Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 59(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 59(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
GRUMP TOWN
Grumpy Mechanic
by
LENA LITTLE
A Grumpy meets Sunshine, instalove romance (after a little intstalust is thrown into the toolbox). A sweet, small-town slice of life story which will warm your heart and arouse your interest in all those dirty, grimy, greasy, gritty parts that make life interesting. Remote locations on the edge of town - big storms, and plenty of slippin' and a slidin' on this journey.
Hold on to the wheel!
Madison
My car conking out on a dark and stormy night signals the end of an era and the beginning of something surprisingly beautiful. Never in my soggiest dreams did I picture a tall, brooding mechanic begrudgingly coming to my rescue.
Chase and I may be the same age but getting him to smile through the rain is like dragging my rickety and unreliable car through six inches of fresh mud. Despite his grumpy exterior, a night stuck together reveals he's as soft as the leather interior of a luxury convertible dropping its top. Convertibles aren't the only thing dropping their tops.
Chase fixes my car faster than my heart flipping over the possibility of falling for a man who works so well with his hands. Those same hands work their magic over my body after meeting at his body shop.
Hesitation puts this passion on a lift to see if this is a temporary fix or if we're in this for the long haul. Only time can tell if Chase's patchwork is enough to get my car back on the road, and my heart on the road to love.
This is a short, steamy, small town, grumpy/sunshine romance.
No OM / OW drama and no cliffhangers. No ddlg. No virgins. No man-whores.
Always a sweet HEA.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
The melodic rumbling of my car shaking as I drive out of town to my newest listing doesn't give me the same vibes as listening to my favorite pop star belt out her list of ex-lovers. Even worse is the sound of the rumbling coming from under my car matches the vigorous gyrations of my steering wheel. This can't be good.
Luckily, there's a body shop and gas station coming up on the side of the road. Pulling my 2004 Honda into the place feels like the best thing to do right now. It's quiet, and while the lights are on, there's no sign of life.
"This is how horror movies start, Maddie," I whisper to myself as I take hesitant steps into the store attached to the body shop.
The bell chimes over the door as I look around for an employee. It's clean, and the items on the shelves look fresh enough. At least it doesn't look abandoned. Still, a zombie menace could pop out at any minute.
"Um, hello?" I call out as I approach the counter, where there's a door that obviously leads into the mechanic portion of the building. My heart races with every step I take closer to the door. I just want to ask whoever is in charge to take a look at my car.
There are grinding noises coming from behind the door that make me nervous. It sounds like heavy machinery, but I can't be sure without stepping through the door. I don't want to take a chance to walk back there. I'm already behind the shop's counter.
"Excuse me?" I call out even louder into the noisy shout, keeping myself behind the door next to the counter and register. The machinery stops, but the wind outside is blowing something fierce. I need to get to the house I'm renovating and back home as soon as possible.
"What are you doing back here?" a deep voice questions from behind me.
A yelp escapes my throat as I whip around to see a handsome face behind the terrifying voice heavy with accusation.
"Holy hell, where did you come from? I'm, um, sorry," I spew out.
My mind is battling itself from lusting after this hunk of a man and outright terror because I psyched myself into thinking this is the setting of a jump scare. Finally, my voice pushes through my fear, and I smile. "My car is making a noise and rattling as I drive. I just wanted to know if someone was around to take a look at it."
Soft brown eyes take me in from head to toe, pulling my attention to the chiseled features of his face. An angular jaw rests under a beard just growing in and runs down over the bulge in his throat. He smells like motor oil and pine trees, and dirt smudges over his jumpsuit and hands make him look like he's been fighting fires.
"You can pull it 'round to the garage," he mutters before stepping out of my way.
I can feel his penetrating gaze follow me out of the store, and I toss another smile over my shoulder.
"Thank you for doing this," I tell him.
"Well, I don't want you stranded out here." He huffs and walks by me to hold the door open.
The coldness of the afternoon air has nothing on his icy demeanor. I bring my car around the side of the building and into the garage. There are two seats next to the door where I park myself until the hunk of the mechanic gives me some good news. At least, I hope there is good news.
Thankfully, I don't have to focus on the handsome stranger too long as my phone rings. My dad's smiling face as he squeezes me and my sisters in his embrace flashes across my screen.
"Hey, Dad," I answer with far too much enthusiasm.
"What's wrong?" he asks immediately.
"Nothing, I swear it's not that bad."
Dad grumbles into the phone, "What happened, Maddie?"
"My steering column started shaking," I admit quietly.
"Didn't I tell you to junk that thing? Where are you? I'll close the practice up and come get you."
"No, Dad, don't be ridiculous. I'm at Chase Auto Body right outside of town. They're going to take a look at it. Those fur babies need you, so stay in the office, and if I need a ride, I'll call Kenny. She owes me a ride anyway," I smile as pictures of my sister and her new beau flash across my mind. Happiness looks good on her.
"Okay, well, call her now," Dad says. "There's a storm coming in, and I don't want either one of you out there. Those roads get sloppier than pigs taking mud baths. Call me when you get home, and look into junking that thing."
"Dad, you and Mom gave that car to me for my eighteenth birthday. I can't let it go," I tell him without saying it feels like I'd be letting Mom go if I got rid of the car.