Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,19

and digging around in there, that we needed to get better acquainted.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous explanation. “I see. Ellen, huh?”

“Yup,” he said with a smirk as he slapped the paper down in front of me.

I braced myself as I looked at the bill, waiting to see a number that’d send my very late breakfast back up my throat until I expelled it on their floor. But the number was much better than I anticipated, and I was thrilled to see I had more than enough in my pocket to make a good dent in it. But something didn’t seem right.

“I don’t understand,” I said with a frown as I continued to read the paper. “There’s no itemized list to show what I’m paying for.”

Stellan waved me off. “It’s the basics. Parts and tow.”

“What about labor?” I asked as I removed a hand from my pocket to run it through my hair.

“I grouped that with the parts. It’s all there.”

“But”—I couldn’t believe I was about to argue with him, but something didn’t seem right with what I was looking at—“the number seems so low.”

Stellan chuckled. “Maybe you’re used to the higher prices in the bigger cities. Here, things are a little more affordable.”

“I see.”

I reached for my wallet and retrieved the bills I’d shoved inside. After laying them on the counter, I grabbed a pen from the mug and scrawled my name on the line. Once I was finished, I returned the pen and pushed both the paper and money toward Stellan. Much like he did with the sunglasses, he stuck his hand out to grab the paper, only that time his hand landed on top of mine. It instantly tingled, sending a jolt of electricity running through my arm. I longed to flip my hand over to see how his rough fingers would feel against my palm. Would he be gentle with his touch? Or would he be as rough as the calluses? Which would I prefer?

But rather than giving into the urge, I forced myself to remove my hand. Because the longer we stood there, skin touching, the more I wished the counter wasn’t there so more of us could.

“Just let me grab your keys,” Stellan said as he reached toward what looked like a corkboard covered in hooks holding various sets of car keys. I noticed mine, which had a tag attached describing my car, and tried very hard not to stare at Stellan’s flexing muscles as he retrieved them. Of course the light hit his ink just right and his tattoos glinted, making his biceps look even larger. “Wait here, and I’ll pull your car around.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I protested.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to, okay?”

I nodded. “Of course. Thank you.”

Stellan grunted but didn’t say anything else, and I wished he wasn’t wearing those stupid sunglasses so I could see what expression his eyes were throwing my way. Was it annoyance or something else, since it felt like the temperature in the room had risen significantly since our hands touched? But before I could continue to think about it, or worse react, he was gone. I heard the sound of my car—Ellen—firing up, and a few seconds later it was idling in front of the building.

I wanted to laugh, because Stellan should have looked so out of place in the compact car with his larger than life frame, but rather than laugh at seeing him behind the wheel with his sunglasses planted firmly in place, I groaned at how right it looked. He exuded the confidence he possessed while playing the sax, and when he climbed out of the vehicle, I nearly swallowed my tongue.

I expected music to start playing, to provide the perfect soundtrack as he unfolded his body until he reached his full height. With some hair falling around his face, his sunglasses covering his eyes, and his sweaty, grease-stained shirt sticking to his tattooed skin, he was pure sex on legs, and I was thankful I was alone when a low moan burst from my throat.

“She’s all ready to go,” Stellan announced after he pulled open the door and stepped inside.

Me too, I wanted to tell him. Because if truth be told, if he walked over and planted a kiss on me, I wouldn’t push him away. Which should’ve frightened me, but it didn’t. Instead, the prospect of it had me feeling more excited than anything else.

“Thank you,” I managed to croak.

“The keys