It had been too much for him. Before he could even think it through, he was picking her up and hauling her towards what had once been Teddy’s mechanic garage, but which had become more of a general garage since she had stopped being a contracted employee.
Nova was solid—that much he’d figured from when she’d barreled into him. But he had pointedly ignored how his broad palm felt against the back of her strong thighs as he held her to him, his other hand busy holding her calve to stop her injured knee from jostling. His whole focus had been only on getting her to safety as quickly as possible and getting her to safety with as little jiggling as possible. Two goals that certainly seemed contradictory.
“No, I’ve had that limp since I was a teen.”
“Oh.”
He hadn’t expected her to continue, especially considering the tempestuous nature of all of their other interactions, but she did anyway. “I was in a car accident when I was younger. My knee started hurting real bad, but my parents didn’t believe me when I told them how much pain I was in and refused to take me to a doctor. Work apparently was super busy.” She huffed out a sound and if that wasn’t just about the most bitter thing Sal had ever heard. “And wouldn’t you know, walking around on a shattered kneecap for over a year can cause lasting damage. Absolutely wild.”
“You walked around on a shattered kneecap for an entire year?”
“Well… walking is a generous term. I used crutches for six months until people accused me of using them too long—and they started to give me wicked tension headaches in my shoulders as it is—so then I hobbled, limped, and wobbled around until finally I got to see someone.”
“I thought the UK was supposed to have miraculous universal healthcare that can fix anything.”
The look she gave him was sharp, almost as cold as the ice pack she was holding. “Mate, I lived at a military base at the time and all my doctors were from the States. I wish I had some of that sweet NHS healthcare that my buddies did. Goodness knows their mums didn’t have to wrestle with Tricare every other emergency.”
Sal felt his eyebrows shoot up. “You were an army brat?”
“Heavy on the brat, light on that whole military part. Ended up really being not my bag.”
“So… were you born in the States?”
“Nope. On a base. I’ve lived everywhere, mind you. Guam, Japan, but the largest chunk of my life was Britain, and now that my dad’s retired from military life, that’s where they’ve chosen to settle. That’s why I’ve got the accent too. Though the thing’s certainly faded from living here for a while. Think I’ll ever get a southern drawl?”
“I, uh…” He tried to think of her speaking with any sort of thick, American-esque accent and it just sounded wrong. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
“Pity. Seems fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah. Laid-back, easy-going. Sure, there’s the stereotypes of being not-so-bright or racist, but those are mostly just stereotypes. I wish I was better at mimicking people because I think it’d be rather fun to sound completely different at the drop of a hat.”
“…right.”
It was possibly the most she had said to him that wasn’t yelling at him about some sort of reptile. He found himself following the lilt of her voice, the gentle up and down of it, the way she emphasized different words than he would have. It made him wonder why she would ever want to sound like anything else.
“Hey, I thought I saw a mini fridge in here once. Is there a fresh water bottle in it? My mouth always gets super dry after one of these spells.”
“It’s the adrenaline,” Sal heard himself answer automatically as his feet took him around to where the fridge was.
“Oh, is it? That makes sense. I get that way during tests sometimes. I don’t miss that about high school.”
“You tellin’ me you weren’t a scholastic shining star?”
Was he bantering? It certainly felt like banter. Except it was with the bizarre, reptile-loving employee who seemed to be irritated by everything he did, so that couldn’t be right.
“Excuse you. I earned respectable grades most of the time. And apparently, compared to American education, I did right well.”
“As opposed to the left well?”
“Oh man, do you really want to get into teasing about colloquialisms when I’ve literally heard people around here unironically use a triple contraction.”
“A triple what?” Sal said, tossing her the water bottle and quickly draining one of his own.
“Contraction. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard someone use the abomination y’all’d’ve, because I know you’re a liar.”
Sal laughed, which surprised him more than it should have. “That’s more of a deep south thing in Alabama and the likes, but yeah, I suppose I’ve heard it a few times.”
“I rest my case.”
“Which was?”
“That people in glass houses would do well not to throw stones.” Unlike every other time they’d spoken, the woman had an easy smile on her face. It made her features light up, showing off her high cheekbones and pouty lips. Sal knew that blond with bright eyes was what was in at the moment, but there was something about her dark hair and deep, chocolate eyes that drew him in.
Not that he was drawn in! No, not at all. She was an employee. But still, he wasn’t blind. He could see that she was a fairly attractive lady when she wasn’t tackling folks or covering half of her face with her hands.
“Hey, I don’t think I ever caught your name,” he said, tossing his empty bottle into the recycling. She mimicked him but winced when she missed.
“Sorry, could you get that for me? And I’m surprised to hear that. Figured you would have learned that when you tried to get me fired.”
He stiffened mid-bend while retrieving her errant missile. “One of my brothers tell you that?” It figured.
She just chuckled. “Nah, mate. You did. Practically declared it in writing when you tried to have Elizabeth fire me then stalked off to find one of the twins.”
“Right.” He had forgotten about that. He’d had a lot on his mind. “Look, I—”
But she held up her hands, laughing again. “You don’t need to explain it. On my first day of work I tackled one of my bosses. I get it, not a good foot to start on.”
…oh. That wasn’t what he expected her take to be.
She continued, “Anyway, it’s Nova. Nova Clark. You don’t need to introduce yourself.” Her smile was curled at that last comment, giving her an entirely impish look. “You can say that your reputation precedes you.”
“Fair enough. You know, we don’t have to be enemies, Nova.”
At that, the woman’s dark eyes went wide. “Enemies? Who said we were enemies?”
“Well, given how you usually act when we talk—”
“Look, I’m short with you because you’re annoying and awkward, not because we’re enemies.”
“Wait, I’m awkward?” There was a lot to unpack in that statement. A bloom of happiness that she didn’t consider him to be her opponent. He felt like all of his brothers considered him that, and it was so exhausting. No, that wasn’t the right word. Alienating? Yeah, maybe that was it. But that happiness was quickly dimmed by her assessment that he was obnoxious.