I break it?” she asked.
He laughed, and deep dimples appeared in his cheeks. His dark hair had fallen over his forehead. He was a mess, and she had never seen anything she wanted her hands on so much in her entire life. “It breaks all by itself. Regularly. Make sure you carry a phone when you’re driving.”
“I know a few things about cars,” she said. “May I help?” Why on earth had she offered?
But she knew. She knew. She wanted to be close to that beautiful muscular body. She wanted to be there in case he laughed again. She wasn’t any better than Sandra.
Except I don’t want to marry him, she thought. I just want to touch him, maybe look at him a little.
She was totally pathetic.
“You’ll get grease on you,” he warned.
“Grease won’t kill a person.”
“Not the trendiest look for models, though.”
“I told you, I don’t model anymore.” It was getting easier to say those words, even though she sometimes missed the profession where she had fit and felt comfortable. With Noah, she felt…too aware of her body. And his body.
He nodded. “I heard you the first time you told me.” But he looked her over carefully, as if examining her for flaws from head to toe. Ivy squirmed. She fought to hold her head high, so that her scars were visible.
“Not buying it,” he said. “You carry your head higher than most women do. I’ve noticed those pretty little scarves you wear, the ones you know darn well will never make it through the day, but you wear them anyway. You’ll always be Ivy Seacrest, international model.”
He was so wrong. The scars had ruled that out, but she didn’t argue. Pointing out her scars only sounded as if she were asking for pity, and pity wasn’t what she wanted from Noah. No, she wanted…
A job. Just a job, she told herself. “Just the spark plugs or a full tune-up?” she asked.
“Full. I’m mostly done. Just have to change the oil.”
She nodded, grabbed the oil wrench and pan and slid beneath the truck.
“You’re pretty handy,” Noah conceded.
She chuckled as she drained the oil into the pan. “I told you, I had to learn all this when I was growing up.”
“So ranch chores, repairing cars…what else?”
“The usual. Cooking, cleaning, general household maintenance, painting.” She left out the bit about nursing an injured mother because her father wouldn’t pay for a doctor. That wasn’t for sharing.
“All that and you went to school, too.”
“They don’t call us supermodels for nothing,” she said, trying to tease because she was afraid that he was feeling sorry for her.
“No arguments here. I’m just not sure I want to go that route with—well, I admire your skills, but your days must have been long.”
He’d been thinking about what his plans were for Lily, hadn’t he? Ivy remembered what the women in town had said.
None of your business. Keep out, she thought. And yet…she slid from beneath the truck, wiping the oil off her hands with a rag. “When I was in town, there were some ladies talking about you.”
He raised one dark brow. One dark sexy brow. Uh-oh. “What were they saying?”
“You mean, besides the fact that they all want to run naked before you and have your babies?”
“Interesting conversation.”
“Just saying that they seemed disappointed that I couldn’t give them any hot news about you.”
“So you and the ladies in town are tight, eh?”
“Like this,” she said, twisting her fingers around each other. “Actually, we’re not so tight. I barely know them. At least one of them hates me. None of the others want to be my shopping buddy. Not their fault. I didn’t spend a lot of time socializing when I was growing up.”
“Understandable. You were fixing cars and herding cattle and painting houses.”
“Right.” Because he was partially right. Even if she had “fit” with the girls in town, she wouldn’t have had time to play. Which brought her back to the topic at hand. The one she wasn’t going to go near.
“But I could tell this much from their conversation. They think you’re keeping Lily from meeting other kids. They think it’s bad for her.”
Oh, brother, just shut up, Seacrest.
“I see.”
“No, you don’t. You think I’m being nosy and—okay, I am being nosy. Lily is…”
“Off-limits.”
“Yes.”
“And you never wanted to talk about her before.”
She still didn’t. It hurt too much.
“I know, but—”
“But nothing. No one tells me how to raise my kid.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Sounds a lot like that’s where you’re headed, Ivy.”
“Okay, you’re right, but…”
“I’ll take her around to meet other kids when it’s time, but I want her to be grounded here first.”
“You’re afraid she’ll like town better.” Like his wife.
A mask came down over his eyes. The discussion was closed. She didn’t blame him. She had crossed a line. If Bo were still alive and some…stranger with no experience tried to tell her how to raise him, she’d feel the same way Noah did. Ivy cursed herself for doing something as stupid as trying to advise a real father on how to parent. She felt awkward, embarrassed and angry with herself, so she knelt to return to her task.
“Do you think you know so much more than I do?” Noah asked suddenly.
“No!” The word came out on a harsh whisper. “I know nothing. Almost nothing. I know…this one thing. I lived this one thing. If you keep her here, she’ll eventually feel trapped and grow to hate it. But you’re right. It’s your call. She is only two. There’s still time. I think.”
Noah swore beneath his breath. “Is that what happened to you? Your daddy trapped you on that ranch of his? I used to hear things, but—” he held out his hands “—I never knew much about the man.”
Ivy looked up into his eyes. “The ranch was all he thought about. It was his
