Scrap Metal (Midwest Kisses Book 1) Read online

  SCRAP METAL

  (Midwest Kisses #1)

  by

  Alexi Raymond and Jennah Scott

  Copyright © 2015 Jennah Scott

  Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.,http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, events, or locales is not intended by the author.

  Dedication

  “She believed she could, so she did.”

  Chapter 1

  Angelica’s best friend, RayAnne, belted the lyrics to the ridiculous country song as they drove down the quiet streets of Kimmswick, Missouri. RayAnne was the most positive person she’d ever met, which was probably why they worked so well together. Whatever the reason for their odd couple style friendship, Angelica was more than happy for it. It was easy for Angel to slip into lonesome artist mode as a sculptor, and Ray was always there to yank her back from the depths.

  “Come on, Angel, you know this one.” Angelica laughed and leaned her head out the truck’s window, the smell of small town life and fresh grass lingering in her nostrils.

  Angelica laughed as she butchered the lyrics. The decision to ride along while RayAnne worked was definitely the right one. If anything could get her mind out of the slump it was in, there was no doubt RayAnne could do it. “Sorry, lover, guess I didn’t quite learn this one last time.” She reached over and turned the volume dial down on the dash of the old blue Chevy pickup.

  “That’s all right.” RayAnne shrugged. “One more stop today and then we’re done. You ready to quit your art job and be a scrapper with me?”

  Angelica forced a smile. How close she’d been to giving up on art for so many years and so many reasons. Maybe it would be better to try something different. Just the thought made her heart ache. Give up on art. Aside from her clothes, art was the only output she’d found. Well, that, and the great casual sex she’d had in all her days traveling from town to town. But here in Kimmswick? Not too many options. Which brought her to think about someone else’s problems for a change.

  “Oh. Changes. I need details. What’s going on with that boyfriend of yours, Matt? You came home awful early last night.”

  “Ugh.” RayAnne’s shoulders slumped. “Don’t worry, Angel, it’s not me, no, no, it’s never me. It’s him. Just like it was with Steve and Darryl and …” Ray brought her sunglasses down to her nose and glanced over at Angelica. “Now why would you go and ruin a good song?”

  RayAnne’s dainty arms turned the steering wheel hard onto a gravel road Angelica didn’t recognize. Even though Kimmswick was small, she tended to stick to her studio and house. The grocery store, gas station and bar were all within five miles of both, so she didn’t have a reason to explore the town much.

  “Sorry. Where are we going?” Angelica stuck her head out the window and took in several long warehouse-shaped buildings about a mile up the road.

  “This is it, last stop, and we can go home and pop open a beer.”

  “Oh, so this is the friend you’ve been telling me about all this time, huh? Favorite stop of the day?”

  RayAnne pulled up to a broad expanse of lot where a big black 350 was parked. A man bent over brushing at the rocker panel on the driver’s side was the focus of her attention.

  “Oh yeah, hot as sin.” Ray let loose a long whistle as her eyes raked over the man’s ass.

  Angel unclicked her seat belt. “So why haven’t you dated this one?”

  RayAnne cackled, “No, sir. Hot as sin and likely to take me to hell just as fast. I don’t think I could control myself with him.” RayAnne hopped out of the truck, slamming her door, but the man outside didn’t even flinch. “Aww, isn’t that cute. See, where I come from we like men who don’t mind a little dirt on their machines.”

  The way RayAnne bounded out of the truck of her Chevy in cowboy boots and country dresses still amazed Angelica. But it was part of who she was. Her heart was still in Tennessee, buried with her mom.

  Now, without hesitation, Angelica put one heavy black boot on the ground before sliding the other out and taking the small hop to the ground. Sure, the shin-high laced up boots were easier to maneuver than her usual stilettos, but she’d rather get out of her Cadillac than hop out of a pickup truck any day of the week.

  Angelica leaned against the truck and watched as RayAnne sauntered up to the man and snaked her arms around his neck as he leaned down to wrap her up in a brotherly type hug. His shirt was solid black, cotton from the way it moved on his torso. She eyed his biceps as they stretched the material. The man released RayAnne, straightening to his full stature as he pointed to a set of bay doors and headed toward the shop.

  RayAnne walked back to the truck and jumped in, yelling through the window. “You getting back in?”

  “No, I’ll just walk it.” Angelica kicked at the gravel under her feet as the truck roared to life next to her.

  It was pretty back by the shop. Tree’s surrounded the lot, the only ones removed for the drive and the buildings; thin shoots of grass stuck up in the densest areas of the trees. So much nature right around an auto and body shop, odd combination, but one that made Angelica smile, nonetheless. Funny how she could still find new places and people in such a small town. In the three years she’d been in Kimmswick, the place had yet to stop surprising her. Which in itself was surprising considering it was a small town where not a whole lot happened. Angelica shook off a shudder and looked around. No sense reliving past mistakes. The bed of RayAnne’s truck was already disappearing into the bay doors as she approached the building.

  “All right, Ryke, whatchya got for me today?” RayAnne’s sweet twang carried over the still air inside.

  Even in the dim lighting, Angelica saw the shop was cared for much more than the other stops they’d made throughout the day. Where tools and empty oil containers laid open on the floor and on workbenches in other shops, everything in this one had a place and was clearly in it. As Angel came around the side of the truck she watched the man, Ryke, walk over to a gated area in the middle of the shop and pull open the door. Indeterminable ink sketched onto his skin was visible from where she stood, moving as he brought his hand up to run it through dirty blond hair.

  “Odds and ends today, Ray. Got room for me?” White teeth dazzled as he smiled, his head swiveling around for Ray but locking with Angelica’s. “Hi, there.” His lips opened to say something else but Ray interrupted him.

  “Sorry, Ryke, forgot to introduce you to Angelica. You know, my roomie I always talk about?”

  Angel kept her pace and stuck her hand out to Ryke.

  “So you do exist.” Ryke chuckled and held out his hand. It was warm, covering hers as he eyed her just as plainly as she was eying him. She took in the laugh lines coming from his eyes, and the slight tanned color of his skin. Words etched on his forearms and different colored paints splattered across the black denim jeans he wore.

  Angelica smiled, a purr growing inside of her. The man was intriguing. “I do. I see you’re just as sinful as Ray says.”

  “Is that what she says about me?” Ryke winked at Angel. “I’m Ryker. Nice to meet you, Angelica.”

  “Call me Angel.”

  “My pleasure.”

  The rumble to his voice made Angelica regret wearing her art clothes. The smock covered her legs, most of her boots and if she hadn’t pulled down the top to stop from
sweating to death, everything else she had to offer. Of course, the tank she wore under it would have been sexier if she had curves and voluptuous breasts like Ray, but she was proud of what she had and she squared her shoulders, hoping he liked what he saw.

  “All right, enough dilly-dallying, you two. We gotta get this scrap loaded.” RayAnne walked up to them, a piece of metal in each hand.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Angel separated herself from Ryke and saluted her friend before taking the next few steps to the gated area and grabbing herself a piece of squared metal.

  It was shiny and smooth under her hands with just the center dented. Walking back to the truck she tucked it close to the passenger side window of the bed where she would remember it. Something about it called to her, just a silly piece of scrap metal but it spoke to her muse. One piece of scrap could be the tip of the iceberg for breaking her dry spell.

  Piece by odd piece, Angel helped Ray and Ryke haul the rest of the scrap into the truck until the gated area was empty and Ray’s truck was overfilled. Lucky for them, he didn’t have any long pieces like the first stops had had, or there was no way it would have all fit. Angel climbed back into her seat, reaching to close the door.

  “I got it.” Ryker held the doorframe in his hands. “Watch your arms.” Ryke ran his hand along the inside of her arm. An unexpected bolt of electricity followed his touch. There wasn’t anything sexual to it, but it didn’t make a difference to her body.

  Angelica sucked in a breath. He nodded and she complied. An image poked out from under his shirt collar, a tattoo she couldn’t quite make out. Angel reached to pull his collar down, but Ryke stepped away too soon.

  “Don’t be a stranger, Angel.” Ryker closed the door and gave her one last look.

  Ray started the truck and put it in reverse.

  “Me? Never. See you around, Ryke,” Angel teased through the open window. The man deserved at least a wink and a smile. She let her wrist flutter in a goodbye and watched as he disappeared from site.

  “Well. You two certainly hit it off.” RayAnne smirked as she turned the truck, leading them down away from the shop.

  “He’s sinful, all right. Damn, Ray, how haven’t you given in to him?”

  “Oh I tried at first, but he always just smiled and said something nice back, nice but vague you know? Maybe it’s me, you know how experienced I am with men and all.”

  Angelica let out a laugh. “Yeah, you are such a slut.”

  Ray couldn’t keep a boyfriend to save her life. In the time she’d known her—all three of the years she’d been in Kimmswick—Ray had been hungry for a fairy-tale kind of love and never seemed to find anyone but Mr. Wrong. It didn’t make any sense. The girl was adorable and genuinely nice. And men were idiots. How many times had they played with poor Ray’s heart and she still kept hoping to find her match? Angel knew better.

  She hadn’t even pretended at a friendship with the one that had driven her in a storm of tears from St. Louis.

  Turning her mind from her thoughts, Angel let her arm hang out the window, feeling the breeze whip between her fingers. “So, who’s next, Miss Ray? What about Shane in the post office?” She let out a laugh, Shane was in his mid-seventies with white hair and a hip issue, but he always perked right up with Ray came in.

  “Eww.”

  “What? Imagine all the years of experience he must have.” Angel continued to laugh at her friend’s torment.

  “Yeah, well, you experience it. I’ll find him one day.”

  Her head lolled to the side taking in her friend’s hopeful smile. If only she could feel that kind of assurance in anything, maybe she wouldn’t have moved around so much. Maybe she’d have a steady job, a steady love interest.

  Angel shuddered. Steady. The only thing steady in her life had been her zip code the last few years. Before then it was a few months in Chicago, a few in Seattle, wherever the wind took her. Wherever her memories couldn’t find her.

  Chapter 2

  Ryker watched the women leave before turning back to his truck. Gravel sprayed the undercarriage, dust clinging to the fresh wash he’d just given it. So much for cleaning it up. That was the problem with black trucks, the gravel around the shop was unruly and no matter how many times he washed the damn thing, it was always dirty.

  His house? Neat. Office? Meticulously organized. It was just a thing he’d always had, always wanting to know that he could get to his things quickly. He didn’t leave crap lying around since the site of it would have made Ryker irritable.

  More than one layer of dust screamed at him when he bent down to reexamine the extent of the damage. The damn dry spell all over Missouri hadn’t skipped a beat, even with the Mississippi River in his backyard. Yet, somehow, Mother Nature seemed to recognize a freshly washed truck. A storm rolled through earlier in the day, which was why he had to wash all the leaves and debris off the truck at the house. Of course, now it was all back. He grumbled under his breath.

  Ryker walked back through the office. The shop was closed for the day, and it was his first time stepping inside. He’d given the guys a day without him hovering over their shoulders. Ryke knew he was a pain in the ass, but that realization didn’t make him change, though. Red Light Body and Paint was successful because of his obsessive tendencies.

  Of course, now the shop was a mess. To everyone else’s lower standards it wouldn’t seem that way, but he looked around at the few tools on his workbench, the layer of dust coating the walls and couldn’t stand it. In most shops it wouldn’t matter if the walls were dirty, but there were lights in these to ensure the paint jobs came out just the right color. Meticulous was what the job demanded. Why the schmucks he kept hiring couldn’t figure out how to wipe down after their work, he’d never understand.

  "Glad I get to be a fucking babysitter." Swiping a small hammer off one of the lifts, Ryker headed into the office with his briefcase under his arm.

  It was good he’d came in when he did today, otherwise Ray wouldn’t have had anyone to open up or get the scrap out. Not to mention he wouldn’t have gotten to meet her friend, Angel. What a name. What an…everything. Even being modestly clothed Ryker could see there was a spitfire of a woman just dying to be uncovered. She had thick gauges through her ears, her nose septum pierced, and short black hair. The temptation to throw her over his shoulder like a caveman had been strong. Ryke was a sucker for women with a bold style. He tried to recall the tidbits Ray mentioned here and there when she dropped by to pick up his scraps.

  He remembered her saying she had a roommate, one who was “different.” What that meant he wasn’t sure, but knowing Ray it could mean the roomie only listened to country music when she had to, or didn’t own a pair of boots. Little Ray, always the sweet, innocent country girl.

  For a couple years, he’d dealt with her dad instead of Ray. He’d pick up his scrap and give Ryke a cut of the profits after melting it down to be sold, or whatever he chose to do with it that month. Then he started sending his daughter out to collect. Ray was easy to work with, kind and innocent, no angles from the kid.

  He’d felt bad pushing off her come-on’s when she first started coming around, but it was easy to see, with her wide eyes and starry gaze, she wanted more than a night of fun. Except Ryke didn’t have more to offer.

  Ryker’s thoughts shifted to Angel. She seemed just the type to be up for a little fun now and again. He glanced around the shop—still a mess—and now he was distracted with thoughts of the hot little roomie he’d met. Ryke had two choices, clean up or go back to a lonely house to fantasize about Angel.

  As he cleaned up the shop an idea began to take form. Angel lived with Ray and he knew where Ray lived. Why should he wait for her to come back to the shop? Ryke was more than capable of seeking her out.

  Twenty minutes later, the shop was locked up tight and shut down for the night. Ryke pulled out of the lot and headed for town. Ray lived in a house on the outskirts. He didn’t know what he’d say to Angel when he got there, bu
t Ryke was confident he’d come up with something. Even if it was as simple as dinner—everyone had to eat after all.

  * * *

  “You’re not coming home tonight, are you?” RayAnne looked over the open refrigerator door at Angelica.

  “At this point I’m not sure. It’s just an idea, but you know how that goes.” Angelica snuck around her friend and grabbed a few bottles of water to toss into her overnight bag.

  “You know I don’t, but all right, go on then. Be … artsy.”

  “You got it, lover, talk to you later.” Angelica smacked a friendly kiss on Ray’s cheek and walked through the living room and out the front door.

  The urge was too much to resist. She’d spent the whole day looking at odds and ends of metal that would be perfect for a sculpture … if she could just think of what they were supposed to be. One step at a time.

  Inspiration was a funny thing, the way she could be out for a ride just enjoying the sunlight one minute and chomping at the bit to get into her studio the next. Angel knew how lucky she was to have found a friend in someone like Ray. It would be hard to find someone else she felt comfortable rooming with, let alone who understood there would be entire days and nights Angel would disappear in her work, letting go of the world around her. The sun still shone, though low in the sky, its heat warming her heart as she opened the door to her car and climbed in.

  Angelica jumped in her 69 Cadillac and stroked the wheel. “Hey, baby. Miss me?”

  Talking to her car was something she’d grown accustomed to over the years. Whether that meant asking the steering wheel for advice, crying over it, beating it with heavy fists or singing gleefully along with the radio. As she ran from heartache and bill collectors, her car was the only constant in her life.

  But it all changed six short months after moving to Kimmswick when Angelica and Ray grabbed for the same vintage scarf in an antique store’s bin. Not something usually fought over, the two laughed and talked about their love of vintage clothes. Of course, they had totally different styles, but it was the first time Angelica had bumped into a stranger who didn’t look at her funny before striking up a conversation.