I've Got You, Babe by author Lynnette Austin
Excerpt from I've Got You, Babe
A Bachelors and Babies Novel
A cup of hot, black coffee in hand and a well-earned—and desperately needed—weekend fishing trip on his mind, Tucker unlocked the front door of Wylder Rides. The smell of oil and new tires welcomed him like an old friend. He liked the peace and quiet of the early morning, the solitude before his brothers arrived.
In five short days, a hot-shot Hollywood producer would fly into Savannah to pick up his '63 Corvette split-window coupe. Since the complete frame-off restoration they'd promised wasn't quite finished, Tucker took a healthy drink of coffee, then setting it aside, rolled up his sleeves.
When a breeze drifted in through the open bay door, he thanked the stars the calendar had finally flipped to October. This summer, his first in Misty Bottoms, Georgia, had been hotter than Hades. With the onslaught of autumn, though, temperatures had dipped to less humid mid-seventies.
Still, even the Georgia low-country summer had been a hell of a sight better than the sweltering heat he'd suffered during his Middle East deployment. There the July temperatures hovered above the hundred-degree mark. Add in the blistering sun, and the place could turn a man's hide to shoe leather in no time. Don't even get him started on the never-ending sand that found its way into every crack and crevice on the human body and scoured exposed skin raw.
A tough place to live. A worse place to die.
Involuntarily, his hands clenched into fists. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed them. Not today.
Eyeing the tool wall, he noticed somebody—probably Gaven—had hung several torque wrenches out of order. Impatiently, he rearranged them. With a twist of his wrist, he turned the can of brake fluid label-out.
Satisfied everything was in order, he dropped to the creeper, slid partially beneath the Vette, and got busy replacing the brake lines.
Southern rock blasted from his stereo. Over the magic of Charlie Daniels's fiddle, Tucker heard a car slow, then pull in out front. Its muffler was shot. The engine knocked, coughed, and sputtered, then shut down with a rattle.
Seconds later, a totally different sound caught his attention—high heels on the garage's concrete floor. Tucker slid a sidelong glance at the front of the bay and about swallowed his tongue. Framed in the narrow window between the floor and the car's bumper were a pair of legs that would have any red-blooded man drooling…and they crossed slowly toward him. Laying the wrench on the floor beside him, he gave a push with his foot and slid the creeper from beneath the car.
Flat on his back, he let his gaze travel up over a body that matched the legs beat for beat, then on to a face only angels could have created. The heart-shaped face, with its sensuous lips and the biggest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen, sent a shockwave rocketing through him. Long blond hair had been caught back in a ponytail.
An illusion? Maybe he'd breathed too many gas fumes and was hallucinating?
Nope. This woman was real and, from the expression on that stunning face, in trouble.
“My car—” She waved a hand toward the front of the building.
“Could use some work,” Tucker finished, slowly getting to his feet. Wiping his hands on a grease rag, he moved toward her. “Look, we're not a repair shop, but I can probably figure out what's wrong. If it's minor, I'll take care of it for you. Otherwise, you'll need to head into town to Robbie's Garage, or he can bring his tow truck and pick up you and the car. Robbie's fair, and he'll do right by you.”
She swayed and reached out toward the wall.
“You okay?” As Tucker spoke, he saw those mind-blowing eyes go blank. Dark lashes fanned her cheeks.
With a muttered curse, he lunged, barely reaching her before she hit the floor. Heart racing, he held her against him and swore again. Out cold. Her skin was almost translucent. Sleeping Beauty weighed next to nothing and appeared to need a heck of a lot more help than her wreck of a car did.
“Hey, can you hear me?” He tapped her cheek but got no response. “Wake up.”
Sweat broke out on his brow. Where were his brothers?
Buy I've Got You, Babe on Amazon
You don't want to miss I've Got You, Babe by Lynnette Austin!
Buy I've Got You, Babe on B&N
Sign
up for Lynnette's Newsletter
Visit Lynnette on Facebook and Twitter.
Email: LHallbe@aol.com
© 2009 - 2022 by Lynnette Austin - All Rights Reserved
Web Design by Janice Boling