“Hi, Jackson. Nice to meet you.” Bellamy extended her hand. Her no-nonsense smile made it look like she’d just waltzed into a job interview, not off the concrete floor of a garage where she’d been pretzeled around the guy’s best friend.
Under any other circumstances, Shane would’ve had a good, long laugh at the look on Jackson’s face. As it was, Shane was still working on talking Mr. Happy down from the good-morning-to-you ledge, so he shut up and stayed put.
“Nice to…meet you, too,” Jackson said, but it came out like a question. He shook her hand, then turned his attention to Shane. “Sorry to barge in. I finished my shift and was headed home, but I saw your truck. I wanted to make sure you were okay in here. I didn’t know…well…you didn’t mention that you had, uh, company…”
Bellamy’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “I came by yesterday to check on my car, and we got snowed in when the blizzard warning closed the roads.” She squinted toward the windows, wincing at the unforgiving sunlight pouring in.
“Oh. Well, the main roads are pretty passable now. You, ah, want me to plow the lot so you can get out?”
Shane got up off the floor, the ache in his shoulder and neck making him instantly sorry. “Yeah, man. That would be great.” He looked out into the lot to the road beyond with unease. “Hey, Bellamy’s in that Bimmer, and she needs to go back up the mountain to the resort.” Shane jutted his chin toward the front of the building where Bellamy had left her friend’s car. He could just see the thing pitching over the guard rail in his mind’s eye, even with the roads cleared.
Jackson let out a low whistle and looked at Bellamy. “Well, you’ll probably be okay getting back, but you’ll have to take it really slow.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine.” She waved a hand through the air, but the gesture lost its oomph as both men gave her wary looks in response. “Don’t you think?” she tacked on.
“Tell you what.” Jackson’s eyes shifted to Shane’s for a fraction of a second before settling back on Bellamy. “I’ve got to head that way to get home anyhow. Why don’t you follow right behind me? Main roads could probably use another plowing anyhow, what with the drifting.”
Note to self. Buy Jackson a round at the Double Shot. Maybe two. The resort was nowhere near Jackson’s route home.
Her brow creased in confusion. “Wait. You’re taking the snowplow home with you?”
Jackson’s good-natured laugh rang through the space of the garage, and any remaining strains of awkwardness disappeared. “You could look at it that way. I have a plow blade that attaches to the front of my truck for side jobs. I’d guess not a lot of people in the city do that, huh?”
Bellamy shook her head, framing her sheepish smile with a couple of wisps of hair that tumbled free around her face. “No.”
“Well, it’s not as big-deal as the heavy-duty trucks, but it’ll keep things clear enough for you to get up the mountain,” Jackson offered with a smile of his own.
She wavered. “If you’re sure it wouldn’t put you out, maybe it would be a little safer that way, since I’m not really used to driving in much snow.”
“Not a problem at all.”
Shane exhaled a silent breath, and he sent an equally wordless look of gratitude in Jackson’s direction. At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about her plunging off the side of the mountain. Worrying about why he was so worried was another story, and one he’d have to deal with later.
“Okay. So, I’ll just go freshen up and call Jenna and Holly to let them know I’m on my way.” Bellamy moved slowly, letting her words settle into silence before taking a step. Shane busied himself by grabbing the blanket to shake it out, trying like hell to avoid the inquisitive stare of his friend. The last thing he wanted was to have to answer a bunch of questions about the sex he’d obviously had with Bellamy. He snapped the blanket for good measure.
Her bra fell to the floor at his feet, the delicate white lace so at odds with the boot-scuffed gray of the floor that missing it was statistically impossible.
Well, didn’t that just dispel the mystery.
“Um.” Shane took a step back from it as if it were a rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike, while Jackson poorly fought the urge to laugh his fool head off, fake-coughing into the crook of his elbow to hide his ear-to-ear grin.
“Everything okay?” Bellamy stopped halfway to the office, turning on her heel to look at him.
Shane shifted his weight uncomfortably. “You, ah, dropped something,” he mumbled, eyeballing the swath of lace and satin. Should he pick it up? Oh, hell, it wasn’t like the whole scene didn’t scream “we had sex on every surface of this garage and it was fan-fucking-tastic!” anyhow. Shane scooped the delicate fabric up off the floor and folded it gently into his palm while Jackson grabbed his wallet from the workbench and hightailed it out the side door, stammering something about warming up his truck in between errant cough-laughs. As soon as Bellamy saw the offending object, she skidded to a stop and jerked her arms around her body as if she’d forgotten she hadn’t been wearing the thing, but it only pushed her cleavage higher into view down the deep V of her sweater.
“Oh, shit,” she cursed softly, turning just pink enough to make her freaking adorable. She took a deep breath, and Shane couldn’t help but zero in on the curve of her braless chest beneath the cream-colored sweater, his brain trying to convince his nether region that he couldn’t see the faint outline of her nipples through the fabric.
Welcome back, hard-on.
Shane tugged his shirt lower over his jeans as he passed the bra over. “Jackson might not have seen it,” he suggested in an effort to help her save face.
She didn’t even buy it for a second. “Really? Is he clinically blind?” An uncharacteristic giggle escaped from her lips, followed up by a full-on laugh.
“Well…okay. He absolutely saw it,” Shane said, starting to laugh with her.
She shook her head and smiled. “Now that I’ve flashed my undergarments at your friend, I guess I should replace them and make that call. Holly and Jenna are probably wondering where I am.” Bellamy’s eyes skimmed the office door, but she didn’t move.
“Yeah, okay. I’m going to go help Jackson. I can warm the BMW up for you if you want.” He scratched his head and looked at her, simultaneously loving and hating that damned sweater and the suggestion of what lay beneath it.
“That would be great. I’ll be out in a second to help.” She fished the keys out of her coat pocket and passed them over to him, her fingers touching his for a brief, electric second.
He was never going to get rid of this stupid hard-on.
“Sure. Take your time.”
He watched her walk the entire way to the office before turning to go outside.
Jackson went all cat-that-ate-the-canary the second Shane stepped out the door, unrolling the truck’s driver’s side window down to the doorframe in spite of the frigid temperature to fix him with raised eyebrows and a huge grin. The sunlight was bright enough to be borderline obnoxious, and Shane had to squint his eyes down to slits just to see through the glare.