Mustang Sassy (32 page)

“Yes, you did.”

“As far as your daughter goes…” Jordan scratched the back of his neck. “I care about her. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.”

“Let’s leave Sass out of the discussion.”

Jordan sighed and got up. “Have you ever made a mistake, Buck? Have you ever done something you wished you could take back?”

Their eyes met across the desk. “Yes,” Buck said, quietly. “I have.”

…

Sass needed help. If she was going to get this car finished in the impossibly short amount of time she had left before Buck’s wedding she needed all the help she could get. On Saturday, she was so desperate, she even considered calling Carlos in from his day off because both Al and Manny were busy. And Buck—well, who the hell knew where Buck was? With Mary-Lynn around, he’d gone AWOL. Not that she could ask for his help anyway, the car was supposed to be his surprise. That left one option.

Jordan.

Why did the thought of getting help from Jordan make her feel so damned…excited?

Because you don’t just need his help. You want it.

Shit. She couldn’t pretend she was mad at him anymore. All this avoiding took too much effort when all she really wanted was to hang out with him. Sass just hoped he hadn’t left yet on the wild-goose chase that Al had created for him. Thankfully, she found him, seated at the workbench, going over some hot-rod mags, the sketchbook he never went without close at hand. She tried to peek at what he was working on over his shoulder, but Jordan must have heard her because he closed the sketchbook up quickly before turning around.

His smile melted her from the inside out and she covered up her answering grin with a smart-assed scowl. “Don’t you have parts that need picking up?”

“Nope. Finished everything up yesterday.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, I suppose I could use your help.” She may have forgiven him, but that didn’t mean she had to let on how much she needed him. His help, that was.

Surprise flashed across his features but then he jumped to his feet, tucked his sketchbook under his arm and followed her into bay two. Once inside, he stopped, like some big marble statue, and stared. “What are you doing in here?” he asked in a low voice.

“Well,” Sass began in a hurry, moving as far away from him as she could, “Al helped me section the body of the roadster and marry it with a set of American Stamping ’32 rails.” She pointed to the corner where the remains of the F1 sat. “I chopped the truck roof, split it, and took out a section and welded it back together. I’m going to use the Model A trunk and doors but the parts needed some major adjustments.”

“Uh-huh.” Jordan turned slowly as he surveyed the bay. “What are you doing about the engine?”

“Al’s got a spare ’59 Cadillac 360 he said he’ll adjust and fit to the body of the roadster.” Sass could already imagine the engine in place, the chrome buffed to a polish and the funky clear-capped regulator that would look so cool.

After a moment of silence, Jordan said quietly, “You’re building my car.”

“Yeah, well, trying to. But it’s never going to get finished in time if I don’t get some more help.”

“In time?”

“For Buck’s wedding.”

“And you want
me
to help?”

Sass chewed on her thumb. “Yeah. But that’s all, okay?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s all’?”

“I’m not asking for anything else, got it?” She approached him and poked him in the shoulder. “I just want your help. With the
car
. Nothing more.”

Jordan gazed down at her with
that
look in his clear blue eyes. “What makes you think I want to do anything besides help with the car?”

“I know you, Michaels. I know that look,” she pointed at him accusingly. “I know your tricks. I will not make the same mistake twice.” Such a liar!

“Well you don’t know me very well, because you keep calling me by the wrong name.”

“Old habits die hard.”

He moved so close she could practically taste him. “Yes they do, don’t they? But you know, Sass, some old habits aren’t so bad. If I remember correctly, and I think I do, some old habits were really, really good.”

“Back off, Carlyle,” she growled, her body trembling with his nearness.

A slow smile spread across his face. He leaned down as if he was going to do something really nasty, like
kiss
her. Sass should have backed off or smacked him. But instead she just stood there, staring into City-boy’s eyes. Feeling woozy and tingly.

It was Jordan who moved away, not her. Though he didn’t go very far. “Fine,” he whispered. “What do you want me to do?”

“I—” Sass cleared her throat. “You’re, ah, pretty good with the, ah…sander now.” She turned and pointed at the truck roof. “See all these rough spots where I’ve welded parts together?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to sand them down until you can’t tell it was two pieces. Think you can do that?”

He grinned. “Yeah. I think I can.”

…

Sass should have just slept at the shop, because by the time she got there Sunday morning, she’d only had about four hours of sleep. After ordering Chinese food for supper, she and Jordan had stayed at the shop until almost midnight. The guy didn’t know shit about putting cars back together, but he was strong, he was a fast learner and helpful. The best part about working with Jordan was he didn’t feel threatened by her and try to contradict her. It was only when she started talking about the fenders she was going to create out of sheet metal that he disagreed with her. She wanted to keep the classic look, but Jordan seemed to have other ideas.

“The whole point of this car is taking pieces from different eras,” he’d said.

“But the fenders you have on here are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. They’re too modern.”

“That’s the idea,” he insisted. “Past, present, and future.”

“But…”

“No buts. The ones you want to do just won’t look right.” He sketched the fenders in that she’d told him about. Sass couldn’t believe it. He was right. There was something off with the car when it had her fenders.

“You’ve got to do something like this.” He showed her the original drawing and then modified it ever so slightly so that it incorporated some of the sweep of the fenders she wanted but still stayed true to his original concept.

“How did you do that?” Sass stole a glance at him and was shocked by what she saw in his face. It was like looking in the mirror. He stared at his drawing like he was listening to it whisper secrets to him. That’s how she’d felt when she’d worked on the ’Vette.

“I don’t know, exactly. I just know that this is right.”

She studied the drawing again. “Okay, we’ll do it your way.”

Now she reviewed the sketch one more time. It was smudged in places and covered in scribbles, grease, and dirt so that the original drawing was hard to make out. But it didn’t matter. The image was burned in her brain and the new fenders were now a part of it.

Sass worked until noon, or tried to anyway. For some reason, she couldn’t concentrate. Every random sound had Sass checking the door or the parking lot. But it was just Carlos or Manny or Al. Buck never came in; he was too busy with wedding and moving plans. Neither did Jordan. Not that she expected him to. She didn’t. But by one o’clock, she decided to take a break. There was something she needed to do.

When she arrived back at the house, she opened the front door and nearly tripped over a suitcase that was sitting there. She moved it to the side and walked into the kitchen where Mary-Lynn was busy making up food for the freezer.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Mary-Lynn spun around with her hand on her chest, “Oh! Sweets! You startled me.”

“Why is your bag at the door?”

“I’ve got to get back to Miami. I’ve got a deal that’s about to close.” She laughed. “And I need to actually start planning this wedding that’s supposed to take place next month.”

“When do you leave?” Sass wanted to know.

“Tomorrow morning. Early.”

Sass felt weird. Like Mary-Lynn was abandoning her or something. She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the table and leaned against the counter. “What’s all that?”

“What? These? These are casseroles. Heating instructions are on the top.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Mary-Lynn said, “I know. But I want to.”

Sass drummed her fingers on the counter as she watched Mary-Lynn wrap another dish and then pop it into the freezer.

“Mary-Lynn?”

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Sass drummed some more. She chewed another hunk of apple and swallowed. Mary-Lynn was leaving. If she didn’t ask now it’d be too late. “Would you…?”

After the last dish was in the freezer, Mary-Lynn turned and smiled encouragingly at Sass. Sass looked away, cringing.

“What is it?”

“I was just wondering, what I mean is…would you take me shopping?”

Chapter Twenty-six

He was being ridiculous. Just because she’d shown up for his art class on Wednesday didn’t mean she was going to show up tonight. She was probably at the shop—even though it was supposed to be her day off. He doubted Sass had any idea what time of day it was, let alone what day of the week it was. But it didn’t change the way Jordan’s stomach tightened when he carried the art supplies in past the half-empty dining room on Sunday night. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the table where Millie usually sat, but it was empty.

That didn’t mean anything. Jordan cursed himself under his breath. This was stupid. But when he arrived at the recreation room and Millie wasn’t among the residents waiting to start class, he experienced a sense of deep disappointment. With a little less enthusiasm than usual, Jordan set up the easels and art supplies and checked his watch.

“Mr. Carlyle?”

Millie wheeled toward him, a woman he’d never seen before walking behind.

“Hi, Ms. Delacroix, how are you this evening?”

“Wonderful. And look who has volunteered to be our model this evening?”

“I thought it was your turn to model.”

“Me? We have enough portraits of old codgers. We need some young blood.”

“I said, no, Mill,” the woman hissed.

“Oh, don’t be silly. All you have to do is sit there.”

Jordan’s jaw nearly dropped on the ground. The woman pushing Millie’s chair was Sass. But she didn’t look like Sass. Her hair was cut shorter, styled, and straightened so that bangs framed her eyes and face. Her clothes were, well they were nice. Really nice. She wore a peach-colored sweater that showed off her tan and some short-cropped pants. He was pretty sure she was wearing makeup too because her eyes were brighter and more alluring than usual.

“Sass?”

“What?” She returned his gaze with that mixture of annoyance and something else. Suddenly Jordan saw it for what it was. Uncertainty. Never in a million years would Jordan have thought of Sass as insecure. Tough, strong, occasionally belligerent. But insecure? No.

Not until now.

“You look…”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

“Beautiful.” He smiled wide. “I think we would all be honored if you would pose for us.” He raised his voice loud enough for the gathering residents to hear him. “Ms. Hogan has offered to pose for us this evening.” He took her hand and led her to the stool in the middle of the room amidst the sound of spattered clapping from the residents.

“Go on,” Millie urged her.

“This is stupid,” Sass whispered harshly.

“No, it’s not.” He tried to help her sit and to adjust her pose, but she flinched away from his touch.

“You of all people should know how I get. I can’t do this. I get too fidgety.”

Jordan leaned closer and whispered, “All you have to do is forget about the people here and think of that car you’re building.”

Their eyes met for a second, but it was enough. Jordan saw all he needed to know in that one heated glance. He and Sass shared two common passions. The first was the car in the shop. The second was this thing between them. Oh, she was trying to deny it. But she’d never been one to hide her feelings, and Jordan vowed to do something about it. Tonight.

Once all his students were working independently, Jordan sat behind an easel, clipped a fresh sheet of paper to it, and started to draw. His fingers followed the curve of her face, the width of her shoulders and dip of her waist. He lovingly traced her and smudged the dark lines into softer ones. The thing he filled in last was the details in her eyes. The sparkle and passion that he loved so much. Damn those eyes had captivated him from the very start.

“It’s a lovely portrait,” Millie sighed.

Jordan started, unaware she’d wheeled her chair behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to find his students surrounding him, examining his creation. He laughed and took a step back, cocking his head to try to see the portrait objectively, which should have been impossible. Yet even he realized it was one of the most beautiful portraits he’d ever done.

…

Sass hurried out of the seniors’ lodge in a daze. Her skin tingled, which was weird, and her pulse raced as if she’d spent the last hour exercising, not simply sitting there staring at a wall. It was because she hadn’t been staring. She’d been imagining. First she’d imagined the car, everything that still needed to be done to finish it. Then she’d imagined Jordan, collaborating with him over it, the two of them working on it, side by side, Jordan with his shirt off, which was not only weird but totally against safety regulations. But, it was a fantasy after all. Then she pictured them taking the car for its first ever test drive. She imagined their shared thrill over completing the project and she imagined just how they’d celebrate—driving fast and ending up at the cabin for one of Jordan’s famous homemade meals followed by one of his infamous slow-dance, love-making sessions.

Sass shivered in the cool night air. Apparently her attraction to City-boy was still running strong. Too bad she’d thrown out the ridiculous butterfly thing Libby had given her. She figured she could use it right about now.