A/N: Thanks for all the alerts for my little snippets and, especially, for those who have reviewed.
"Wade, I need a favor," Zoe Hart breezed into the Rammer Jammer in his favorite pair of her silky little shorts as if they were still on friendly terms even though she'd thoroughly ruined his chances of winning The Bluebell Battle prize money because of her adolescent obsession with another man.
"Don't care," Wade sniffed out his dismissal in a manner that implied he smelled something rather rank and extremely foul before he moved with calculation toward the other end of the bar with his well-worn rag to avoid any further discussion with her.
"Actually," the petite doctor quickly followed after him atop her ridiculous designer heels as if the daft woman hadn't even heard a word he'd said, "It's more of a job."
"Not interested," Wade swiftly rejected her unknown offer in hopes that the brunette nuisance would simply go away so that the bartender could let his current dislike for her ferment until it thoroughly dulled his sense of heartbreak and bitter disappointment.
"But," she sputtered adorably in response, "you're the only one I know with the right expertise in this area."
"Doc, I know a little bit 'bout a lot of things," he retorted steadfastly trying to remain unmoved by her obvious ploy of flattery, "but I sure ain't no expert about any of them. Well, except one."
Normally, that last bit would have been delivered with his patented smirk that was guaranteed to eventually make every girl swoon but, today, with her, it was finally absent because there was no point in it anymore.
"Fine," Zoe shrugged her shoulders as if she was conceding this skirmish and started to turn away, "I'll just take Rose car shopping with me then."
"Well, hold on now, Doc," he couldn't help but stop Zoe from leaving the bar just yet after hearing that foolish notion because it just wasn't neighborly to let someone get fleeced. "Did you just say you were going to take a fourteen year old girl with you to buy a car?"
"Yep," she purposefully elongated the single syllabled word intentionally to get on his nerves with her dramatic cuteness before she added, "since the only guy I know who can really tell the difference between an alternator and a carburetor won't go with me."
"Y'all will end up pickin' the thing like it's a pair of dangly earrings if the kid goes along with ya. You'd best take Lavon," he tried to evade once more. "I'm sure he can help you pick out some freshly minted city slicker wheels that will be just as silly here in Bluebell as your swanky heels."
"See, that's the problem," she quirked her mouth to the side. "I'm not in the market for some high-end foreign job for my first ever car."
"Well, what the hell are you buying then," he asked with obvious confusion; unable to picture her behind the wheel of anything that didn't scream first class luxury with its staid tones and superior handling but his brain chose that inopportune moment to recall with total mind drugging clarity Zoe's sweet little frame straddled flush against his highly appreciative lap while they were both up close and real personal behind his Chevelle's wheel.
She flashed him a beguiling smile that was crowned by a gleam of raw, uninhibited, recklessness that Wade had longed to see mirrored in her expression for months as she exuberantly confessed, "I saw this convertible on-line that looks just perfect."
"Damn it, Zoe, you can't buy a car on the internet like it's some hoit- toity coffeemaker," he scolded her. She might be a highly educated doctor but when it came to real life learning, Dr. Hart often came up short of the curve. "You gotta' kick the tires first."
Doubtfully, the tiny brunette looked down at her impractical peep toed shoes and questioned, "Wouldn't that hurt?"
Sighing as he shook his head in exasperation, Wade sighed with his hands on his jean clad hips, "That's only an expression, Doc."
"So, if I'm not really supposed to kick the tires, what am I supposed to do," Zoe looked up at him with wide, open, and all too trusting dual pools of warm molasses. It was in that instant that Wade knew he was finally going to cave because there was no way any slick mouthed car salesman wouldn't see her as easy pickens.
With a defeated grimace, he literally threw in the towel he'd been using on the counter and replied, "You're gonna' wait for my shift to end so that I can go with you."
"Thanks, Wade," she sincerely offered. "You won't regret doing this with me."
Her sentiment was seemingly earnest but it couldn't help being a lie because he already did. However, things like this were Wade's penance until he was finally over one Zoe Hart once and for all. Watching her inherently swish her well-toned backside over to a table to wait for him in a way that was as thoroughly hypnotizing as any swinging pendant Wade knew that he'd be one hopeful step closer to regaining his equilibrium when Zoe had her own transportation. Then, maybe, she could go touring bars in other towns and leave him the hell alone.
She'd been simply amazing.
The sight of her chocolate tresses floating out behind her like happy streamers, the trill of her laughter doing a merry two step with the breeze as Zoe flew down the back roads from Mobile while he'd followed closely behind her, to ensure that her purchase was as mechanically sound as he'd thought was going to be another torturous delight for a very long time. It was like spying a wild bird, finally, break free of her gilded tether and take flight, soaring to heights she'd only imagined before and, though it shouldn't, it secretly pleased Wade that he'd been able to help give that sense of liberty to her.
As Shelley brought them a couple of longnecks to celebrate their successful negotiation, the bottles surface already beading with condensation in the early summer heat, Zoe pushed an envelope across the battered table at him in a matter of fact way.
Wade took a nonchalant swig of his beer and then nodded toward the packet, "What's that, Doc?"
"Your consultant's fee of course," Zoe smiled back all too enticingly for his own good before she wrapped her pliable lips around her own bottle for a nice, long sip of the cool brew. She looked comfortably content, settled even, among the patrons of the Rammer Jammer in a way he'd yet to see the normally impeccably styled physician since her hair was still slightly disarrayed and windswept from her first joyride with her new beauty.
"That's just a high falutin' way of giving me money that I ain't earned," he readily disagreed. His ego affronted for more than one reason but mainly because Zoe now seemed to think that she needed to pay him for simply helping her like he'd always done.
"That's not true," Zoe insisted listing off her justifications. "You will have more than earned it with your general automotive knowledge, your thorough mechanical inspections, and for knowing that I could get this model serviced here in town so that I wouldn't have to go all the way back to the dealership in Mobile."
"Yeah, Doc, less travel time for maintenance was really why you chose your new beau there," he scoffed at the her silly attempt to rationalize her impulsive decision when they both knew that the normally cautious physician had taken one look at that expensive little splash of brandy wine kandy coated paint and fallen head over stiletto heels in love with the '66 Malibu convertible. He had to admit that she looked damned fine perched upon the white leather bench seat and the strong, linear line of the vehicle's side profile certainly complimented her perfectly.
"Hey," she pouted teasingly, "don't mock my new baby. That's the best first date I've ever been on."
His breath hitched just a bit as Wade desperately tried to remember that Zoe was jawing on about her maiden ride in her new wheels and not the copious time they'd spent together that afternoon just talking while they'd walked around various auto lots but it was no use; something deep inside still wanted that same sentiment to be true about them as well whether he'd uselessly told himself that he hated Zoe Hart one time or a million so that he could get over her.
"Thanks again, Wade, I had a really good time," her honeyed tone softened, flowed through him like an extra smooth shot of Southern Comfort as it inebriated his senses making him slow to remember that the sneaky brunette had purposefully left that damn envelope on the table when she'd walked away.
"Hey, Doc, you left somethin," his voice rose to try and catch her before she disappeared into the setting sun but it was no use. Zoe Hart was already long gone.
Figures, Wade mentally groused for a minute before curiously fingering the crisp edge of what was top quality stationary just like its owner. Before he could stop himself, he was rifling through the envelopes contents and his eyes landed unhappily on the all too generous cashier's check. Damn, girl, he'd never been a charity case.
He was about to stalk out of the bar to chase after that snobbish little know it all and give her another sound piece of his mind when her feminine, looping scrawl surprised him even more than the bank draft had as the girl Wade thought he had to get over nicely thanked him once again for their date and hoped that he wouldn't wait too long before asking her for a second.
"Well, alright then," Wade proudly stated to no one in particular as he pocketed the check that was intended for Zoe's crafty little maintenance plan for her classic vehicle. As she'd explained, why pay somebody else in town when he was right next door and already familiar with the model that she'd purchased.
Finishing off the last of his beer in one long swallow, Wade couldn't help the devil may care grin now permanently fixed on his face because Southern women may know that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach but Zoe Hart was smart enough to know that the path to Wade Kinsella's forgiveness was letting him have free reign under her sexy hood. Well, at least one of them, he smiled even more as he confidently promised ...for now.