No Rep (Madd CrossFit #1) - Lani Lynn Vale Page 0,58
into Murph’s auto shop.
“Can you get Vlad?” she asked.
I nodded and got out of the car, moving to the back passenger side of the van where Vlad’s seat sat.
Once I had him out—and I did have to admit, it was really nice having such a wide opening to get him out as opposed to the small area I had in my car—I brought him up onto my hip before pressing the button to slide the door closed.
When I looked up, it was to find Murphy and Mavis in a silent glare-off.
I blinked, trying not to smile.
My lips weren’t listening to my urging, though, because before I could stop it, a small smile curved up the corners of my lips.
I started snickering when they continued to glare.
“Are we going to do this all day or…” I hedged.
Vlad shrieked when he finally turned and saw the man doing the glaring.
Mavis sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.
“We need you to tell us how to take a driveshaft out.”
Murphy blinked at the two of us, unsure what to say or do in regards to Mavis’s words.
I didn’t even know what to say or do when she came up with her harebrained schemes half the time. Now, I just rolled with it.
Murphy shook his head, as if he was trying to clear the confusion out of his brain before he spoke.
“I’m sorry, but what?” he rumbled.
I studied the man as Vlad practically leaned out of my arms to get to Murphy.
Murphy looked like he’d gladly take him out of my arms, but the fact that his hands and half his body was covered in enough grease to cause Mavis—the woman who hated dirt and grime more than anything in the world—to have an apoplectic fit stilled his movements.
“We need you to teach us how to take out a driveshaft,” Mavis repeated.
I looked at Mavis, then to Murphy who was once again stunned into silence, and grinned.
Mavis and Murphy couldn’t be any more different from each other.
Where Mavis was small, blonde, pale and waifish, Murphy was tall, very strong, and had the most beautiful dark hair that fell perfectly in a messy cascade around his face.
Mavis never left the house in anything but pristine clothing. Murphy looked like he didn’t own clothes that didn’t have grease covering them.
Mavis was the good girl through and through, and Murphy looked like he could be the bad boy that soiled the good girl.
Mavis had a thing for Madden, but if I was being completely honest, I didn’t think she knew what she wanted. She had a dream of a house, two kids, and a dog with a white picket fence. For some reason, she had always pictured a man like Madden being her ‘endgame.’ But Murphy? Murphy looked like he’d set fire to Mavis’s lawn, knock her up with five or ten kids, and enjoy every single second of it.
I couldn’t wait to see how this played out…
Vlad leaned over again.
“Oh, just take him,” Mavis griped.
Murphy took Vlad and grinned as he did, making my heart squeeze at the sight.
Once Vlad was settled in his arms, Murphy looked at Mavis with a frown.
“If I show you, will you leave?” Murphy grumbled.
I looked from Mavis who narrowed her eyes to Murphy who was looking at Vlad as if he were his son, and not some random woman’s he didn’t like.
“Yes,” Mavis replied sweetly.
“If you get in trouble for this, just don’t fuc—freakin’ blame me,” Murphy ordered.
He then proceeded to tell Mavis exactly how to take out a driveshaft.
When he was done, Mavis picked up the wrench that he’d been using and said, “I’ll bring this back in an hour.”
Before Murphy could say a word to the contrary, Mavis had Vlad in her arms, and she was all but marching down the driveway to her minivan.
Before I could move in her direction, Murphy caught my eye as he started to curse. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”
I snorted. “Yeah, like I was ever able to control Mavis Pope.”
Something in Murphy’s eyes hardened at that name, and his face closed down.
I fell into step beside Mavis after giving Murphy a questioning look.
“Why does he hate you so much?” I asked. “Because, I swear, I was getting vibes of him really being into you. While on the other hand, he hated that he was really into you.”
Mavis looked at me. “You don’t remember Murphy, do you?”
I frowned. “I guess not. Why? What am I missing?”
“Do you remember Alessio Romano?” she asked.
The