Smoke (The Carelli Family Saga #1) - Eden Butler Page 0,14

I held up one filthy, oil-drenched finger before lifting a second. “Slide a container to catch oil underneath and locate the drain plug.” And a third. “Unscrew. Watch for the oil as it comes out. At no time did you say, ‘watch out for the damn geyser that will spew from the pan and oh, by the way, it’s gonna soak your head and face and hands, Maggie’—it’s not funny!”

The asshole rolled onto his back, laughing so loud his face had gone red and he wiped at his eyes. “Shit, bella, it is funny.”

He turned on his side, still grinning like an idiot when I replaced the brush gasket, the laughter subsiding only slightly as I refastened the bolt with the wrench.

“I…honestly didn’t think you were serious about all this,” he admitted, looking up at me from the ground as I turned, frowning down at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious about this?”

“A story my folks told me…about when they met.” Smoke softened his features, his expression easy, traces of his laughter still in the lightness of his eyes and the small grin on his face.

“How did they meet?”

He hesitated, just watching me, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring up something so personal. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge, and though the Carelli’s were friendly, kind people, they were private. But Smoke only hesitated a second longer before he scooted closer, ignoring the small protest I made before he took the wrench from me and finished fastening the bolt as though he needed something to do to distract himself.

“Pop worked at this garage back on Staten Island. He’d been there since high school, trying like hell not to be like his—” he stopped, not looking at me before he corrected himself— “trying to make his way different from his family’s.” Mr. Carelli hadn’t been part of his father and brother’s business, the illegal business, and I’d heard rumors it had been a struggle for Smoke’s parents because of it. They’d worked hard for every dime they had.

“So, he worked long hours and did all the jobs nobody wanted. Dealt with the housewives who didn’t want their men knowing they’d busted up their cars or the families that couldn’t afford to pay up front. He got a reputation for doing good work and for being a good man.”

“I’m not surprised,” I told him, smiling at the slow shake of Smoke’s head.

“So that kind of reputation, that kind of man, being the good-looking sort like most Carelli men are…” Smoke turned to me, shooting me a wink that pulled a laugh from me, before he continued, “you can imagine there were a lot of women coming by trying to get his attention.”

“Or cheap labor.”

“Yeah, that too.” Smoke nodded to the oil pan, then slid out from underneath the car, leaning down to help me up. He handed over a few more paper towels and we both continued to clean away the oil residue before he lowered the hydraulic and brought my Subaru back to the ground. Then, he lifted the hood and pointed to the bright blue oil filter marked with the word “Engine” along the center.

I reached for it, unfastening the cylinder filter like he’d instructed me before we started and grabbed a can of fresh motor oil to lubricate the new filter, rubbing the oil around the opening as Smoke watched me, nodding when I replaced it.

“So, you’re dad…”

“So, Pop kept getting this one girl coming in, cute little thing he said, big mouth, pretty face, bossy as hell. Every week for over a month. One week it was the tires. One was flat. He fixed the flat tire. Next week, another one was balled. He replaced that one.”

“She had excuses?” I asked, grabbing the yellow oil cap and removing it.

Smoke leaned against the car, nodding, handing over a well-used funnel to slip it inside. “She was relentless but full of attitude, telling him every week his work was ‘okay’ and that she thought his prices could be better and when the tires were all new and perfect, she started having problems with her transmission, then something funky with the engine.”

I poured the motor oil into the funnel, grinning at the smirk on Smoke’s face, already guessing who the woman had been. From the sound of her, Mrs. Carelli hadn’t changed much. “He didn’t figure it out?”

“Took him a while and even then, she had to help him with it. Wasn’t until she had her car towed to his shop