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  I was still thinking about this fact when I heard a snort and looked over to see a set of rubber handled wrenches, with the 3/8 already attached.

  “Thank you.” I looked up. It was the hot guy from the booth today, my “do you know me?” man.

  “You again? You don’t give up, do you?” I shook my head, “No, I still don’t remember you, but since you were kind enough to help me out with the wrench, and none of these ‘ladies’ here would help me, maybe we can talk after I finish this.” I figured I owed him as much, helping me out such as he did.

  He laughed, shook his head, and stood back to watch, like the rest of them, to see me at my latest attempt at “pinup car show”. Again, I took off the petticoat and climbed under the engine as far as possible. This time, though, I felt strong hands guiding me and securing the car as I went. That was nice. Being crushed by a car wasn’t high on my “ways I want to die” list. Maybe climbing Everest, or running with the bulls; even fighting the crowds on the sample day at Valentino. All of that came before being crushed.

  Because his hands were already on me, helping me to get somewhat better access to that illusive starter, I decided to go balls in. I mean, I really did need help and he was already there, already involved, so what could it hurt to ask.

  “Um, can you give me a hand here?” I asked, muffled by the car I was currently lying under.

  I heard a deep, rumbly, panty-melting “yes”, and shivered despite the heat in the building.

  Damn, how did I miss that voice while we were at the booth? Refocusing on the job, I continued. “I’m gonna need you to help me get this starter out- it’s a two person job, I think it’s split and the screws are broken; I can only turn the wrench so far from the bottom and need you to finish from the top.”

  I was expecting laugher because of my top and bottom comments but none came, instead, he just mumbled a deep “no problem” and I heard the wrench crank. Every once in a while our hands would touch and I swear I felt a zap that had nothing to do with the engine or the manifold. Then, I saw his face and I understood what my nana had always meant when she said time stood still. Because it did. I don’t know what continued going on around me, but I couldn’t have cared less. I was too focused on his amazing eyes and dark, slightly unkempt hair. And the tattoos snaking their way up his neck... I suddenly wanted to lick them. Badly. Like, my mouth drooled. He said something (I couldn’t tell what, I was in my own world… heaven to be precise).

  I looked up at him real hard this time, since he wasn’t going anywhere for a while, as we worked to get the starter out. He chuckled. Apparently I was completely zoned out. I studied him under my lashes but nothing came to me. I truly didn’t know him. He was hot though, Meghan had that right.

  We finally got the starter out and I showed my dad and the steel had indeed split. Unheard of. He walked off, mumbling something about “the fucking starter” and left me, alone, with this new, handsome as fuck, stranger.

  He crooked his head to look at me, “You really don’t know who I am?” he asked, again.

  I don’t know what came over me, maybe it was hanging all day with Meghan, but I was suddenly angry. I mean, did he think I was stupid and that asking the same question over and over would finally trigger me remember him? Ugh. I felt the snarky comment coming before I could control it, “God, now that you ask again, it finally came to me…. Yes I do! You’re the jackass who thinks his cock should make him unforgettable. Sorry, not that girl. So no, I don’t remember you.” I spewed out. I then turned and got to cleaning up my workspace in silence, alone. Perfection.

  I swear, Meghan would have been so proud of me. Or not. She wanted me to get laid, not run them off. But damn, I couldn’t seem to control my mouth right now. I turned to leave, finished with my cleanup, when I heard him break out in laughter. It was that deep laugh that made your clit tingle and your insides shift. That, coupled with his good looks, tattoos, muscles, and smell, was a lethal combination. I needed to leave, but for some odd reason I couldn’t. I just stood, staring, watching this amazing man laugh, angled toward the door in a semi-escape mode.

  “Will you please, please come get a glass of tea with me? It’s sweltering hot, you have a gazillion layers on and have got to need something to cool off. We can get to know each other.” He asked.

  Maybe I was still in shock, or maybe Meghan had finally gotten to me, but I found myself replying, “I like the tea at that shop towards the end of the food section, where the rides start, with the mason jars…. If that’s okay?”

  “It’s perfect,” he proclaimed and he put his arm out for me to take.

  Wow. I did, you know, take his arm. I couldn’t resist that gentlemanly gesture. He was strong, good looking and smelled great. We started walking to the tea booth, all the while him staring at me.

  “Do I look that odd? I mean, I know I am odd but really, to stare the whole time?” I asked.

  He looked startled and then ashamed.

  “It’s okay,” I claimed, “I’m used to it, I mean, look at my clothes… people see me and think freak. I am ‘that girl’, the odd, quiet, outsider. I am good with who I am.” And there was the lie. I felt like he could see it printed in large letters across my forehead, “LIAR”. I rambled to try and make him feel better.

  “Wait, does that mean you wear a corset daily?” he asked.

  I smiled, “And there we are. Men. Yes, mostly I do. It’s called waist training. It means that even without a corset on, I maintain the shape. I like the hourglass look, hence the corset. Besides, I don’t think they are uncomfortable if you buy the good ones, and hello – automatic diet. I can put as much food as I want on my plate, and I still can’t eat it all. Winning!” I fist pumped.

  “Other days I dress in different eras. I find the clothing of the past more…accepting than that of the current.” Thankfully he didn’t ask why.

  He shook his head in quiet laughter. “How did we all miss this?” he quietly spoke to himself. He looked up at me and smiled, “I stare because you are so beautiful I lose my ability to think.” Then we started walking again, “By the way, my name’s Brock.”

  Butterflies I didn’t know I had, took flight in my stomach, making me blush. It was a new feeling, that of being told I was beautiful. People always said I was ‘cute’ or ‘pretty’ but never beautiful. This new feeling, was this what Meghan felt all the time? If so, I could see why she would do anything to keep it. It’s powerful. Addictive. I also liked that he was the one who gave it to me.

  Brock

  How in the world did the entire class of 01’ miss this girl, now woman? How did I do what I had done to this amazing woman? And mostly, how had everyone agreed and egged it on, making it so that my simple little boy moves became something so big it couldn’t be controlled. This Teagan was absolutely stunningly beautiful. The perfect hourglass figure, rich dark red hair and clear green eyes were a killer combination. I know that, had I truly known her in high school, I would have done many a stupid thing to get her to notice me. Well, stupid yet not evil like I had.

  Yet, I don’t remember a single one of my friends sticking up for her nor do I remember her being anywhere I was. I was the captain of the football team and the girls were all over me, how in the world did I miss this gem? How did I think I needed some gimmick that nearly ended everything good to get her? I get that I may have not been everyone’s cup of tea, but even those who didn’t like me, had friends who did. This girl, she didn’t even recognize me. It’s almost like she blocked the entire time out of her memory and moved on.

  I knew I looked different now. My life had been hard, post-high school. I was used to being the top dog, but bad decisions and worse outcomes had quickly shown me that life is hard. I went to college on a scholarship for football, but the partying soon took over my life and I lost the game. Soon after, I lost everything else in my attempt to
drown myself in drugs and alcohol. Jail time served not only to get me sober and give me time to learn a new trade, rebuilding cars, but also to become who I wanted to be. I was out now, working, and reclaiming my life. I was proving that the messed up jock was gone and that I could be the man I wanted to be in the future. I was, essentially, a new person, but, so far, every woman I had known had recognized me and run up to ask for, or get around to me asking them for a date. All of which I said no to. I just wasn’t that person anymore. I was focused on myself and rebuilding, yet here I was, completely enamored by this woman next to me. This woman who has no recollection of who I am, and is the one person I want to know but can’t for the life of me figure out how to tell her the truth of who I am.

  So, here I am, walking a pinup, a beautiful one, to tea. Now that I look at her, again though, I think she would stand out in a crowd wearing jeans and no makeup, she was that stunning. This getup seemed to me like a disguise. Like the look was a way to separate her from people, to keep the world at a distance from her. Maybe we would get to the place someday where we could discuss disguises, since if anyone understood the need for them, I did. But if we did get there, it would probably mean she would know I was the reason she thought she needed a disguise in the first place. So… maybe not.

  As we walked down the street I heard her dad yell goodbye and she waved back. People that passed us walking nodded and smiled, with her saying a shy ‘hello’ to any that approached. We slowly walked across the fair, chatting about simple things. By the time we got to the little kiosk that she called a shop to get tea, I felt that I knew a lot about her, but yet nothing at the same time.

  When I stepped up to order our tea, one sweet and one not, Teagan spoke up, “Two, un-sweet, please” I liked her even more. I had gone down South to college and ended up doing my time down there too. Sweet tea was a way of life there and as much as I had hated it, I had eventually grown used to it. Now that I was out, I was damn happy to have my normal, non-syrupy tea back. I think my jail time was making me appreciative of things that I normally wouldn’t have paid any attention to. Or maybe I had just been out of the game for so long I saw everything differently. Whatever it was, it seemed even the small, insignificant things about Teagan (like tea) made me happy. By the time I got our tea, she had found a little spot in the shade to sit and drink and hopefully, to talk.

  “So, I work with your dad at the restoration shop.” Wow, I had officially lost it. First I practically follow her around all day, repeating the same stupid question over and over and now I was blurting stupid facts about myself? I grimaced inwardly at my inability to function around her. She turned me inside out. Trying to think of something, anything else to say that would save me from my own stupidity, I heard her start giggling.

  “Restoration shop?? You have to know all he does is pick the cars he likes to work on, we all repair the rest, right?”

  I laughed because we did all know this around the shop but he was a good man and a good boss who stood beside you, so we just took it as it was. Plus, he paid well. “I know this; we all know this. But, we also appreciate it and would never say it to him, so now you have to swear to secrecy that you won’t share that his staff knows his secret.”

  I tried to look as stern as I could. She busted up again.

  “I promise. But your stern face needs work, you look severely constipated. Plus, since you are technically my staff too, I guess I’ll let it go since it seems to be working well as is.”

  My other boss? I knew when I saw her working on that ‘Cuda that she had experience, but not that much. This meant getting involved with her was risking my new job, and jobs for ex-cons were few and hard to come by. I had to get it together and determine if I could do this, date her and work for her. I knew what I wanted the answer to that question to be, one look at Teagan and any sane man would give up a job for the chance to be able to call her his. I really hoped I could do this.

  I smiled, honesty was not something I was used to, but was something I had learned was important in anything that would go on to succeed, but really nothing prepared you for the honesty I needed to give to her and I wasn’t starting with that.

  “So, let me start over, I’m Brock, you know that. I work in what’s apparently your dad and your shop. I just moved here, but I am not new to town. I grew up here. I know we just met and are feeling each other out right now, but I feel the need to share some not so good stuff about me so you know who I am upfront, okay? Feel free to leave, but I hope you stay and listen. I just want this,” I motioned between her and I, “To start out open and honest. I am very big on honesty now, having made the mistakes I have.” I could give her this much, she deserved this much. The rest would have to come later. If she gave me a later.

  Teagan looked at me stunned, “People do that? They leave after you have taken a chance to open up to them and be honest? Like they haven’t made mistakes. I’m listening. But I should tell you before you get started, no matter what you have to tell me, you’ve been a complete gentleman today. Yes, it was funny and awkward with the repeating ‘do you know me’ question, but funny now in a way that I know you weren’t implying I was stupid, you were just genuinely asking. You walked here, with me on your arm and didn’t flinch at the people staring at me. You bought the tea. All these actions are tiny clues of traits that are wonderful on their own, but when combined the beautiful man sitting next to me, are a potentially lethal combination. So, I’m gonna listen but as long as you haven’t killed anyone, we’re gonna be fine, okay? Besides, you forget that I work in a car shop full of men with pasts and records and that I actively hired a lot of them. ” She held my free hand gently as she said this, her eyes telling me the truth behind her statement. Then she added, quietly, “Besides, we all have secrets and scars. Bad things happen and scars happen and they remind us that life moves on; that life is real. Some of the greatest people in the world bear the largest scars of us all.”

  Wow. There was so much more to this woman than the pretty girl sitting on the grass quietly drinking tea with me. I had a feeling I had a large part to play in who she was, but damn was she a fine woman. I was completely captivated by her.

  “Okay, here goes nothing. You know my name, but we went to high school together and were in the same graduating class. That’s why I kept asking if you knew me. But really, I don’t remember you being there. (LIE) I would have remembered someone as beautiful as you.” I just lied my ass off to the most perfect woman I’d met.

  She stopped me here, “You can stop now if you just wanted to talk because your ego is affected by my not knowing you. Or find out why you didn’t lay the last person in the school.” She was attempting to keep the mood light despite my nerves and I appreciated it. I lifted a brow and smirked, liking the little snarky comments that she made frequently but thinking they weren’t meant for humor but more for distraction.

  “That has nothing to do with this except why do neither of us really remember the other when we went to such a small school?”

  She shrugged, “I wasn’t really involved in anything in high school, unless Meghan dragged me in to it. High School was…not a good time for me. I don’t recall much and don’t care to.”

  Okay, only I could totally guess why and that hurt like a bitch.

  “Anyway, after high school, I had a college scholarship to Duke for football. Man, high school had been so easy for me that I never really learned how to work for the things I wanted. When football at Duke got hard, instead of putting in more effort, I tried to find easier ways to get what I wanted. I partied a lot and played around even more. Eventually my life caught up with me and I got busted for using steroids. With that, I lost my scholarship and my so called ‘perfect’ life went to hell.

  I tried to stay in school on loans, but my attitude sucked and my grades plummeted. I was too egotistical to tell anyone what was going on, so my parents still thought I was on a scho
larship and I wasn’t about to call and tell them what had happened. Eventually my grades got so bad that the school itself kicked me out. At that time, for the first time I could remember, I broke down. I got into drinking and stronger drugs; before I knew it, I was addicted and doing everything I could for them. One night the police caught me with a stolen car and matched my prints to many others. Needless to say, I did time this time. I was led in chains to a bus, and from that bus to a prison where I got one room with a weirdo roommate. I got three years for some silly youthful decisions but they helped me to see that a good life required hard work and not taking short cuts. When I got out, I took up working on cars and started at a shop with a guy I had met inside. Eventually I got the urge to return home, here, and your dad took me in.”

  I stopped to breathe, having said all of that in what was one long, painful breath, yet knowing I was still hiding the worst of it. “I know it is a lot to take in, but I have learned the value of honesty now and that telling people up front so that they aren’t surprised in the future, it works a lot better. So, there it is, my ugly truth.” LIAR.

  I felt a soft hand caress my cheek and I opened my eyes to see her green ones filled with emotion. She wasn’t going to hit me or run away. Instead her hand stayed soft on my face and I found myself leaning into it. It made me wonder how long it had been since I had let someone comfort me, emotionally. Sure, I had slept with plenty of women since getting out of jail, but I had never had a relationship. I hadn’t made a connection with anyone that would cause me to rely on anyone in any way. I was too focused on rebuilding and not messing up again.