Mustang Sassy

By Daire St. Denis

When Sass Hogan catches her boyfriend slow-dancing and doing the tongue-tango with Tori Double-D-Cup Hunter, she pays him back the only way she knows how—by taking a tire iron to his beloved '67 Mustang Fastback. There's only one problem. She's destroyed the wrong car.

Jordan Michaels wants his car fixed, now, and he wants Sass's auto body shop to do it. But the handsome blond has a secret-he's really Jordan Carlyle of Carlyle's Classics, Hogan's biggest competitor, and he's determined to prove himself to his family.

As Sass and Jordan get to know each other, the depth of the attraction has them falling in love. But a relationship based on lies will only leave them primed for the worst wreck of their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Feb 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781622661121

Daire St. Denis

New York Times Bestselling Author Daire St. Denis is an adventure seeker, an ancient history addict, a seasonal hermit and a wine lover. She writes smoking hot contemporary romance where the pages are steeped in sensuality and there's always a dash of the unexpected. Find her at dairestdenis.com.

Book preview

To Gerry, Janet, Cindy, Vicky and Julie. Mark’s Mustang helped inspire this story.

Chapter One

That good-for-nothing cheat!

Sass Hogan reeled between the cars of the packed parking lot of the Snake Pit Saloon, her head buzzing with a swarm of angry bees, stabs of heat stinging her chest. All she’d wanted was a beer and a game of pool, was that too much to ask? It was Saturday night after all, and sort of her birthday—not that she’d told anyone.

But, the minute she’d walked into the saloon, what did she find? Not a surprise party, oh no. She’d been slapped in the face by Carlos, her supposed boyfriend, dancing with Tori Double-D-Cup-Hunter, his hands on her ass, his tongue sucked halfway down her throat.

Oh God. She needed some toilet paper to wipe that barfy image from her brain. Stumbling, she leaned against the nearest car, using her sleeve to swipe the tears from her cheeks. How could this be happening…again?

Her knees gave out, and she slid down to sit on the bumper, her head hanging between her knees. She’d trusted Carlos. He was her friend. They worked together. They’d collaborated on cars together. The other stuff—the make-out sessions and wild sex—had all come later. How could he betray her?

Sass pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. Had she missed something? Were there signs that she’d been oblivious to? Rubbing slow circles against her eyes, she recalled one time in particular when she’d caught him texting at the shop and he said he wasn’t. She shuddered. Had he been sexting Tori?

No! Just when she was starting to care, starting to trust, she was kicked in the gut by some lying, cheating scumbag-of-a-man-whore. Again.

What was that saying? The one about fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on you? No, wait. That wasn’t right. It was, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

So, what was that supposed to mean? That this was her fault? That she attracted cheating men?

Uh-uh.

No way in hell!

She pushed herself to her feet and kicked the tire of the car.

Nothing. No relief.

With a grunt, she body-checked the side, but it barely rocked on its axles. With a frustrated sniff, she wiped her eyes with the back of her arm until her blurry vision regained some clarity.

What the…?

The car she’d been sitting on—a beautifully rebuilt ’67 Mustang Fastback—came into focus. Out of all the cars in the lot, what were the chances that she’d stumble blindly into Carlos’s Mustang, the one she’d helped him restore at her father’s auto-body shop? She slid her hand along the glossy paint, vaguely aware of the sound of her breath, ragged and harsh. A strange sense of déjà vu settled over her as she circled the Mustang, like she’d been here before, not just emotionally, but really here, standing in the dark parking lot, touching this car, on the precipice of something that was as of yet unnamed.

Do it.

Sass shook her head, the bees still swarming chaotically between her ears.

You know you want to. He deserves it.

She rubbed her palms over her eyes and tried to take a deep breath. She had to get out of there before she did something she’d regret. Like a pinball bouncing between cars, Sass lurched toward the back of the lot. Once she located the Corvette, she collapsed against the hood, hanging her head and doing her best to calm down.

No good.

She needed something. Something to make the pain stop.

Her hands shook as she fit the key into the lock and turned.

She fully intended to get into the car and drive off. She really, really did. But then she saw the tire iron. It sat in the cargo space behind her driver seat, sparkling like a magic wand, calling her name.

Sa-ass. Pick me up. Come on, Sass. You know you want to.

She reached for it, dragging the iron slowly and carefully out of the car. She held it up, testing its weight like it was a baseball bat and she was a ball player intent on hitting a home run. Sass looked around. Her vision cleared. The bees still hummed, but not so much with anger as with anticipation.

There was no one around.

No one.

Slowly, Sass edged back to the car three rows over. What she was about to do was wrong. Some part of her knew that. But there was another part—one she’d only met a few times, one that was even now clawing at her innards to get out—that insisted what she was about to do would feel right. Oh, so right.

No one saw you in the bar. The tire iron vibrated in her fierce grip. No one knows about you and Carlos anyway. Come on. Do it for all the women who’ve been cheated on.

With one more glance around the parking lot, Sass raised the iron above her head, took a deep breath, and swung it for all she was worth.

The windshield cracked under the force of her blow.

Oh God! The flame licks tattooed on the small of her back came to life, radiating heat and sparks to her extremities until the iron felt weightless in her grasp. The driver’s side window and door caved with no effort.

Sass strode to the front of the car, glanced around and then, while the Carrie Underwood song, Before He Cheats, ran on repeat through her brain, she swung like she held a Louisville Slugger, taking out both headlights…pop, pop! They burst in delightful mini-explosions.

Her body vibrated with pure adrenaline as she dragged the rough end of her weapon along the passenger side, making a deep gouge in the shiny blue paint all along the car’s length to the rear fender, denting the chrome hubcaps as she went. Years of pent-up emotions surged through her as she shattered both taillights, the glass tinkling as it fell to the ground.

Leaning her frame on the iron, Sass panted heavily and surveyed the damage: the dented hubcaps, scratched doors, and gouged side panels. She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut as some weird choking sensation threatened to take over. But with her eyes closed all she could see was Carlos and Tori, swaying to the music.

Would he take her home or go back to her place? Maybe they’d sneak off to the Greenwood Inn.

Together.

Out of nowhere, an image of a shirtless Dex Whelan, her first love—the rat!—popped into her head. The door to his room at the Greenwood Inn was open wide enough to reveal a redhead lounging on the bed inside, smoking a cigarette. Just the thought of Dex had the power to throw Sass into a vortex of hurt and shame and she held the sides of her head, swallowing the fire of his betrayal mingled with this latest one.

First Dex, now Carlos. With a shake of her head and a grunt of anger, Sass glanced around the empty parking lot. She climbed up on the hood and started to dance, a stomping, boot-grinding jig, making sure to dig the heels of her cowboy boots into the shiny paint and white stripes. Then she lifted the iron above her head and brought it down butt first, denting the roof of the vehicle again and again and again.

Never— Crash!

Ever— Smash!

Again!

…

What had she done? Sass Hogan sat in her car in the parking lot of Hogan’s Restoration & Body Shop Sunday morning unable to move. She checked herself in the rearview mirror and tucked a stray piece of hair beneath her headband. She blinked her mascaraed lashes and rubbed her glossy lips together. She never wore makeup and now she had some of the black gunk in her eyes. That must have been why they were stinging. That and the fact she’d gotten very little sleep.

Oh God! What had she done?

It was wrong. It was so wrong.

No, not just wrong, criminal. She was a criminal and would end up in jail. Maybe they’d make her take some of those stupid anger-management classes…not that it wasn’t probably a good idea, because holy hell, she could still feel the anger bubbling inside of her, even after all she’d done to release it. It was like last night’s escapade had only spun her tires and her anger was ready to blast out onto an open stretch of road. Seriously. She had to get a grip. What on earth had possessed her?

But Sass knew what had possessed her. She hadn’t planned on going to the Pit, but she’d been working in the shop late and suddenly realized it was her birthday. Not that she wanted anyone to know. Sass hated them, always had. Still, considering what day it was left her restless. Edgy. And, one of the few things that relieved her when she was feeling tense these days was a little one-on-one time with Carlos.

So she went to the Pit because that’s where Carlos went every Saturday night. Now she knew why. Maybe she’d always known why.

The bastard!

Sass tugged up her tank top and adjusted the microscopic skirt—all stuff her friend Libby had talked her into buying a few months ago. It was a far cry from what she normally wore to the shop, but it was the kind of outfit Tori would wear, apparently the kind of outfit Carlos liked on a woman.

Ah shit. Dressing like this had seemed like a good idea in the wee hours of the morning when she’d been unable to sleep and her plan had been to come into work and confess. Hoping what? If she batted her lashes and wore something revealing, Carlos would forgive her for destroying his prized possession? Stupid. Carlos cared way more about the car than he ever cared about her.

If only she could take it back, have a redo of the last twelve hours, and just break up with Carlos, cool and controlled-like.

She played the scenario over in her head, telling Carlos they were through, maybe telling him she was bored and that’s why she was ending it. She wouldn’t let on what she’d seen or how upset she was.

Except, she could still feel the weight of the iron in her hands as she stared out the window. Man, it’d felt good busting up Carlos’s car. The way the tire iron moved? It was like it had a life of its own, kind of like that movie about the car that comes to life, that horror movie, what was it called? Christine? Yes, that was it. The tire iron was like Christine, possessed. Trying to get Sass to help destroy those around her. The afterglow still had a hold of her, and her fingers trembled with remembered satisfaction.

Sass shook her head, dislodging the vivid memory from her mind’s eye. After a deep, trembling breath, she crawled out of the car and teetered to the door as best she could in the only pair of heels she owned. She saw with relief there were no other cars parked in the lot except for all the wrecks and projects Buck kept for a rainy day. Once inside, she started a pot of coffee to brew. Not that she needed any. Coffee would have her bouncing off the walls. Her legs were jumpy, and her normally steady hands shook. Holy Hannah! She was as twitchy as a jumping bean on crack.

The sound of the finely tuned engine of Carlos’s Mustang rumbled, getting louder as it turned into the parking lot. Lurching over to the window, she watched as the battered car rattled through the gate. The windshield was so shattered she couldn’t make out Carlos’s face. She could guess what expression he’d be wearing and the thought sent a chill down her spine. With her gut twisted into a knot, she leaned against the wall behind the filing cabinet, taking deep breaths, exhaling as slowly as she could manage.

The bells over the front door tinkled. Hello?

Sass frowned. Carlos normally used the side entrance.

Is anyone here?

Emerging from behind the cabinet, Sass stared in confusion at the man at the door of the shop. He was enormous and blond and seemed vaguely familiar.

The door was open and… He smiled apologetically, revealing a dimple in his right cheek.

Sass stared, craning her neck to see if Carlos was standing behind the dude. Maybe he was still outside. Damn! She didn’t need some stranger witnessing the scene that was going to take place in a matter of seconds. Sorry, we’re closed, she blurted without thinking it all the way through.

Oh? The giant scratched the back of his neck.

The movement emphasized some serious biceps muscles. Sass swallowed with difficulty and wrenched her gaze back to his face.

A guy I met at the bar last night told me to come in today. He said he works here.

Was that why Blondie seemed familiar? Had she seen him at the bar?

Who? Sass asked, her voice sounding higher than normal. Who did you talk to?

Rodriguez.

Sass’s knees buckled at the mention of Carlo’s last name. She didn’t get a chance to respond before the guy pointed at the sign on the door.

It says you’re open Sundays.

Nibbling on the side of her thumb, Sass said, Yeah. Usually. But the boss, Buck Hogan, he’s out of town and… She didn’t get a chance to finish because at that moment Carlos walked in through the side entrance.

Sucking in a quick breath, Sass bolstered herself for what she had to do. It’d be best if she just got it out as quickly as possible, regardless of the jolly blond giant. She inhaled deeply and was about to spew the torrential confession she’d been planning all night…but the words didn’t come. Something was wrong.

Carlos walked toward her with his usual swagger. He took in Sass’s appearance and his eyes opened wide before a slow smile spread across his face.

What the…? He was acting like there was nothing wrong. As if his car wasn’t sitting outside smashed to bits. Where was the anger? Where was the temper tantrum? What the hell was going on?

I didn’t think you’d be here today, Carlos said as his gaze swept appreciatively over her one more time.

I-I had to come in because, ah… She chewed on her lip as she glanced at the Goliath standing in the entrance. For the first time she noticed his flushed cheeks and the way his hands continued to open and close by his sides as if trying to contain some unnamed emotion.

It was then that Carlos noticed the guy standing there, too. Yo, Jordie. I have to tell you, man, she looks even worse in the light of day.

The giant closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Yeah. I know. Want to come out and take a closer look?

Yep.

Sass frowned. She was missing something here. Something crucial. As Carlos followed Blondie out the front door, Sass scurried to the window, almost tripping as her ankle twisted in her silly shoes. What she saw out the window made her mouth drop and she groaned as if she’d just had a tooth pulled—without anesthetic.

No way!

There were two ’67 Mustang Fastbacks sitting outside. One that was destroyed, by her hand, and one that was parked, pristine as all get-out, like some evil being sent to mock her.

No! It wasn’t possible!

The cars were the same make, same year, had the same dual striping down the hood. What were the chances? They were even both blue, although now that they sat side by side, she could see that one of them was Arcadian blue and the other Brittany blue. How could she have made that mistake?

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

She’d smashed the wrong car!

Chapter Two

Sass used every expletive in her arsenal and even made up a few as she paced across the concrete floor, wearing the little plastic heel caps down to the metal pegs. Stupid shoes.

What was she going to do? What the hell was she going to do?

Returning to the window, she stared out at her handiwork as she chewed her thumb raw. She could see the two men talking as they surveyed the damage. Moments later, Carlos broke away and walked toward the shop but Sass was glued to the window, unable to tear her eyes away from the biggest mistake of her life.

With a hand to her stomach, willing herself not to get sick, she barely registered Carlos’s presence as he grabbed a clipboard from the wall, pulled a work order from the filing cabinet, and sidled up behind her. Clasping her shoulder he leaned his hips into her. Softly he whispered in her ear, "You look good, cielito."

She shrugged off his cheating hands. He always did this, tried to sneak in little touches when no one was looking. They’d agreed to keep their relationship a secret because they worked together and because of her father, Buck. But now his covert touches made her want to punch him. In the face.

He tilted his head. What’s wrong?

She opened her mouth to confess but instead, the words, We’re done, came out in the very same cool, collected voice she’d imagined minutes ago.

"Qué?" Carlos grabbed her shoulder.

Shrugging his hand off, she said, This, motioning indifferently between them, isn’t doing it for me anymore. I think we should just go back to being friends.

Carlos didn’t have time to respond before Al McGregor walked in followed by Manny Santos, two long-time mechanics at Hogan’s.

Heya, Sassafras. What’s shaking? Thought you had the day off? Al glanced at the clock and marked down his time on the card.

Al. Did he notice she greeted him without the usual, Al-e-gator, or Al-a-bastard today? Sass hoped not, but there was nothing she could do. She definitely wasn’t in a teasing mood, not today. Just stopped in to pick something up. She grabbed a parts requisition form and held it up. Then I’m on my way to… Sass paused and cleared her throat, hoping no one heard the deliberately vague quality to her voice, to, ah, Chesterville, to see Millie.

Millie Delacroix?

Sass nodded emphatically.

Say hello to the old girl for me, will you?

Sass blinked and smiled. She had no intention of paying Millie a visit, though it was her regular Sunday routine. She was way too razzed and her former English Lit teacher would see through her immediately. But Al didn’t need to know that. Sure, Al, I’ll tell her you said so.

When Al and Manny moved out of earshot, Carlos moved in. What’s going on?

Nothing. Sass pressed her lips together to keep the trembling at bay. She turned around and wrote some nonsense on the form. She couldn’t risk Carlos seeing her face right now. I just think it’s time, she said over her shoulder. You know?

He didn’t reply, but he also didn’t move. She could hear him behind her, breathing slowly, and she could feel his eyes on her back. She finished writing, folded the form in half, and turned to face him.

So, Carlos scanned her from top to bottom, eyes narrowed. Where are you going all dressed up like that?

Her hands fisted, inadvertently crumpling the form in her hand. What are you insinuating?

You look good, like you got a date or something.

No way. It took every grain of self-restraint to keep from slapping him. He was accusing her of being with someone else? Of all the dirty-rotten-rat-bastard things to say.

Yet, there was a part of her that was tempted to tell him she did have a date. Maybe she’d tell him it was with the dude from outside. Just to see his reaction. However, unlike last night, she managed to control herself. With some reserve of composure she had no idea she possessed, she stared Carlos in the eye. I don’t have a date, Carlos. I just like this outfit.

She pushed past him, striding through the shop with as much dignity as her ridiculous shoes would allow. Shoving the front door open, she nearly ran smack into the blond colossus standing on the other side. She put a hand on his biceps to move him out of the way.

Holy. The guy was built like a rock. Someone big and strong like him could do some serious damage. Sass’s stomach sank. What would he say when he found out she had totaled his car? What would he do?

Her knees buckled.

You okay?

Mmhmm. She made a wide circle around him. It was one thing to lie to Carlos—the king of liars—quite another to lie to a complete stranger. Particularly one as gargantuan as this dude.

What do you think? Quite a mess, isn’t it?

Huh?

He motioned to his car and she moved her head in a vague nod before heading toward her car.

Who would do this?

Damn, the guy was relentless. The last thing Sass needed right now was to discuss the car she’d smashed with the owner of said car. But it was now or never.

Sass stopped and slowly turned around. She took a deep breath.

She licked her lips.

She cleared her throat.

Spill Sass. Spill.

I-I…don’t know who’d do this. Bikers, maybe?

Dammit! Where the hell did that come from? Why didn’t she tell him? She wanted to. She really, really did. But then she didn’t. Maybe because there was a small war taking place inside her brain.

No one knows it was you.

Tell him.

You can get away with it, Sass. Just fix it, better than it was before.

Tell him. Right now!

Sass glanced up at the blond giant, then at his car, and then back at him. For the second time that morning, her mouth spoke without permission from her brain. Yeah, it’s bad. It’s going to need a lot of work. And with the windshield smashed like that? You should just leave it here until we can get to it. I can give you a lift someplace if you like.

Sure. If it’s no trouble. I’m staying at the Greenwood Inn. He tilted his head to one side, a dimple showing up in his cheek when he smiled.

No trouble, Sass lied. She motioned to the Corvette with her chin. It’s this car. Once her back was turned, she shut her eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.

What the hell was she doing?

Sass slid into the driver’s seat, buckled her seat belt, started the car, and waited with pretend patience while the victim of her crime buckled his belt. Okay. All she had to do was drive the dude back to the inn and act as if nothing was wrong. As long as the cops didn’t sniff her out, she was safe. Of course, it wouldn’t take much digging to figure out that all tire irons pointed to her, but she’d deal with that moment if and when it came. Right now she had to focus on getting rid of Blondie and then she’d fix his car, free of charge.

But damn, the guy was taking forever getting his seat belt on. You need help there?

No, I got it. He flashed a killer grin at her and Sass cringed. Popping the car into first she concentrated on moving slowly out of the lot. It took continued restraint to keep from speeding the entire distance to the inn. Of course, they had to get stuck at the only red light in town.

C’mon. Green already!

I haven’t had breakfast yet. Is there any place in town you’d recommend?

Not really.

O-kay.

Sass glanced out her side window. Cool, Hogan. Play it cool. No smart-ass remarks. She glanced back at Jordan. I mean, there’s the restaurant at the Inn, but their service sucks. There’s Bean There Café, but that’s mostly pastries and muffins and stuff. If you want a full breakfast, they make really good omelets out at the truck stop on the interstate.

Sounds good. As long as it’s no trouble.

No trouble at all.

When the light finally changed, Sass pulled a U-turn and headed for the exit to the freeway. So she’d have to play it cool for a little longer. She could do it. It didn’t matter that fire ants were crawling up her legs and eating the lining of her stomach. What was ten more minutes? She could be pleasant for another ten minutes. Then she’d go someplace quiet—the cabin, it was secluded out there—and she could curse and scream at the top of her lungs without fear of being heard. Yes, once she was at the cabin, she could have a complete and proper breakdown.

…

Jordan studied the woman sitting beside him. She was an enigma. Dressed to kill in a microscopic skirt and tight, red tank top, she was a treat to look at but her abrupt responses and phony smiles had him puzzled…and nervous. Did she recognize him? Had she figured out that it was no coincidence that his car was a near replica of Rodriguez’s Mustang? Did she know he was a Carlyle from Carlyle’s Classics?

One thought of the smashed Mustang and Jordan’s throat and chest constricted. He was in deep shit. The car didn’t even belong to him. It was a shop asset and it was supposed to go to auction next week. Well, not anymore. It was going to be a week if not more before the car was fixed. Not to mention the small fortune it was going to cost to do it. He just hoped to hell it was worth it. As much as it had never been his plan to see the Mustang totaled, the fact of the matter was, it did give him a legitimate excuse to find out what was going on at Hogan’s, which was the reason he was in Greenview in the first

Reviews for Mustang Sassy

[hcollins_25 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

First thing I want to say is this is an actual book! Over 300 pages AND is NOT a cliffhanger! Now with that said.... With the exception of a mustang getting hurt in the making of this book, I enjoyed it a lot ;) ! The characters were a lot of fun. I also really enjoyed the authors writing style. Will definitely be checking out more books by her. I received an ARC from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.