A Month From Miami Read online

  “Depends who I’m dancing with, I guess.”

  She crossed her arms over her bosom. “Huh. So what are you saying? Bobby Lou didn’t want to dance with me?”

  Rat-a-tat. Rat-a-tat. Five times in quick succession. Kaylee tapped her toe, waiting for a response.

  He rolled the final tire close to the rear passenger side and hoisted it onto the wheel.

  “Well?”

  This time he looked at her directly. “Bobby Lou sounds like a jerk who probably didn’t know what he had until it was gone. Sounds like you’re better off without him.”

  “That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.”

  When Kaylee smiled, Rick almost fell over. He yanked his gaze back to the task at hand trying to remember what it was he was doing. He put the lug nuts in place and hit them with the pneumatic gun.

  He hoped there wasn’t anything too terribly wrong with her car. He wanted Kaylee Walsh out of his garage, out of his town and out of his mind, the sooner the better.

  He’d seen her type before. In fact, he’d married her type. Small-town girls with big dreams and stars in their eyes. Kaylee Walsh was no different from Brenda Larsen Braddock. He’d learned from that mistake. When a woman had her sights set on city lights—and more specifically, city men—it was best not to dissuade her. Because he’d proved himself no match for the lure of Atlanta and the life Brenda had arranged for herself there.

  This time it was Miami, but this woman was no different. She’d be on her way in record time if he had anything to say about it.

  He lowered the hydraulic lift and backed the van out of the garage.

  Signaling to Kaylee he said, “Let’s go then.”

  She followed him to the tow truck which sat in the shade under a towering maple tree. He opened the door for her, wondering if she could even get herself into the cab in those tight pants and ridiculously high heels. She hadn’t walked all the way from the interstate into town in those, had she?

  Kaylee tossed her big black purse onto the high seat, grabbed the door handle with one hand, the edge of the seat with the other and set one foot on the running board.

  “Need some help?” Rick asked, offering her his hand.

  “No, I’m okay.”

  She put her other foot on the edge of the floorboard to haul herself onto the seat. Her foot slipped and she sprawled half-on, half-off the seat, dangling out the door. “Oops.”

  She tried to get a knee under her, but she couldn’t get any purchase on the leather seat. One of her mules fell off. The other dangled precariously from the tips of her toes.

  Rick groaned. At this rate they’d be here all day. Not that he wasn’t enjoying the view. The jeans outlined a near-perfect derriere and emphasized the length and shape of her legs.

  “Could you maybe give me a boost up?” Kaylee asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

  “No problem.” Rick placed his hands on her bottom. The heat of her skin through the tight denim scorched itself all the way to his brain. Old desires tugged at his memory banks, arousing the rest of him.

  “Harder.”

  Harder? In about another ten seconds he’d be rock solid. Is that what she wanted?

  Rick shook his head like a drenched puppy, recalling his circumstances and whereabouts. He gave her a shove, probably more of one than she needed. She slid up into the seat with a surprised oomph.

  While she scrambled to sit up, Rick tossed her shoe in, slammed the door and stomped around to the driver’s side.

  Get hold of yourself, buddy. It’s not like you’ve never had a woman before. Never had your hands on a woman’s— Rick cleared his throat and his mind. Forget it. Don’t even go there.

  He climbed into the cab and started the engine, throwing the switch for the air conditioning on high and turning up the volume on the radio to discourage conversation. Not that it would stop Kaylee Walsh. The only thing he’d found so far that shut her up was staring right into those deep blue eyes of hers and asking her if she ever stopped talking. Only problem was, that seemed to work both ways. Because once he’d asked the question, while looking into her eyes, his mind had gone blank.

  Besides, he knew where the convenience store was. What more did they have to talk about?

  He pulled into the parking lot, and she pointed to her car. Kaylee’s car was an American make and model that hadn’t been popular when it first came out ten years ago. Sales had been so poor, and the vehicles proved so unreliable, the design had been abandoned almost immediately. Rick couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen one on the road. Running.

  He parked next to it and got out, leaving Kaylee to her own devices. The last thing he needed or wanted was to put his hands on her again even under the guise of helping. She opened her door and slid out without his assistance.

  He held out his hand. “Keys?”

  She dug through her massive purse and dropped them into his palm. He opened the door, leaned in and turned the ignition key. Nothing. Not a peep. Not a sound.

  He popped the hood and looked the engine over. Except for a coating of dust and grime, nothing appeared out of place. He checked the hoses and the battery cables, unscrewed the radiator cap to check the fluid level, which looked okay. He took a look underneath the engine for leaks.

  “How old’s your battery?” he asked as he unwound the jumper cables from the front of his truck.

  “Hmm. About six months, I think. Granny Daisy replaced it right before she took real sick.”

  “Been having trouble starting it?”

  Kaylee nodded vigorously. “For a while now. But Old Blue never lets me down.”

  At Rick’s look she added, “Until now, that is.”

  Rick connected the cables to the battery and nodded to her. “Get in and try starting

  it.”

  Kaylee complied. Nothing happened.

  Damn, Rick thought to himself. That meant he’d have to tow it—and her—back to the station.

  Chapter Three

  “So what’s wrong with it?” she asked the moment he put the truck in gear, with Old Blue in tow.

  Rick shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. Could be your alternator. Your starter. Fuel pump.”

  Kaylee cringed. Everything he’d named sounded expensive. She hadn’t counted on car problems taking a bite out of her meager travel funds. As it was, her gas and bubble-gum money would barely get her to Miami.

  She’d tried to save some cash, but Granny Daisy’d been so sick. And Medicare didn’t cover all the doctor bills and prescriptions she’d needed. Somebody had to take care of her, and she’d seen no alternative. All last year she’d worked Friday and Saturday nights at the Shop ’n Save in addition to her hours at the salon just to keep a roof over their heads.

  There was nothing left for her back in Bertie Springs. No one there she loved or who loved her. Not anymore. She’d make a new start, a fresh start in Miami. There she’d earn some real money, enough to rent a place of her own. An apartment right on the beach. Maybe replace Old Blue one of these days. She’d save her money and open a salon of her very own. If she couldn’t get to Miami, she didn’t know what she’d do. She couldn’t go back, and she couldn’t move forward. She’d be stranded in Perrish, Florida forever.

  Fuel pump. “How long will it take to figure out what’s wrong?” she ventured.

  Rick shrugged. “I don’t know.” He glanced at his watch which clung to his wrist courtesy of a worn black leather band.

  Kaylee was a sucker for manly wrists. Rick’s were definitely manly and capable looking, tapering down from muscular forearms lightly coated with dark hair. She yanked her gaze away.

  “Do you, uh, think there could be something clogging it? Like something in the gas tank?”

  Rick gave her a sideways glance. “Most people don’t put anything in their gas tanks except gas, so I’d say it’s highly unlikely that’s the problem.”

  Kaylee decided maybe she should shut up. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the windshield.

  “It’s getting kind of late,” he said. “I won’t be able to do much with it today.”

  Kaylee tried not to panic at the thought of being homeless. She had nowhere to go. No money for a motel. Not that she’d seen anything even remotely resembling a motel in Perrish. She could always sleep in Old Blue, she supposed.

  Rick pulled the truck back into the garage parking lot. An old red Camaro was parked near the pump. Kaylee opened her door and slid out just as Rick came around the back. A tiny, dark-haired moppet sprang from the other vehicle and ran in Rick’s direction.

  “Daddy! Daddy!” Rick swung the little girl up, holding her high overhead. She squealed with delight, before he lowered her. With her arms wrapped around his neck, she kissed him soundly on the cheek.

  Kaylee could not have been more surprised. To say Rick Braddock did not seem the fatherly type would have been a massive understatement. He didn’t look at all domestic. In fact, he looked like a cover model for one of those steamy romance novels she used to sneak peeks at in Poulsen’s Drug Store and Variety back home.

  Rick’s daughter turned to look at Kaylee, giving her the same penetrating once-over Rick had. She had his dark eyes and straight, almost-black hair, but where Rick’s brushed just over his collar, hers fell well past her shoulders.

  “Who are you?” Her tone mixed curiosity with suspicion.

  “Molly,” Rick admonished. “That’s rude. You wait to be introduced next time, okay?”

  His tone was gentle, and Molly didn’t seem the least perturbed by his disapproval.

  Her gaze remained fixed on Kaylee.

  “This is Kaylee Walsh,” Rick said. “Her car broke down. Kaylee, this is Molly.”

  An odd sort of thrill went through her from hearing Rick address her as Kaylee instead of Kay Lee. He was the first person to do so. This was the first step on her transformation from small-town hick to sophisticated city girl.

  Kaylee nodded and couldn’t help but smile at the serious little girl who was so clearly a small, feminine version of her father. “Hi, Molly. It’s nice to meet you.”

  The red Camaro drew closer and the passenger door opened. A girl who couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen stepped out. She nodded at Kaylee, but addressed Rick. “Hey there, Mr. Braddock.”

  “Hi, Tiffany. What’s up?”

  “You remember Joey?” Tiffany gestured to indicate the driver of the car.

  Rick nodded at the kid who couldn’t be much older than his passenger. Joey made a gesture that was half salute and half wave.

  “Here’s the thing. Joey’s band got a month-long gig in Orlando starting this weekend. And well, I want to go with him. Do you think you can find someone to watch Molly until school starts? I don’t want to leave you in the lurch, but this is their big break.” The girl peered up at him with her big brown eyes.

  Rick frowned. “Wow, Tif. That’s kind of a big bomb to drop on me, don’t you think?”

  Tiffany’s eyes welled with tears. “I know, Mr. Braddock. My mom won’t let me go unless you say it’s okay. She said I have to see my commitments through. But the thing is...” She glanced away, blinking rapidly, before her gaze came back to Rick’s. “I’ve been stuck in this town my whole life. Sometimes I feel like I’ll never get out. And if I don’t go now, I don’t know what I’ll do.” She sniffed. A couple of tears ran down her face. “My aunt lives in Winter Park. She said I can stay with her. Maybe I can go to school there. But if you can’t find anyone else, I won’t go.” Tiffany held back a sob.

  Rick shifted Molly to his other side. “I’m not sure I can find someone to take over on such short notice.”

  Tiffany nodded. Tears began to flow in earnest. “I understand. But I had to ask. It’s okay, Mr. Braddock. I won’t go.”

  A few seconds of awkward silence slipped by before Rick said, “Go.”

  Tiffany’s head came up. “What?”

  “I don’t want to be the reason you’re stuck here. I’ll figure something out until school starts.”

  “Really, Mr. Braddock? You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Wow, Mr. Braddock. Thanks.” She stood on tiptoe and pecked Rick’s cheek, then Molly’s.

  “Bye, Molly. You be a good girl.” The girl waved and drove away, leaving the three of them standing there together.

  Now what? Kaylee wondered.

  Rick set Molly on her feet, but she clung to his hand staring up at Kaylee with undisguised curiosity. Kaylee glanced at Rick.

  “I don’t have—”

  “There’s a—”

  They’d started to speak at the same time and stopped just as abruptly.

  “Sorry,” Kaylee said. “Go ahead.”

  “I was going to say there’s a motel near the interstate off the next exit, about ten miles from here.”

  Kaylee shifted uncomfortably, her little toes protesting the movement. She involuntarily winced. She glanced at Molly. The little girl’s dark eyes looked old somehow, as if they’d seen too much and she couldn’t be surprised.

  Nervously, Kaylee dug through her bag for her bubble gum. She offered a piece to Molly who looked at Rick. He nodded his approval before she accepted it.

  Kaylee started to put the pack of gum back in her purse, but then remembered her manners and offered it to Rick.

  A corner of his mouth quirked up at the gesture. “No thanks. I’m trying to quit.”

  Kaylee’s brow puckered as she returned the gum to her purse. Could Rick Braddock, beneath his tough-guy appearance, harbor a sense of humor?

  Molly busied herself with unwrapping the gum while Kaylee addressed Rick. Honesty is the best policy. She could hear Granny Daisy’s admonition echoing in her head before she spoke.

  “I can’t afford a motel. I figure I’ve got enough cash to buy gas until I get to Miami. I wasn’t counting on—” her gaze slid to Old Blue still attached to the back of Rick’s tow truck, “—car trouble.”

  Rick didn’t appear surprised by Kaylee’s revelation.

  “She can stay with us, can’t she, Dad?” Molly tugged on Rick’s hand, speaking around her mouthful of bubble gum.

  “Molly, I don’t think—”

  “Why not?” Molly asked. “Miss Tiffany says I need a babysitter. Why can’t Kaylee babysit me?”

  “Molly, I don’t know—”

  “You know anything about babysitting kids?” Molly demanded of Kaylee.

  Kaylee grinned down at the little girl who was doing her best to get her wad of bubble gum under control by chomping on it with all her might between questions. “I sure do. Why, back home, I watched little critters like you all the time.”

  “You talk funny,” Molly said.

  “Molly.” Rick’s pained expression was an apology for his daughter’s comment.

  Kaylee could hardly be offended. “That’s ’cause I’m from Tennessee. But you know what, Molly? Everyone has an accent. If I took you back home to Bertie Springs, people would say you talked funny.”

  “Really?” Molly’s eyes widened. “I don’t talk funny.” Her gaze swung to Rick. “Do I, Daddy?”

  “No, but you look funny.”

  “Daddy! I do not.” Molly giggled. She clearly knew her father was joking with her.

  Rick glanced at his watch again, then he looked at Kaylee. “I’ve got a softball game at seven. If you want to come home with us for tonight, I’ll take a look at your car tomorrow.”

  Was Rick Braddock completely clueless? Kaylee wondered. He’d barely batted an eyelash before inviting a virtual stranger into his home. What was he thinking?

  Even though she had nowhere else to go, she felt duty-bound to question his offer. “Are you sure? I mean, you hardly know me.”

  “You look pretty harmless to me. What are you trying to say? You’re a serial killer or something?”

  “No, of course not.” But I unknowingly transport valuable gemstones across state lines.

  “What’s a cereal killer, Daddy?” Molly wanted to know.

  Rick glanced down at her. “Somebody who uses corn flakes for target practice.”

  He brought his attention back to Kaylee. “You want a place to stay tonight or not?”

  Kaylee chewed the inside of her lip, wishing she’d opened a piece of gum for herself when she’d given one to Molly. “Uh, what about your wife? She might have something to say about this.”

  Rick pinned her again with those dark eyes as if considering her question before he answered. “Ex-wife. She doesn’t have much of anything to say to me these days.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Kaylee gave him a weak smile.

  Courtesy of Rick’s little girl, Kaylee wasn’t homeless anymore. At least for the moment. Gratitude clogged her throat. “Thanks, then. If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he pointed out.

  Rick released Old Blue from the hoist and loaded most of Kaylee’s luggage into the back of the truck. Kaylee sat with Molly near the front door of the station while several customers came by to retrieve their repaired vehicles. A few greeted Molly by name. All of them sent friendly but curious glances in Kaylee’s direction. Around five she heard the overhead garage doors roll down. Rick came out and locked the front door, and the three of them piled in the cab of his truck. Molly sat in the middle, chewing her gum and pointing out the local sights to Kaylee.

  “That’s where I go to Sunday School,” she said, as they passed a small, white steepled church. Her head swiveled in Kaylee’s direction. “Do you go to Sunday School?”

  Kaylee nodded. “I used to. I haven’t been in a while.”

  “How come?”

  “My granny was real sick before she died. I took care of her so I sort of missed Sunday School.”

  Molly’s little hand patted Kaylee’s knee. “That’s too bad.” After a minute she said, “Miss Tiffany’s kitty cat died. She was real sad. But I don’t think she missed Sunday School.”

  “No, probably not.”

  Within minutes Rick turned into a narrow, graveled drive and parked in front of a flat-roofed house nearly obscured from view by the trees and tropical foliage surrounding it.