calling to let you know those parts you ordered are in, so you can pick them up any time."
"Awesome! Thank you! I'll see you soon!"
She hung up, tossing her phone down on the counter, before meeting Matty's curious gaze. "Who was that?"
"Chris from Jerry's."
"Chris from Jerry's," he repeated. "Who the hell is Jerry?"
"Oh, I don't know. I guess the dude who owns the place? I only met Chris. He called to tell me the parts I ordered are in."
"You ordered parts? For what?"
"For the car."
"The Honda?"
"The Lincoln. I went into the garage in town and ordered some parts so I can try to fix it."
He stared at her like she'd gone insane. "Do you even know what's wrong with it?"
"I'll figure it out."
"So you ordered parts for a car that you don't even know will work, and you gave your phone number to some stranger so he could arrange for you to come pick them up from him?"
"Yep."
"And you don't see anything wrong with that?"
"Nope."
"White girl in the horror movie," he muttered, reaching over to flick the burner off, cutting the heat from the burgers. "Can't even recognize danger."
Genna laughed. "Whatever, I know danger. I grew up around danger. That dude was harmless."
"We'll see," Matty said, setting the spatula down. "Come on, let's go."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" She stepped in front of him, blocking his path when he tried to walk away. "Nobody is going anywhere until I get my damn cheeseburger."
Matty turned on his heel, swinging back around to the stove. Grabbing a bun from the fresh pack on the counter, he slapped a burger and a slice of non-melted cheese between it and held it out to her. "Eat in the car."
She took a bite of the burger as she followed him, slipping her feet into a pair of flip-flops in the foyer. She ate as Matty drove them into town, still eating when they pulled up to the garage, finishing chewing as she followed him inside.
"Excuse me?" Matty said, approaching a grubby man with long hair, leaning over the hood of a car. "Are you Chris?"
Genna paused at the entrance. Oh Lord.
The guy motioned toward the other side of the garage. "Chris is over there."
Matty diverted that direction, approaching Chris as he sorted through boxes in the back. It didn't escape Genna's notice that Matty sized him up, his eyes picking the guy apart.
"Chris?" Matty held his hand out when the guy turned around. "I'm Matt. I believe you've already met my wife, Jen."
Wife. That word sent shivers down Genna's spine. She was somebody's wife now.
Chris shook Matty's hand, his gaze shifting her direction. "Yes, of course. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Matty said. "She mentioned something about needing to pick up car parts?"
"Yeah." Chris turned to some boxes before launching into a rundown of whatever he'd ordered for her. Some of it was gibberish to Genna, which made her wonder if she was in over her head, but she smiled like she actually knew what the hell an actuator did. Matty seemed to, though, nodding as the guy talked. Afterward, Matty pulled out his wallet, forking over damn near four hundred dollars for all the parts she got. Whoa.
He carried them to the car with Chris's help, loading the Honda down, the two of them still talking. Matty slid a box into the trunk, slamming it closed, as Chris lingered there.
"North Carolina, huh?" he asked, glancing at the plate, before looking Genna's way. "Thought you were a Jersey girl."
Matty's gaze flickered her way as panic flooded through Genna. Oh shit.
"Transplants," Matty chimed in, his voice casual, but she could tell he wasn't amused. "Stayed in North Carolina for a while, but you know... you never let go of your hometown."
Chris smiled. "Fresno, right here... born and bred."
"As in, California?" Genna asked.
"Is there another Fresno?"
She shrugged, pretty sure there probably shouldn't even be that one. "Let's hope not."
Chris laughed, strolling away. "Hold on a second, got one more thing for you."
When he disappeared back into the garage, Matty took a few steps toward Genna, speaking quietly. "A Jersey girl, are you?"
She made a face, pretending to gag. "Trust me, I got no enjoyment out of calling myself that."
"Then why did you?"
"Jersey phone number," she reminded him.
He looked surprised, like that hadn't registered with him. His gaze flickered to the license plate when Chris reappeared from the garage, carrying a book.
"There's a manual in one of those boxes," he said, "but I thought this might help, too."