Screwdriver

By Kiru Taye

For most of her adult life, boss-lady Oumou has wanted to leave her hometown in pursuit of big-city fame. All her closest friends are doing bigger and brighter things elsewhere; one is even dating a prince. However, her plans to leave small-town Bali are put on hold when the pandemic hits. At least there are some positives. She’s enduring lockdown with her friend, Yahya, who is her exact opposite in personality. But he’s sexy, easy on the eyes, and cleans up his messes. Opposites attract, right?

Mechanic Yahya has two obsessions—fixing damaged cars and his hometown of Bali. He has no desire for fame or fortune. Nevertheless, since flamboyant Oumou set up shop right across the road from his auto garage, he’s developed a new obsession with her. Each day at work, he glimpses her glorious smile and the temptation for her spirals. But why bother? She won’t even consider him—someone she labels as dull—and they are just too different to work.

Then Yahya and Oumou are stuck together as quarantine buddies, and their attraction combusts in the confines of the apartment. Soon the man so skilled at unscrewing her wheel-nut becomes the sexy hunk satisfying her every fantasy. But what happens when reality kicks in the door and their differences threaten to tear them apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Love Africa Press
• Release date: Oct 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005634001

Kiru Taye

As a lover of romance novels, Kiru wanted to read stories about Africans falling in love. When she couldn’t find those books, she decided to write the stories she wanted to read.Kiru writes passionate romance and sensual erotica stories featuring African characters whether on the continent or in the Diaspora. When she's not writing you can find her either immersed in a good book or catching up with friends and family. She currently lives in the South of England with her husband and three children.Kiru is a founding member of Romance Writers of West Africa. In 2011, her debut romance novella, His Treasure, won the Book of the Year at the Love Romances Café Awards. She is the 2015 Romance Writer of the Year at the Nigerian Writers Awards.

Book preview

First Published in Great Britain in 2022 by

LOVE AFRICA PRESS

103 Reaver House, 12 East Street, Epsom KT17 1HX

www.loveafricapress.com

Text copyright © Kiru Taye, 2022

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

The right of Kiru Taye to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Blurb

For most of her adult life, boss-lady Oumou has wanted to leave her hometown in pursuit of big-city fame. All her closest friends are doing bigger and brighter things elsewhere; one is even dating a prince. However, her plans to leave small-town Bali are put on hold when the pandemic hits. At least there are some positives. She’s enduring lockdown with her friend, Yahya, who is her exact opposite in personality. But he’s sexy, easy on the eyes, and cleans up his messes. Opposites attract, right?

Mechanic Yahya has two obsessions—fixing damaged cars and his hometown of Bali. He has no desire for fame or fortune. Nevertheless, since flamboyant Oumou set up shop right across the road from his auto garage, he’s developed a new obsession with her. Each day at work, he glimpses her glorious smile and the temptation for her spirals. But why bother? She won’t even consider him—someone she labels as dull—and they are just too different to work.

Then Yahya and Oumou are stuck together as quarantine buddies, and their attraction combusts in the confines of the apartment. Soon the man so skilled at unscrewing her wheel-nut becomes the sexy hunk satisfying her every fantasy. But what happens when reality kicks in the door and their differences threaten to tear them apart?

Author’s Note

Dear reader,

2022 has been a difficult year for me with personal challenges and family tragedies. Due to these factors, I’ve really struggled to write.

So, I’m grateful to finally bring you this story even though it’s only my second book this year. Screwdriver is a steamy romantic novella that explores the relationship between Oumou and Yahya who we first met in The Tainted Prince.

I hope you enjoy reading it.

Thank you so much for your continued support.

Love,

Kiru xo

Chapter One

This is so exciting! Oumou Merije squealed from the back seat of the SUV.

Yahya Ruga exhaled a sigh, barely concealing his lack of enthusiasm. He couldn’t summon any energy for the change in his plans. What had started as a trip to watch his cousin Danai play rugby—a game he loved—had turned into something else. Something he hadn’t planned for and, more importantly, didn’t need.

He was a creature of habit and found satisfaction in routine and planning. Abrupt alterations unsettled him, drained him of energy. As a teenager, he’d get anxiety attacks if there were massive revisions to his daily pattern. However, he’d learned to cope with sudden deviations as an adult. Changes were integral to life, no matter how much he disliked them.

Still, they sapped his vitality because his mind would play tricks on him, making him obsess about the missed activities rather than enjoy the deviations. So, he had to actively force his thoughts away from the compulsion.

Like now, he sat in the vehicle next to a liveried driver, a Bagumian royal family employee driving through a dark tree-lined tunnel into the mountain enclave. The swishing wipers focused his gaze out of the rain-splattered windscreen and helped to keep his mind away from compulsive thoughts. The headlamps illuminated a similar blacked-out car in front, part of the multiple vehicle convoy travelling from Darusa to Beya.

It should be a good night. That’s if the rain doesn’t spoil it, Danai’s voice drew him back into the vehicle. She sounded less enthusiastic, perhaps sitting on the fence between Oumou’s outright exuberance and Yahya’s guarded disinterest. Much like the bridging role she’d taken up in their three-way connection over the last few years.

The rain can’t spoil a party hosted by Prince Zik himself. Pa posib. Not possible. Oumou slipped into the local Creole briefly before continuing in English. This is going to be lit.

You’re right. His cousin snickered. You can’t rain on Prince Zik’s parade. The man knows how to have fun.

That’s what I’m talking about. Oumou burst into laughter.

The blissful sound turned Yahya’s stomach into warm goo like it sometimes did. Not an unwelcome sensation, yet not something he would acknowledge openly. Ignoring the feeling, he glanced at the women in the back row. Their effervescent joy was contagious.

He shook his head, unable to hide his slow smile, his wariness forgotten for the moment. One advantage of hanging out with his cousin and her bestie, their familiar presence took the edge of his unease.

It’s Oumou’s presence…

No! He squashed the thought before it could wander into fantasy territory.

This was about the group. He’d known Danai all his life, and they were tight. Their fathers were brothers—Hissene was older and his parent, while Ngarta was Danai’s dad.

Oumou had come along as a teenager when she’d moved to their hometown of Bali with her mother. She’d seemed lost, but Danai had taken her under her wings, and she’d become part of their little club. All three would hang together after school, mainly around Wandjoun Road, where Oumou’s mother had her kiosk next to Uncle Ngarta’s mechanic shop.

Things changed when Danai moved to Darusa, the Bagumian capital city, first to study at the university and then to work at the Bagumi Intelligence Service.

Yahya had taken up an apprenticeship at his uncle’s garage and qualified as a certified mechanic before eventually becoming a partner in the business. Oumou had gone to the local college while working with her mother to grow the convenience shop into the mini supermart she now owned.

Over the years, their childhood friendship drifted. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason, except that they grew up. They lived in the same small town and saw each other regularly—Oumou’s supermart was across the road from Yahya’s auto-shop. Yet, they barely spoke to each other except at family gatherings or when Danai was around.

To be fair, they had little in common besides Danai. Although Oumou’s mother had married Danai’s father, making her family.

His gaze returned outside as the car drove past a sign written in English, French and Beya. It announced: ‘Welcome to Beya Castle, home of Queen Obiong the Lion-Heart.’

They pulled into a gravelled clearing illuminated by security lights, and the car stopped outside the entrance of the impressive three-level mansion. The former gatehouse to the mountain fortress, the home of one of Bagumi Kingdom’s most remarkable monarchs, Queen Obiong, had been refurbished recently and renamed Beya Castle. Even on a dark, rainy night, the majestic opulence of the place was evident.

His scalp prickled, his unease returning. This was not his scene at all.

Kisa n ap fè isit la? What are we doing here? Yahya asked gruffly in the pidgin he preferred before he could think better of it, another consequence of his agitation. The Creole came naturally to him since he spoke it daily. However, English was the official language, and French was spoken in some regions. Sometimes conversations involved all three at once, and there were other local languages, so most Bagumians were multilingual.

Prince Zik invited us to the post-match party, remember? Oumou scoffed. "Seriously, you’re so boring. We’re not even inside yet, and wap plenyen deja."

Yahya’s spine stiffened, and his body overheated. He tugged at the shirt collar. I’m not complaining.

Sure, he was a private person and could be reclusive, limiting social interactions. He preferred to focus on work and tune out the world. Attending this party with strangers was a break from his humdrum life and made him uneasy. So perhaps he was boring, but he was happy with his dull life.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t sociable. He just preferred those he knew, people he trusted. Unfortunately, these wealthy royals were not his people. They lived in a different stratosphere and were known to be unapproachable.

You can go home. Oumou rolled her eyes heavenwards. The car doors opened, and she stepped out.

I can’t, Yahya refrained from saying, biting his tongue instead.

Danai’s new job at Darusa Palace as Prince Zawadi’s chief bodyguard meant she participated in today’s exclusive rugby event. She’d sent invitations to Yahya and Oumou. Since they lived in the same town, Yahya had offered to drive. No point in making the four-hour round trip in separate cars. He’d assumed they would travel back to Bali straight after the game. Instead, Prince Zik had invited his winning teammates and their guests to his party, so here they were.

But Yahya wasn’t a party animal. Hanging out with over-indulged princes was not him, no matter how much he respected the Bagumian royal family. He had nothing against them. Still, he didn’t want to necessarily spend his free time with them and their friends. He was a simple man. He would rather have headed home and gotten some sleep. Unfortunately, he had to rise early tomorrow to make the return journey because his business was short-staffed. One of his most-experienced mechanics was unwell. The others couldn’t handle everything themselves.

But he wouldn’t bother explaining himself to Oumou. He didn’t care if she thought he was boring.

You care, the small voice reminded him.

Grrr, he growled in frustration, scrubbing his palms over his face. Perhaps he should have returned to Bali this evening and left Oumou to find her way home. She could take public transportation in the morning.

He imagined the hassle she would endure, sitting in a crowded public bus for the three-hour-plus journey and sighed. He couldn’t abandon her no matter how much this situation aggravated him. It was his responsibility to ensure she returned home safely and hassle-free. If it meant tolerating hours of loud music and rowdy people, then so be it. He never evaded his obligations.

A cool hand settled on his shoulder, and he glanced back into Danai’s reassuring gaze. He’d forgotten she was still in the idling car.

I’m sorry I didn’t give you notice about this party. I would have done so if I’d known in advance, she said in a soft tone, showing her understanding of his condition.

She’d always been protective, one of the reasons she was brilliant at her job as an agent in the BIS.

"Mwen konnen. He puffed out another sigh. I’m not trying to take away your fun."

If he’d known before leaving home this afternoon for the Princes vs Guards Rugby-Sevens match at Darusa Palace that he would have to attend an afterparty, he would have adjusted by now. Instead, the impromptu invitation had screwed up his plans, hence his lukewarm outlook.

However, if anyone deserved tonight’s entertainment, Danai did. He’d watched her play rugby earlier today, the only female athlete in a field of twenty-four players—opponents included. And she’d scored one of the tries, which helped her team win.

Great. Her eyes sparkled with warmth as she smiled. Because I need this. It’s been a hectic month, and I need to relax and not think about work.

He didn’t need any further prompting. She worked too hard. They all did. But today was the first time they’d been together in weeks. So perhaps they’d earned the right to be here, hanging out with the royals.

Let’s do it. He stepped into the drizzly night. A uniformed royal employee approached with a large grey umbrella emblazoned with the purple and gold imperial emblem.

Rows of cars lined the drive—sleek, sporty ones and blacked-out SUVs like the one he’d just exited. Seeing the vehicles gave him a flush of adrenaline. He loved cars—contemporary or classic, fast or functional.

He was a mechanic, after all, and part-owned a garage in a small town on the eastern end of Bagumi. His life revolved around repairing damaged automobiles. His one true calling and obsession.

This way, sir, the man with the umbrella ushered him towards the entrance, following Oumou and Danai.

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