Super Nova (6 page)

“Of what?” Nola and her sister said at the same time.

“Didn’t you say the guys have been part of the shop since they were teenagers? Along with that girl, Sally? What if he wanted her for himself? Or what if he wanted one of those other two guys—Eli or Alanso?” Their mom searched for the right words, trying to be politically correct, but they didn’t know a lot of openly polyamorous people.

Okay, exactly three.

“You’re saying you think Kaige might be in love with Sally?” Nola offered.

“Or Eli. Or Alanso. Maybe he’s gay,” Amber added.

“It’s not like he had some kind of indicator tattoo on his forehead. Hell, it’s one of the few places he doesn’t have ink.” Nola tried not to sigh at the memory of those bold slashes of color. “But no…I really don’t think he’s gay.”

The way he’d checked out her breasts, and her hips, and kept touching her leg…

Intuition screamed at her that if they’d met under different circumstances, like at a bar, they’d have been in for a wild ride. First she’d have to actually go out, though. She and Amber had turned into homebodies as they’d nurtured their consulting business.

“He could be bi. Mom’s right.” Amber shrugged without malice. “It’s a possibility. There are no rules in this kind of relationship, are there? Well, I guess there have to be, but we don’t know what they are. Maybe you stepped in the middle of something a lot more sensitive than we realized.”

And why did that thought make Nola turn a little green?

“Don’t wrinkle your nose like that, Nola Macey Brown.” Her mom wagged her finger. “There’s nothing wrong with people loving each other, no matter who they are. Girls, boys, blacks, whites, whatever. Two, three, ten, it doesn’t make any difference as long as they’re honest and all agree.”

“Of course not, Mom.” Nola ducked her head, her cheeks heating as she recalled plenty of stories about her father, and how—before his death—he’d constantly been harassed by racists for his dark-skinned wife. Back then, in the deep South, things had been different.

“She’s not discriminating or being snobby.” Amber laughed. “She’s
jealous
. He must have been one serious hottie, this mechanic.”

Their mom grinned as she looked between her daughters, confirming Amber’s diagnosis.

“It doesn’t matter how smokin’ he is.” Nola turned to replace the rest of her ice cream in the freezer, her appetite vanished. “He’s still an asshat.”

“Is your asshat’s name Kaige Davis?” Amber asked, a bit too innocently as she toyed with Nola’s laptop.

“Yes. Why?” She let the refrigerator door slam closed, despite the glare from her mother, then trotted to her sister’s side.

And there she saw it.

A bolded message had appeared in her inbox from Super Nova, with the subject line:
Sorry, I’m a dumbass
.

“Well, go ahead.” Her mother poked her in the shoulder. “Read it.”

“No way!” Nola shrieked as her sister tried to click the note. Reaching forward, she snatched the laptop off the table and dashed to her room for some privacy, shutting the door behind her.

The hollow-core didn’t keep the tinkling laughter her mother and sister exchanged from creeping after her.

She smiled, though her finger trembled, as she tapped the key to see what her new partner had to say for himself.

Kaige flipped the business card Nola had given him over and over across his bruised knuckles. Like her, the sturdy cardstock was dark, sleek and engaging. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her embossed email address, wishing it were her plump lips he touched instead.

Shit.
Sometime in the past few hours, his anger had blown over. Something equally as hot, but a lot more steamy, had replaced it the more he thought about the woman who’d refused to take his shit in their meeting this morning.

It was as if he’d gone from denting his precious bumper to having the whole thing fall right off. Because working with her would be ten times harder if he was horny than if he was pissed off.

Plus, she’d earned his respect. And he didn’t treat people he admired like crap.

At least he could man up and explain himself before they were official partners. It would be easier to compose his feelings and send them to her than to try and muddle through a verbal apology. He wasn’t usually great at organizing his thoughts or keeping his cool long enough to express what he intended.

So he grabbed his laptop, plopped into bed and leaned against the headboard as he started a message to the sassy consultant, then deleted it. About a hundred times in a row.

Frustrated, he hammered out
Sorry, I’m a dumbass
in the subject line.

The cursor sat in the body of the email, blinking at him like a check engine light on the fritz. It refused to stop no matter how he finessed the chaos in his mind. Irritating and persistent, it distracted him from finding the right thing to say.

Eventually he came up with a single line.

I’m not perfect on my best days, but I’ll try to be less of a fuck up tomorrow. Nova

A simple truth, but a motto he’d lived by ever since coming to the Hot Rods. Continuous improvement. Tom had given him that goal once, and it had stuck. He held himself to higher standards every day, even if he didn’t always succeed in achieving them.

Cheers erupted from the living room as someone won a race on their latest videogame. A pause followed. It might have lasted several minutes. Then more shouts and good-natured curses. Again. Then again.

Still the cursor flashed at him.

“Ah, fuck it.” Kaige clicked
Send
.

He wandered out into the main room with his computer in one arm. Along the way, he rummaged a slice of room-temperature pepperoni pizza from the jumble of boxes on the island. Then he slumped into a free space on the massive sectional couch, propping his laptop on one thigh as he demolished the second go at dinner.

He hadn’t sat there very long, wishing he could recall the damn email he’d sent Nola, when a soft
ding
drew his attention away from the rematch taking place on the big-screen in front of him.

Nola was efficient and prompt in answering correspondence. Why wasn’t he surprised?

What did kind of sneak up on him was the thrill that zinged along his spine at the sight of her name, while he clicked the email in his inbox and anticipated her response as it loaded in the main pane of his browser.

No one’s perfect, I only ask that you’re halfway civilized. ~Nola

A smirk kicked up the corners of his mouth. She hadn’t rubbed his face in his apology or made him defensive with some kind of righteous attack, though she would have been justified in launching one.

That’s a tall order. Did you see the guys I live with? None of us have very good manners. Kaige

P.S. Didn’t you mean ~Ms. Brown?

He failed to mention how he’d wiped pizza grease on his sweats to answer her right away.

I can teach you.

Rule one, don’t growl at people you’ve just met.

Rule two, don’t stare at my boobs. ~Nola

Kaige laughed out loud, drawing curious stares from Bryce and Holden, who were sitting this race out. “Uh, some dumb video on YouTube.”

“Show me.” Carver scooted closer. “I’ve had about as much of Alanso kicking everyone’s ass as usual as I can stand. Why is that fucker so damn good at videogames?”

Kaige ignored his friend’s rhetorical question and the middle finger Al shot in their direction without pausing his winning streak.

“I closed it already.” Nova angled the screen away from Meep when another message followed hot on the heels of the one he hadn’t even replied to yet.

I almost forgot…

Rule three, don’t question your boss’s intentions. He was too sexed up to realize he hurt your feelings by not soliciting your ideas. ~Nola

Nova took her insightful response like a fist to the gut. He sucked in a breath then looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Barracuda glanced over, then went back to reading a transmission manual while Holden surfed the net on his tablet, probably looking for new salvage lots they could raid.

Kaige cleared his throat and tried to ignore the tremble in his hands when he pecked at the keyboard. The stiffness there had nothing to do with his banged-up knuckles. They were healing nice and quick.

Shit, I was that obvious? It’s my fault too. I didn’t show him my plans. But yeah, it pissed me off when I assumed he thought I was too dumb to handle the future of the shop without giving me a real shot first. That had nothing to do with you. I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. No
V
a

P.S. I like that our names kind of match.

This time the words came easily. With her helping him find a constructive outlet, he could communicate the thoughts that had been jammed in his mind for hours. If she could do the same at translating his strategies from concept to concrete expressions, they might have a chance at making this thing work after all.

Apology accepted.

Ha ha, I guess they do. I probably would have noticed sooner if my eyes weren’t starting to cross. I’ve been looking at the computer too long! ~NoLa

He glanced at the clock above the TV. It was after midnight already, crap.

I didn’t realize it was so late. Am I keeping you up? Nova

Though he’d had the early shift most mornings lately, he hadn’t once yawned or felt the need to rub his eyes tonight. This could be a really bad sign. If it wasn’t way past their babies’ bedtimes, he would have Facetimed one of Joe’s Powertools crew for some advice he didn’t feel like asking his Hot Rods about just yet.

That might have been a first. Another
ding
caught his attention.

Nope. I’ve been doing my homework. I have a lot of questions for you. ~Nola

Kaige’s heart
kathumped
like a car with a catastrophic flat. Was she talking about his history? Had she looked up the youth center where Tom had found him? A few news articles and PR pieces from the past decade might be lingering out in cyberspace somewhere. Would she ask about stuff he didn’t plan to unearth?

As if she could read his unease in his lack of snappy response, she sent a double message.

About the market, I mean. I know a ton about business. Not so much about cars.

Will you be my tutor?
 
~Nola

The only other people he’d ever met who grasped when to pry and when to back off so seamlessly were the Hot Rods, because they had shady pasts too. He considered her street-tough attitude earlier as well. Could Nola have some dark spots of her own? Could she understand?

Getting ahead of yourself there, Nova,
he chastised himself.

Don’t make me picture you wearing a plaid skirt and knee-high socks. Besides, you must know some stuff. You own a car, don’t you? What kind? Nova

He opted for humor instead of the more serious path this conversation could have veered down if he let it.

As he hoped, he unleashed her tiger. Too bad he couldn’t see it, though he could picture it after her brief displays earlier.

Rule two, Nova. Remember, rule two.

A crappy red one. No seriously, I’d have to go look. It’s just a way to get from here to there. Most of the time it doesn’t even break down. ~Nola

Kaige grinned, then typed.
I didn’t say a word about your rack.

And you’re killing me here. Nova

He clicked the refresh button on his inbox about thirty times in ten seconds.

Careful or I’ll beat your fine ass with a ruler. I meant what I said to Eli. About the nut kicking.

Don’t worry about my car. It’s had a good life. ~Nola

He snorted, then tried to fake a sneeze when Sally peeked over at him, her eyes wide and unblinking.
You think I have a nice ass? Nova

Okay, that’s it. I’m done here. I have a hell of a lot more research to do if I’m going to impress you tomorrow. ~Nola

You’ve already done that. A bunch. Nova

This time her reply was simple. And he could read the seriousness in the two words. Maybe she even referred to more than his compliment. He hoped she meant them for reaching out after he’d nearly wrecked everything.
Thank you. ~Nola

It was weird how most times in email, meanings could be lost, but when he talked to Nola, everything seemed clear.

You’re welcome. Seriously. My garage is your garage. Don’t work too hard, though. I’m looking forward to seeing you bright and early tomorrow. Nova

Same goes, Kaige. Good night. ~N

Good night, Nola. The other N

Kaige waited fifteen minutes. Long enough to be sure she’d taken his advice and gone to bed. Thoughts of her long legs sliding beneath her sheets had him clearing his throat and making a break for his room.

He held his computer in front of his crotch like a shield, hoping he could make it to jerk off before anyone stopped him. While they might find another way to relieve him, it didn’t feel right to fantasize about Nola while someone else touched him.