“All right, guys.” Shannon Bell put her purse over her shoulder and clicked her way toward the front door. “Be good while I’m at work.” She flashed a bright smile to her two cats, both of whom sat at perfect attention a few feet away.
Of course, neither of them responded to her, and Shannon went out the door and down the steps. She had a routine she followed each morning, and she was right on schedule to hit Roasted at their slowest time between eight and nine.
She’d tried different times, and eight-twenty in the morning seemed to be the best time to get her daily dose of caffeine before she had to go to work at Your Tidal Forever. She loved her job, though it was a bit intense from time to time.
“At least the celebrity wedding and the royal wedding are over,” she told herself as she buckled her seatbelt and started her car. She loved this car, and she lowered the top to let in the spring sunshine as she started toward downtown Getaway Bay.
She hooked her purse over her arm as she walked into the coffee shop, running her fingers through her hair to tame some of the messy curls back into waves. Only four people waited in line, and Shannon smiled to herself that she’d timed her coffee shop visit exactly right again.
Shannon prided herself on the details of things. It was what made her a good secretary, and why Hope Sorensen at Your Tidal Forever had told Shannon she could never quit.
Her body was still recovering from the high-profile weddings over the past couple of months, and she wished she wasn’t such a night owl. That, or she needed another job where she didn’t have to be to work by nine.
But she had a secretarial degree and a professional certification in organization. So she was well-suited for the many moving parts a wedding planning business required, and she’d enjoyed her last five years at Your Tidal Forever.
Well, most of the time she enjoyed the work. Sometimes Hope could be a little intense, and when they had two of the biggest celebrities tying the knot one month, and then a prince getting married only a couple later, there had been times that Shannon felt like she’d lose her mind with all the tiny pieces that needed to be finished on time.
In the five minutes she waited to put in her order for a large caramel mocha, the bell on the door rang eight more times, and she asked for a cranberry orange bran muffin too, as she rarely ate breakfast before she left the house.
With summer right around the corner, Shannon had dozens of tasks to be completed that day, and she’d be lucky if she got fifteen minutes for lunch. Maybe she could get Riley to get food for everyone, or she’d just run down the boardwalk to the Ohana Resort, which had recently opened a shop that served soups, salads, and sandwiches for the professional lunch crowd. The Lunch Spot promised food in ten minutes or less, and they had dozens of tables in the sand that always seemed full.
She got her coffee and turned to leave. Her eyes scanned the line of people waiting, catching on a tall, good-looking man she’d seen every day for a long time. She couldn’t pinpoint when she’d first met Doctor Jeremiah Yeates, or when she’d learned his name, or when she’d realized that he worked in the building just down from Your Tidal Forever.
It seemed like they’d known each other for a while, and she waved to him as she passed.
“You beat me today,” he said with a smile, and she couldn’t help the little laugh that came out of her mouth. She quelled it by sipping her coffee, because while she and Jeremiah were friendly, there had never been much of a spark there.
She knew his name and where he worked. That was all. They could probably ride to work together if they wanted to, but neither of them had ever brought it up. And Shannon wasn’t going to today either.
Yes, Jeremiah was handsome and clearly well-off, as Shannon never saw him wearing anything but an expensive suit, and she’d seen him when he got to Roasted before her—he bought coffee for his whole office.
Every morning, the man bought coffee for his whole office. Shannon couldn’t even imagine Hope doing that, though the owner did sometimes bring in food, but usually for clients and the employees just ate what was left over.
As Shannon walked across the parking lot to her car, her purse swinging and the coffee in her hand a bit too warm to really drink. Shannon was more of a lukewarm coffee lover, and she probably wouldn’t touch her brew for another hour at least.
She found a couple standing at the front corner of her car, and she glanced at the man, a blip of anxiety flipping through her. She clicked her keys to unlock the car, though the top on the convertible was still down and if there had been anything worth stealing inside, it probably would’ve been gone by now.
The couple moved away, and Shannon glanced at the front of her beloved car. It was fine. Of course it was fine. Getaway Bay didn’t have a high crime rate, and Shannon didn’t really have anything to be worried about.
Except the flat tire staring back at her.
“Oh, no,” she said, the words part of a much larger moan. She opened the door and put her purse inside, as well as her coffee. Then she placed her hands on her hips and faced the tire. Her father had taught her how to change a flat tire, as well as her oil, but Shannon never used the lessons. She had money, and why should she shimmy under her car when Max could do it at the lube shop for thirty bucks?
But Max wasn’t here now, and Shannon had a ton to do at work. She opened her trunk and pulled back the roof to reveal the spare tire. She had no idea if she had the right tools to change a tire, but she was going to find out.
She found a X-shaped tool that she seemed to recall her father using to loosen the bolts. Bolts? That didn’t seem like the right term, but Shannon literally made appointments, took messages, and tasted wedding cakes for a living.
The tool fit over the bolts, and she twisted. Nothing happened. After several more minutes of straining and trying to get even one of those stupid bolts off, sweat poured down Shannon’s face. Her blouse had come untucked, and she had no idea where her heels were.
She crouched next to the tire, frustration about to make her say or do something she’d likely regret later—like calling her father for help.
“Can’t do it,” she said, and she also regretted her skirt choice, as this one was a little snug along her waist and hips.
“Need some help?” a man asked, and Shannon startled toward the deep, familiar voice. She twisted and peered up at none other than Jeremiah Yeates and the two trays of coffee he held in his hands.
“I have a flat tire,” she said, trying to straighten.
Horror struck her like lightning at the sound of a seam riiipping, and she spun to put her backside against her cherry red convertible.
To Jeremiah’s great credit, he acted like she hadn’t just split her skirt open and stepped over to the hood of the car, where he set down the seven cups of coffee. “I think I can change a tire.”
“I haven’t been able to get off the bolts,” she said, wiping her bangs off her forehead. Her hand came away wet, and more embarrassment squirreled through her.
“Let’s see what I can do with these lug nuts,” Jeremiah said, taking his suit coat off and draping it over the driver’s side door. He wore a light blue, short-sleeved dress shirt, and Shannon couldn’t help but admire the width of his shoulders and the obvious strength in his biceps.
Shannon looked away, her heart pounding a bit harder than normal for a reason she couldn’t identify. So Jeremiah spent some time in the gym. So did a lot of men.
He picked up the tool she’d been wrestling with and crouched where she’d been. With the first yank on the wrench, the bolt—lug nut, whatever—came loose, and Shannon felt another blast of humiliation.
Jeremiah made short work of the lug nuts and pulled the full-size tire off. “Yeah, it looks like you drove over a nail,” he said.
“Oh,” she said. “I live over in the Cliff Cove area, and they’re doing some construction up there.”
“Yeah,” he said with a big grin. “I live up there too.”
Surprise pulled through her. “You do?”
“Yeah, off White Sails Lane.”
That was only a few blocks from her, and she said, “I’m off Five Island.”
His smile was glorious and beautiful, and why hadn’t Shannon ever noticed it before? She tucked her dark hair behind her ear, wishing the sun didn’t make her whole head feel like it was ablaze.
“I’m going to be so late for work,” she said. “I’m so sorry. Are you—do you have a patient this morning?”
“I’m okay,” he said, walking to the back of the car to get the spare tire. “Let me text my secretary real quick.” He pulled his phone out and started sending a message, prompting Shannon to do the same thing. Hope couldn’t blame her for being late if she had a flat tire. In fact, Shannon beat Hope to the office every day anyway.
“Shannon?” he asked from the trunk, and Shannon looked up from her phone.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think this spare is any good.” He glanced at her and back into the trunk.
She shimmied along the side of the car and placed her palm flat against her backside as she turned to stand right beside him. She peered into the trunk too, asking, “What’s wrong with it?”
“Look how it’s cracked along the side there?” He ran his finger along the edge of the tire. “We can’t put this on.”
She appreciated the use of “we,” but she had absolutely no idea what to do now.
“I can give you a ride to work,” he said. “And maybe you can call someone to come tow the car and get the tire fixed?” He looked at her like she had resources to do that. And she did, but she didn’t want to call her dad and admit she couldn’t change her own tire.
“All right,” she said. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
Jeremiah grinned at her. “It’s no problem, Shannon,” he said. “We work right next door to each other, and I just found out you’re like, three blocks away from where I live.” He hefted the flat tire into her trunk and slammed it closed. “So it’s absolutely no problem.”
Shannon couldn’t help returning his smile, because it was just so dashing, and he was so good-looking, and he smelled like cologne and sunshine and dark roast coffee.
As she collected her purse and coffee and walked with him over to his car, Shannon wondered why she’d never looked at Doctor Jeremiah Yeates more than once on her way out of the coffee shop.