After the nightmare he’d grown up in, he didn’t want it. That kind of sick, that poison, it coated every inch of you, dug deep. He’d rather be six feet under than unleash that kind of hell on anyone. Wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.

He glanced out the window to the front parking lot again and mentally shook off the direction his thoughts had gone. That’s when he saw a black Ford pickup, green flames licking up and across the rounded hood, roll in and park out front.

She’d come.

The door opened and one long leg appeared a second before Rusty stepped out in her beaten work boots.

In that moment he realized just how hungry for another glimpse of her he’d been. Her red hair was tied up, and she wore a dark green tank and a pair of black cutoff shorts, frayed and worn and molded to her hips like a second skin.

Shoving her hands in her pockets, she strode through the door, gaze constantly moving, taking everything in, those intelligent, wary eyes missing nothing.

He didn’t rush out to meet her, instead he watched from the internal window facing the workshop as she stepped inside. He also watched as, one by one, his boys tagged her, until nearly every pair of eyes in the place had lifted and locked on her.

Rusty’s shoulders straightened, and she sucked on her bottom lip. She didn’t appreciate the attention, not one bit. Granted they were a rough bunch—guys that’d had it tough, and it showed—but he didn’t think that was what had her freezing up.

The only guy not focused on her was Dominic. The kid had his head down, trying to bang out the dents in a door panel, and Rusty headed straight to him.

The least threatening option.

The kid’s head came up when she touched his shoulder, eyes going wide, face turning a volcanic shade of red when he got a look at her. He couldn’t blame him. The smile she offered his apprentice was stunning. She said something, and Dom smiled shyly, motioning to the panel he was working on. Reid found himself grinning when she took the hammer from the boy and started showing him what he’d been doing wrong, instructing him the whole time. Poor Dom looked as if he’d swallowed his tongue, while the other guys stood like statues, as mesmerized by her as he’d been the first time he’d seen her in a pair of coveralls and a welder in her hand.

A foreign emotion suddenly flared to life, bright and near violent. Jealousy. He’d never felt jealous over a woman in his life. He tamped it down, got a handle on it before he stupidly stormed out there and showed them exactly why it wasn’t a good idea to look at what he considered his. That wouldn’t do him any favors, not with Rusty and not with the guys who trusted him. It was also a flashing red light, a warning that he shouldn’t go anywhere near the tempting redhead. That even thinking about it was a fucking stupid idea, for many reasons.

She straightened, handed his hot-faced apprentice back his hammer, and said something that had the boy smiling and stammering a response before motioning to Reid’s office. Rusty smiled at the kid, so bright even he felt the power of it. Dom looked close to falling on his ass as she sauntered off, leaving him openmouthed and no doubt as hard as the steel he’d been pounding.

As she neared, her gaze lifted and caught his, and he was sure he saw that fire flash behind her eyes, saw her draw in a deep breath, like she was preparing for battle.

Bring it, Foxy.

He opened the door and waited for her to walk through. “You finished instructing my apprentice?”

She shrugged. “Someone had to show him what he was doing wrong.”

Stopping just inside, she tipped her head back, heart-shaped face staring up at him. He could see now, she was pissed, fuming, despite all the smiles. Proving his first impression correct: she was smart, she was quick, and she knew exactly what he’d done to get her here.

Which meant his only option was to change tack before he blew it completely.

“Filler’s over there.” He jerked his head to where the buckets were stacked, then walked to his desk, planted his ass, and looked down at the invoices he’d been going over before she arrived, essentially ignoring her. Which wasn’t easy. Not at all. “You need a hand carrying it to your truck? I can get one of the boys to help,” he said without looking up.

She was silent for several seconds, hopefully reassessing the situation. “How the hell did it get here in the first place, Parker?”

He could hear the accusation in her voice, and since she’d chosen to call him by his last name instead of Chuckles, he knew she wasn’t in the mood to mess around.

She didn’t trust him, and after the reaction she’d gotten from his boys when she arrived, he could guess why. Rusty didn’t trust men full-stop. It should give him pause. But he was an asshole, and bottom line, he wanted her. It would make winning her over more difficult, but not impossible.

“How the fuck would I know? They’re in the way. I want them gone. You want help carting them or not?” He glanced up in time to see her eyes widen. He’d shocked her. Good.

She covered it quickly, then shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

Why didn’t that surprise him? Stubborn as hell.

She picked up one of the buckets with a soft grunt and lugged it out the door. It was hard, but he stayed at his desk, even though letting her carry them on her own did not sit well with him. But he kept his ass glued to his seat.

She came and went three more times, and each time she walked through the workshop her gaze drifted to the cars they were working on. Yeah, her curiosity was piqued. Would she do anything about it?

He watched as she loaded the last one, the bright oranges, pinks, and greens of the flowers and leaves inked on her arms glistening from the fine coat of sweat covering her smooth skin. Closing the tailgate on her truck, she blew out a breath, then brushing back the strands of hair that had broken free around her face, rounded the pickup and opened the driver’s door.

She was going to get in and drive away. He’d played it wrong.

But then she just stood there, frozen, head down, staring at her boots.

Come on, Foxy. You know you want to.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, and she shook her head, muttering something to herself before she slammed the door shut again, shoved her keys in her pocket, and headed back.

He kept his head down as she stomped into his office, loudly, and moved to stand beside him. “So…”

“You finished?”

She shifted from foot to foot. “Yeah.” Her voice had lost the pissed edge, and she sounded a little unsure.

He glanced up, leaned back in his chair. “Sorry I couldn’t get one of the guys to deliver it earlier, but we’ve been busy.” He offered up a half-assed smile and glanced at the clock. “Right, well…I better get back to work.”

She was about to turn and leave, then stopped again. She looked uncomfortable, nervous, which surprised him. She’d seemed fearless. “Is that offer still open or what?” she blurted.

Crossing his arms, he did his best not to let a triumphant grin break free. “You want me to show you around the shop?”

“Yeah, sure. If you’re cool with that?” She bit her lower lip, emphasizing the fuller top one, and an innocence that contradicted wildly with the image she showed to the rest of the world slid forward. It struck him with force, made his gut twist and his cock get hard.

He cleared his throat. “I can do that. But like I said, we’re busy. Come back after we close up, and I’ll be happy to.” He gave her another barely there smile and let a little sarcasm slip into his voice. “You are the competition, right? Wouldn’t be good business to show you all our secrets.”

The spark flickered back to life, the fire now front and center. “Worried?”

“Not in the slightest. You think if I was, I’d offer what I am? Just trying to prove a point, sweetheart. You threw it down, and I don’t ignore a challenge, or a chance to prove someone wrong. That’s as deep as it goes.”