Smoke (The Carelli Family Saga #1) - Eden Butler Page 0,13

the women in town—a big lot of them who probably thought Smoke hung the moon, no matter if it fit in with my way of thinking.

Spotting the little jar on the corner of her till, the one with the picture of the too thin kids with no summer meals and the sweet faces, I paused, digging in my purse for a twenty.

“Uh, you have a good afternoon…” I told the woman, stuffing the cash into the nearly empty jar before I grabbed Smoke and my bag and hustled us both out of the store.

“Stubborn…ridiculous…” he was saying, laughing as we moved down the sidewalk.

“Oh, shut up!”

“She was being sweet.” He paused at the intersection, taking the bag from me despite me trying to hold onto it. “And,” he continued when I frowned at him, “she’s harmless.”

“This whole town is harmless,” I admitted, following at his side as we moved through the intersection and down the sidewalk that led to his building. “And they seem to make a lot of assumptions…” I let the statement hang, not wanting to bring up a conversation I was sure Smoke didn’t want to have. We’d never discussed a relationship between us because of the impossibility of it all. It was established from the beginning, and no matter how many times I ended up in his bed, that wasn’t going to change.

Smoke nodded to Mr. Confer, a tall man in his forties with a kind face and a salt and pepper beard I’d seen coaching the pee wee football team in the park every Saturday morning, but kept his attention on the street and the cars and small crowd that congregated near the bakery and coffee shop. “It makes sense. You’re around. The kid, he’s around a lot…”

“We…don’t have to be.”

Smoke slowed his steps but didn’t stop, moving just behind me like he thought about turning around but changed his mind. “No,” he said, catching up and shooting a look at me I couldn’t read. “You don’t.” Then, he stretched his neck, a habit I’d noticed he had anytime he was irritated or tired. “But, I’m used to the kid yanking on my chain and I’m used to you yanking on my—”

I jabbed him in the ribs before he could finish, laughing until my throat ached as we moved down the sidewalk. “You’re annoying.”

“A little,” he admitted, “but I serve a purpose.” When Smoke looked at me the way he did just then, my head went a little fuzzy and I forgot about those rules we’d established when this all started. For a second, I let myself forget about all the impossibilities.

“Si,” I said, staring at his mouth, then quickly glancing at his eyes, blinking when he curled an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “But…” I put a few steps between us, reminding myself that wasn’t what I needed from him today. “On today’s agenda is an oil change lesson.”

“Fine, bella…” He grabbed me again, moving his mouth to my ear, making his voice deep, teasing. “Then let’s get dirty…”

“Did I get it all?” I didn’t trust his grin. Or that smirk. Or the way Smoke kept nodding. It was too quick. Like he was full of shit and wanted me to believe he wasn’t. “Where’s the damn mirror?”

“You can’t be worried about what you look like in the middle of an oil change, bella.”

“I’m not, Mr. Carelli.” He laughed—he’d been doing an annoying lot of that shit— clearly amused by me exaggerating his last name. “I’m worried that I still have oil all over my face because someone didn’t tell me about how much oil would still be in the pan when I released the drain plug.” The thick scent of the oil coiled into the back of my throat, not helping to ease the soreness I felt there.

“I did warn you.”

“Liar…”

“In fact,” he slid the pan out of the way, stretching an arm toward me to wipe the crumbled paper towel across my forehead, “I think I said, ‘head’s up,’ just before you pulled the plug out.”

That smile was lethal, and it was the only thing saving him from a full throttling as we hunched under my Outback. “Yelling ‘head’s up’ isn’t exactly giving me all the instruction I need to do this right.”

Smoke whistled, holding up his hands like he was ready to give up. “I went over the instructions before we got your Subaru off the ground. Step by step.”

“Pfftt. You’re full of shit. ‘Jack up the car.’”

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