsive effect on her senses and causing her to take a step back.

“Sorry,
didn’t mean to almost run you over there,” he said, and her lips moved as she
tried to form words. His jaw was rough with dark stubble.

“That’s…that’s
okay.”

“Ashlynn,
right?”

Over
a decade of attempting to get his attention and he wasn’t even sure of her
name? “Yeah. How are you, Kelly?” Her vocal cords trembled in his presence as
she struggled to make small talk.

“I’m
great.” Of course he was. He was leaving the bed of some random woman who
probably performed sexual acts she was too ignorant to dream of. “How are you?”

Shrugging,
she tried to act unaffected by his presence. “I’m heading down to Ernie’s. My
truck broke down on Main Street.”

His
blue eyes narrowed as he glanced over her shoulder, likely spotting the
congested intersection where she’d abandoned her vehicle. Her cheeks warmed and
she brushed a hand over her mussed hair. Why hadn’t she dressed for church
before she headed out? Ugh, she was covered in dust from the garden and her
tank top barely covered what her overalls missed.

“That’s
a big truck for a small woman.”

Her
shoulders drew back. Was that a compliment or an insult? Or neither? Perhaps
just an observation. “It’s mine,” she said stupidly.

The
side of his mouth kicked up and her heart stuttered. Holy Hannah, those lips…
“Old trucks like that are like the mullets of vehicles, all short in the front
and long in the back. Takes a confident woman to rock such a throwback.”

Forcing
her head not to shake, she laughed nervously. His presence was such a
distraction, if she didn’t focus on exactly what he was saying she’d miss his
words completely.

“You
got a truckload of stuff in the back. Where were you headin’?”

Embarrassed
for being exactly who she was—a little farmer in a redneck town—she explained,
“I have a bed full of potatoes I was dropping off at the farmers’ market.
That’s my store.” So not the type of woman he was used to.

His
blue eyes widened. “It is? I didn’t know that.”

Yup,
that was her, just another speck in the background of other people’s exciting
lives. She needed to hide. Her quota for uncomfortable situations had been met
for the week.

“Yeah,
well…if you’ll excuse me. I really need to find Ernie and ask him to move my
truck before the cops come and tow it away. I’m pretty sure it needs a new
transmission. I don’t want to have to pay if it gets impounded as well.”

Blue
highlights caught the sunlight as he tipped his head to the side. The Celtic
trinity tattoo on his neck was one of her favorites. “What makes you think it’s
the transmission?”

“The
engine overheated and the gears are slipping.”

One
perfect dark brow lifted. He obviously didn’t expect her to know much about
cars. Cars and farming were what she knew best. “So you gonna have Ernie
replace the transmission?”

Her
brow tightened. “No. I’ll do it.”

At
that, both brows rose. “Really?”

“Why
not?” she asked, mildly insulted that he assumed she wouldn’t be able to do
such a thing.

“Uh,
no reason. I just don’t know any girls that are into that sort of thing.”

Her
mouth snapped shut. Nothing like being the odd ball out. In light of the hickey
on his neck, his comment irritated her more than it probably should have, and
her jealousy overruled her cautious tongue. “I’m not surprised, with the kind
of women you pass your time with.” Her hand smacked over her mouth.
Where had that come from?
“Sorry. I
didn’t mean—”

His
easygoing expression shuttered and guilt tunneled through every pumping vessel
in her body. What possessed her to be so nasty?

“Sure.”
He was clearly offended. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.”

With
that he stepped around her and regret crushed down on her chest. Why had she
said that? There was plenty a guy like Kelly McCullough could make fun of her
for. What right did she have to pass judgment on his choice of company?

Face
tight with regret, she turned and said, “Kelly, wait.”

He
stilled but didn’t face her.

“I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

His
fists were pressed deep in the pockets of his jeans. His shoulders hunched and
he slowly pivoted, that carefree smile back in place. “No problem, love. Just
calling them like you see them.”

Her
brow tightened. Was that what he thought? She didn’t want him to think she was
a cruel or judgmental person when really, her nasty words were nothing more
than jealousy fueled by her own insecurities. “No. That’s not how I see you,”
she admitted quietly.

His
smile twitched, but he managed to hold it in place. Those blue eyes studied her
and she noticed something peculiar hidden behind all that handsome perfection,
something insecure, perhaps a little wounded. Maybe he was used to being
stereotyped.

“You
said you weren’t used to girls knowing how to fix cars. I got offended and
lashed out. I didn’t mean to come off judgmental, especially when I know
exactly how much it stinks to be judged.”

His
smile faded the longer he watched her. Fidgeting under his scrutiny, she
swallowed, waiting for him to accept her apology. As if he reached some sort of
conclusion, his smirk jumped back in place. “Like I said, love, you’re just
calling them like you see them. You got my number and I got yours. Have a nice
day.”

Her
mouth opened but he twisted and marched off before she could formulate a reply.
What? What did he mean he had her number? No, she wasn’t all that complicated,
but she’d like to think she had some depth, that there was something more
beneath the surface worth figuring out.

What
a jerk. She wasn’t falling for his womanizing act. No man could be that
shallow. After years of watching him, she’d seen hidden moments where his focus
drifted and his smile faltered as if he was exhausted with putting on the
charm. There was no denying Kelly was a funny and entertaining person to be
around, but…so much of it was a performance.