She probably would have if she’d thought about it. It occurred to Libby that Sam seemed to know an awful lot about her, but she really didn’t know much about him. He suddenly seemed mysterious to her—there was a life standing behind that badge and the warnings to obey the rules, and she knew only bits and pieces of it.
“Yeah, this is going to have to come out,” Tony said.
“What?” Libby asked, alarmed. “Listen, I don’t have a lot of money. As in none. I can’t afford parts.”
“Parts!” He scoffed. “I don’t do parts. I rebuild.” He wiped his hands on his pants, and Libby thought that the man definitely needed a clean pair. “It’s going to take some time. Maybe a couple of days.”
“A couple of days?”
He looked down at her car. “Well, if you want to rely on it, it needs to run. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” she said carefully. “But I don’t have the money to pay you for that kind of work.”
“Don’t get all bent out of shape—we’ll work something out,” he said.
Libby didn’t know how they were going to work anything out, but he was already under the hood with his wrench, turning something.
At half-past six, he was still working, and she was a little frantic.
Libby was in the kitchen, baking banana nut bread she’d made from the fruit Luke had bought and then not eaten. She had gone down to the garage twice to offer Tony something to eat, and both times he’d informed her matter-of-factly that he only ate one meal a day, and never while he was working. She wanted to go down there again and beg him to stop, that there was no way she could ever pay him.
Libby saw the swerve of headlights turn onto the road as she checked the loaf, and recognized Sam’s truck. The shoulder from the local meat market had arrived, and Libby decided to stay inside, because she didn’t care to feel the icy blast from him again. She heard the truck stop, heard the low hum of the engine idle and a door slam. Apparently, he was in as much of a hurry to get out of here tonight as he had been earlier today.
Moments later, she heard voices, truck doors shutting, and then the unmistakable sound of Sam’s boots on the porch stairs.
He knocked on the door.
The dogs, sprawled in every doorway between her and the front door, lifted their heads, their ears rotating toward the door. Roscoe began to growl. Libby put her hands on her hips, debating.
He knocked again.
“Okay,” she said to the dogs. “I’m going to answer, see what he wants, and not engage. Got that?”
Roscoe responded with a thump of his tail.
Libby walked to the front door, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand before opening the door.
Sam was standing with his hands in his pockets. He’d shaved, and his hair was combed. And he was dressed in a suit and tie. “Evening,” he said.
It took Libby a moment to respond, because she wasn’t used to seeing him without a badge or a gun. Or looking so hot. He didn’t look official or intimidating, he just looked . . . hot. Jesus, had he always been this handsome?
One of his brows arched above the other as she let her gaze slide down his body and up again. “Is there something wrong?”
“Yes! I’ve never seen you in a suit.”
“Well now you have,” he said. “If you’ve got a minute, there is something I need to speak to you about.”
“Why? I haven’t been to town.”
Sam could not suppress a small smile. “Believe it or not, for once, this is not about you. It’s about your car.”
“Oh, great,” she said, steeling herself. “Go ahead, give me the bad news.”
“Tony thinks he has a way for you to pay him. Do you want me to freeze to death out here, or will you let me in a minute?”
She glanced down at the dogs, all of them standing between her and the door. “Where’s Tony?”
“He’s in the truck, wolfing down a burger I brought him. This will only take a minute,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I’m running late as it is.”
Libby leaned over the dogs and pushed the screen door open. All four of them quickly darted out and around Sam, running down the steps as if someone had called them.
Sam stepped in and stood just inside the door.
“You know . . . you look nice,” Libby said, nodding approvingly. He looked more than nice, he looked completely delectable.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“Going somewhere fun?” she asked, peering closely at him. “Dinner and a movie, maybe? Or, wait, a concert? Are there any concerts in Pine River tonight?”
“I don’t know—maybe you should Google it. So listen, Tony took a look at your car. And the Buick, for that matter. He says they both need some major work, nothing he can do in a day. It might take him a few days to get both up and running smoothly.”
“I knew this would happen,” Libby groaned. “I’m low on cash, Sam.” As in completely tapped out, save the bottom-of-the-barrel living expenses.
“That’s okay. Because what Tony wants is a place to stay for a few nights and food. That’s all.”
“How could he not want to be paid?” Libby asked, surprised.