to jump my battery is hardly being with a man.” Though she’d certainly had visions of another kind of jumping, but those were best kept to herself.
“If you’d kept the car your husband bought you—”
“Ex-husband,” Lainey said through clenched teeth.
Unperturbed, Jacqui continued on. “If you’d kept the car, and the husband, you wouldn’t need strange men to help you in the parking lot. Men who may have less than honorable intentions toward you.”
Lainey tried to count to ten and gave up at three. “Excuse me? How does being nice equal intentions of any kind?”
Jacqui glared at her. “Do I need to spell it out for you? Your father’s political connections are extremely valuable. Some people will use you for them. You don’t always have the best judgment, Lainey.”
Ouch. Direct hit. “Like Daniel did?” Lainey shot back. “You weren’t concerned then, about my judgment or my connections, since he came from the right family. I can’t see what need Ben Lawless would have for political connections, or how he thinks he’d get them when we only had ten minutes together.”
“Martha said you looked awful cozy.”
“Martha was wrong,” Lainey said flatly. “Trust me, Mother. Please.”
Jacqui made a noise in her throat. “I talked to Daniel earlier.”
Betrayal sliced through her, sharp and quick. “What?”
Jacqui sent Lainey a look full of reproach. “He said you never call him. Why ever not, Lainey? He’s a good man.”
Lainey sucked in a breath. She’d worked so hard to get free of her ex-husband. “I can’t think of any reason I’d ever have to call him.” Not even if hell froze over. Twice.
Her mother looked at her as if she were a bit daft. “He misses you, dear.”
Not a chance. She knew Daniel. Her ex-husband missed the perceived gravy train.
Lainey had never filled her family in on all the reasons behind her divorce. She’d been afraid they would take his side—a fear only reinforced as she looked at her mother now. Her parents adored Daniel. She’d dated him in an effort to be the daughter they wanted. They’d been over the moon when she’d succumbed in a weak moment, perhaps blinded by the three-carat princess-cut ring, and agreed to marry him. She’d thought she could make it work and earn her parents’ respect in one fell swoop.
She’d been wrong.
“Why would he miss me now? We’ve been divorced more than a year,” she said, and wasn’t totally successful at keeping the bitterness out of her voice. Jacqui didn’t seem to notice.
“I gave him your cell phone number and I’ve got his for you,” she said, fishing in her bag. “He said he’d give you a call.”
Anger propelled Lainey to her feet. “What? Mother, how could you? I don’t want to talk to him. Ever. My life is none of his business now.” He’d never cared when they were married. Why would he now?
Surprise crossed her mother’s face. “Lainey, you were married for seven years. Those feelings don’t just go away. He can help you out of this mess you’re in. You’re barely hanging on. Everyone knows it. You need his help.”
Nausea rolled over Lainey. There lay the crux of the matter for Jacqui—the possibility of another public shaming by her wayward daughter and the offer of salvation by a man deemed worthy, no matter the cost.
“I most certainly do not.” Telling her parents the truth of her marriage to Daniel would only prove how good she was at failing. “I don’t need him or anyone else to make this work. I’m doing perfectly fine on my own.” Well, except for the fact her shop was in the red and she had a cooler and a van on the fritz. Oh, and she was about to become a single mom. Still … “I’m happy, Mother.”
Jacqui sighed, shook her head, and gestured around the apartment. “Oh, honey. You can’t possibly be happy living like this, after how you were raised and how well you married. Talk to him when he calls. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll give you a second chance.”
Lainey shuddered. God help her. “I’m not interested.” Those years she’d spent with Daniel were ones she’d never get back. She wasn’t going to repeat the mistake of chaining herself to a man. No matter what.
“You should be.” Jacqui glanced at her watch. “I’d better get going. Lovely to see you, dear. Come visit us soon.”
Lainey bit back a sigh. Typical. Her mother would act as if nothing had happened. “I’ll walk you out.”
The next evening Ben looked up at the crunch of tires on the gravel drive. He recognized the silver car, and he already knew Lainey Keeler was coming over to visit his grandmother.
He wondered again at her modest choice of car. Somehow that intrigued him. He’d bet there was more to that story than she’d let on.
It would be flat-out rude not to make sure the car was running okay after he’d helped her yesterday. He’d be polite, then get back to his prep for the wheelchair ramp. He leaned the piece of wood he’d been about to cut against the wall and walked out into the twilight.
As he approached the car the door opened and he watched as Lainey planted one slim denim-clad leg, ending in a high-heeled black boot, on the ground. He tried not to notice how long that leg was. She appeared to be struggling with something so he went over to help.
“Evening,” he said. She jumped, yelped, and nearly lost her grip on what he could now see was a pizza box. Big blue eyes swung his way and a pretty pink stained her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly and his gaze zeroed in on her mouth. Very nice. He shoved the unwelcome thought away. “Can I get that for you?”
She shook her head and her long hair shifted silkily on her shoulders. “I’ve got it. Thanks.”
He stepped back to let her exit the car. “Is it running okay?”
She glanced up at him. “Yes. Thank you again.” Her tone was cool, polite. She bumped the door shut with her hip, but her keys fell to the ground. Ben bent and retrieved them for her, pressing them into her palm. A quick zing of heat flashed through him at the contact. He pulled back quickly. Hell.
“Um, thanks,” she murmured.
“You’re welcome.” He turned toward the garage. He needed to get away from her before he started to feel.
“Ben.” Her voice—hesitant, a little husky—flowed over him. He turned back and she tipped the pizza box slightly toward him. “There’s plenty here if you want to join us.”
“No, thanks.” The words came swift, automatic, but he caught a flash of hurt in her eyes. Damn it. “I’m in the middle of a project,” he amended. “I’ll try and grab some in awhile.” Why did he feel the need to soften the blow? Since when had big blue eyes affected him? Since last night, when she’d narrowed her eyes and told him she could change a tire.
She shrugged. “Good luck. Rose and I love our pizza.”
He
