Connelly's Flame (21 page)

were braced as she cut a precise line through the roof.

“You want to keep the windshield, Shawn?” Her question rang through the shop as she turned off her

saw.

“What do you think?” Shawn asked, looking up at her.

Hoisting the saw over her shoulder, she thought for a moment. “I think you will want one. Taking

this off-road you are gonna want a bit of protection from the branches.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, smiling as she nodded and pull-started the saw, once again intent on

her work.

Ross walked in and moved to where Shawn was back to work. Gray eyes took in how the man wore

jeans, hiking boots, and a shirt that showed off his muscles. Ross didn’t like that at all. “What’s going on?”

he asked as he stopped by the shinning brush guard.

Blue eyes looked up from where they had been focused. “Hey, Ross,” Shawn said easily. “Phoenix is

helping me with my Bronco.”

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A loud crash grabbed both men’s attention. The top was off; Dezarae shut off the saw and smiled at

Shawn first and then turned her attention to Ross. “Hey, Ross. Thanks for getting food.” Her dark eyes

moved back to the blue ones of her friend. “All we have to do is smooth these out and attach your winch and

guard and you are ready. Oh, and I have some better tires for you. Twenty-inchers.”

“You, Phoenix…you rock,” Shawn said as he walked over to her and took the saw, allowing her to

jump out easily.

She nudged him. “My pleasure, sorry that it took so long to get the winch you wanted in.”

“You will receive no complaints from me.” He set the saw back in its appropriate place.

Ross interrupted, not liking how they were ignoring him. “How long has this been going on?”

“We have been doing this for a month now,” Dezarae said. “Our schedules don’t always work well

together and with the show I wasn’t around to do it.”

“Can I help with anything?” Ross offered, not wanting to leave them alone together any longer.

“Sure, you can help us put on the guard and winch,” Dezarae said with ease.

“Works for me,” Ross responded as he moved next to his woman.

Three hours later, the Bronco hit the floor. “There you go, Shawn. Looks great.” Dezarae smiled.

“Sure looks different, don’t it, Phoenix?” Shawn asked.

“Good thing you wanted it to.”

“Thanks so much, girl. It is more than I could have dreamed.” Shawn kissed her on the cheek and

jumped into the driver’s seat, his hands moving lovingly over the interior.

“You are most welcome, my friend. Most welcome.” Dezarae stepped back next to Ross and waved

as Shawn started out of the shop.

“I put the money in your account, Phoenix. Thanks again!” Shawn yelled over the roar of the engine.

Then he was gone.

“Bye, Shawn,” she whispered as her eyes took in the man beside her. “How did it go in town?”

“I missed you,” Ross said, pulling her into his arms.

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Leaning easily against his hard chest, Dezarae smiled. “You weren’t gone that long. And I saw you

this morning.”

“Yes, what a lovely way to wake up, you sprawled all over me.” He inhaled the smell of cut metal

and Dezarae. Who knew a car shop could turn a man on like this? There weren’t even pictures of women in

bikinis on the walls. “Are you saying you didn’t miss me?”

“I’m saying I was working. Which I have to get back to, so if you will excuse me.” She moved out of

his embrace and began to sweep up the metal particles.

Ross let her go and watched her.
Talk to her, man, ask her about Charmane.
Biting his lip, he

hesitated. He had no idea on how to broach the subject. She was an exceptionally busy woman; how could he

ask her to take on the added responsibility of watching and raising his child while he was off wherever the

world needed him?

“What’s the matter with you, Johnny Reb? You look really confused.” Dezarae’s voice broke into his

musings.

With a frown, he glared at her. “Why are you still calling me that?”

“I don’t know. Does it really bother you?” she asked as she used the broom to prop up her arms.

“Yes, I don’t want you to think of me in a bad way.”

“What way am I supposed to think about you?” Dezarae arched an eyebrow.

“As your lover, boyfriend.”
Husband.

“Lover? Boyfriend?” Chocolate eyes were wide.

Don’t forget husband, Firebird, don’t forget husband.
“What?” Ross narrowed his eyes at her. “That

doesn’t sound like a plan to you?”

“I think that we’re getting ahead of ourselves a bit, don’t you?” Dezarae said. “I mean, we aren’t

even dating. So I am not going to think of you as a lover.”

His eyes flashed gray diamonds. “I wanted to go on a date with you. I
want
to date you. And I am

damn
sure we are lovers. I don’t know what else you would call what we have been doing with one another

during hidden moments.” He stalked up to her, anger radiating from every pore of his body. “I am your lover,

Firebird. I am your lover and your boyfriend. Just as you are my lover and my girlfriend.”

A small grin flitted across her face.
God, I could fall in love with this man so easily. Who am I

kidding? I am in love with him.
“You are very sure of yourself there, Mr. Ross Murdock Connelly.”

“I have every reason to be, Ms. Dezarae Phoenix Kerry. We both know it is true.” He crossed strong

arms over his torso and dared her to refute him.

“Don’t you think you should ask a girl first? I mean isn’t that how it used to work, a man would
ask

a woman if she wanted to be his girlfriend. He didn’t dictate it to her,” Dezarae said as she crossed her arms

as well, bringing his attention to her full chest.

One half of his mouth turned up in a sexy smile. “Is that what you need; a man to
ask
you to be his

girlfriend?”

Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Well, a man would be a great start. And then yes, I would like him

to ask, not assume.”

The forge was lit beneath the steel of his eyes making them heat up. “Oh, your man is here, no doubt

about that. And we are about to take care of the asking.” Dropping his arms from his chest, he reached for

one of her hands and pulled her closer to him. In his slow Southern drawl Ross asked, “I don’t have a piece

of paper to write it on and put the boxes for the checkmarks, but would you be my girl, Dezarae? Will you be

my steady?”

Biting the inside of her lip to keep the tears at bay Dezarae graced him with a full-blown smile. “If I

had the paper, I would check yes.” She blinked her fathomless eyes and leaned in to kiss him.

Ross met her halfway, easily drawing her in closer to his body. He caught her sigh in his mouth as

his hands slid down to cup her denim-clad ass.

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Dezarae wrapped her hands around his waist, allowing herself to be supported by his solid wall of

strength. She whimpered as her body pressed closer and closer to his. A flood of wetness coursed through her

as her body responded to his touch.

“So this is why I couldn’t find anyone in the house.” Charmane’s voice filled the garage.

Dezarae tried to bolt out of Ross’s arms but he held her immobile. Shaking his head at her slightly,

he turned them both to face his daughter. “Dezarae agreed to be my girlfriend.”

Mortified beyond belief that Charmane had caught them kissing, Dezarae put her face into his chest,

only to pull away as she heard, “Wonderful. I think you two make a great couple.”

“See, Firebird, she loves you,” Ross whispered as he smiled at his daughter.

“I have to get to work,” Dezarae said, using her only means available to escape.

Ross knew what she was doing. Doubt filled him as he saw her withdrawing into her shell. Did she

only want him to know they were a couple? Did she not want everyone to know? “Well, we will let you do

that, then. Call if you need help,” he said as he tipped her face up for a quick kiss. “Let’s go, Charmane, she

has work to do. You and I will begin dinner.”

“Okay, Daddy.” The young teen smiled widely at Dezarae’s flushed face before she turned and ran

after her father.

Finally alone in her shop, Dezarae sat down at her desk. Her body was a conflicting mess of

emotions. “Oh, Papa, I wish you were here. I need some advice,” she said to the framed picture of her father

that sat on the desk.

With a sigh, she stood and looked at the cars in her shop. A grin crossed her dark beauty. Although

in rough shape, she had a shop full of wonderful vehicles.

Her eyes fell first upon the Citroën. It was a 1955 Citroën DS. A French car. A pale jade-green color

was what she was imagining for this car. Not a car that she would pick for herself normally. It was a pain to

work on; the fender had to be removed just to change a tire, not that it was a problem to remove that one bolt,

just annoying. But the money she would get was well worth it.

Then they moved on to the Porsche. A 1965 Porsche 911. German engineering at some of its finest.

Top speed was132 miles per hour and going from zero to sixty in nine seconds. This car she imagined a

pearly-gray color.

The Lamborghini drew her eyes next. A 1971 Lamborghini Miura SV. The top speed was over 174

miles per hour and it could go from zero to sixty in 6.8 seconds. A five-speed manual, this car begged to be

driven fast. A shiny metallic-blue and silver was preordained for this car.

“God, I love my job,” she said as she spun around in the shop. “I love my job!” Dezarae walked over

to the ’55 Citroën. “Well Frenchie, I guess I’m gonna start with you.” Slipping on her coveralls Dezarae got

to work, dismantling the beat-up vehicle.

She needed to fix the swiveling headlights, the hydraulics that gave the DS the ability to rise up on

its suspension to allow for underneath looks or going over bumpy terrain. The fiberglass roof needed work.

The hydropneumatic suspension was shot and needed to get a new pressurized hydraulic system, for it ran

the power-assisted steering, brakes, and semi-automatic gearshift.

The rear panels had some dents in them that needed to be taken out and the gearshift needed work. It

was with a smile that she opened the hood and looked at the engine.

“Come inside and eat, Firebird. It’s late.” Ross’s voice took the place of the music that played

throughout the shop.

Looking over her shoulder at the man who seemed to suck all the air from her body she smiled.

“Hey, Ross.”

He smiled at her grease-streaked face, and the sparkle in her eyes. “Dinner’s ready. Charmane

cooked and she says it’s time to eat.” Ross moved towards her and looked under the hood at the mess that

was there. “You know you look adorable covered in grease.”

“Wow Jo…Ross, you really know how to sweet talk a gal,” Dezarae teased.

Ross was touched at her attempt to not call him Johnny Reb. “If my daughter wasn’t waiting for us

with dinner, I would sweet talk you right out of your coveralls.”

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“Oh, I don’t think you need to sweet talk me out of them. I will take them off for you right now.”

Dezarae unzipped her jumpsuit and shoved it to the floor. “You will have to do some fancy chittin’ and

chattin’ to get me out of these clothes, though.”

Kissing her hard and quick, Ross picked up her discarded coveralls and draped them over a stool.

“Don’t tease me, Firebird,” he warned.

“Isn’t dinner waiting?”

“You know you are going to be my dessert.” He kissed her again, smacked her on the ass, and led

her out of the shop into the cool evening.

“I can hardly wait,” she drawled looking at him from under lowered lashes.

His hand gravitated back to her ass as they walked in the house. “That makes two of us,” he said in a

low voice as Charmane looked at them.

“What took you so long to get here?” Charmane asked as they took their seats.

“I had to drag her out from under the hood of her car,” Ross answered.

“Sorry,” Dezarae said. Having someone cook for her was new. “Looks great.”

Charmane smiled. “Thanks.” The dinner consisted of a large salad, spaghetti, garlic bread and a

wonderful-smelling sauce.

Dinner was wonderful and Ross helped Dezarae clean up; Charmane sat in the living room and

watched television.

“Do you usually lose track of time like you did today out in the shop?” Ross asked as he began to

wash the dishes.

Holding a drying towel, Dezarae nodded. “Quite often. I get so into my work I lose track of time.

Which is why I have a bed out there…that and a small fridge that has water and some snack food in it.”

Shaking his head, he continued to wash, “You are going to kill yourself working this hard.”

“I am not working that hard. No harder than anyone else.” She put away the dried plates.

“Do you ever wish you could give it all up and start over doing something else?” Ross asked, putting

his eyes on her.

“Nope,” Dezarae said immediately. “There is something magical about taking a car that is dented,

rusty, and not running properly and making it like new. I get such pride from watching people look at the car

they left with me in a new light. I don’t know anything else, and I feel close to my papa when I am out in the

garage or shop. We had great talks out there.” She smiled as she wiped off more dishes and put them away.