**Warning: This story will contain underage sexuality. If you don't approve, don't read. If you don't care and want to read anyway, reviews are welcome and I use flames to keep my ass warm. Happy reading!**

Contrivance

Chapter 1

"Cheria, the transmission in your car needs to be rebuilt. I'm sorry."

This was the last thing she needed to happen. Her Chevy Malibu had gotten her from point A to B for the past year and a half, now suddenly it wanted to take a crap? Uncle Roy was the best mechanic in the city of Tampa, Florida, so if he couldn't fix it, in her eyes, nobody could. He ran his shop from out of his home, where she currently resided, and people from all over helped pay the bills. They trusted Roy; he used to have his own shop until the building he'd had his business in caved from the roof during a frightful storm. Out of power for days and not able to go anywhere was dreadful. Cheria would never forget that storm as long as she lived, especially since she'd been trapped in school during sophomore year. Luckily, she wasn't driving at the time because all of the cars in the high school parking lot had been demolished.

A frown marred her flawless tanned face. "What do you suggest, Uncle Roy?"

Roy Ferguson chewed his tobacco thoughtfully while surveying the damaged transmission and heaved a sigh, wiping his hands off on a towel. "I hate doing it, but I know a guy who could fix it and he won't charge an arm and a leg." He couldn't handle the heartbroken expression on his niece's face and had to help her, thinking of her as his own daughter.

"Uncle, I can't ask you…"

"You're not." He cut her off gruffly, pulling out a card from his dirty back jean pocket and handed it over. "His number is on the back. If anyone can salvage the transmission, it's him. His name is Jon." Slamming the hood down on the car, Roy leaned against it while cracking open a bottled water and downed half of it. "Get over there now and see if you can have it looked at. Call me with the estimate."

All Cheria could do was nod and slid behind the wheel of her vehicle, firing it up before pulling out of her Uncle Roy's garage. It was a bright sunny day in Tampa, Florida and she'd just gotten off school to hopefully find out good news regarding her car. Uncle Roy had been a mechanic for a long time, but never specialized in transmissions, always sticking to the basics. Now she had to rely on a man named Jon to hopefully fix her car.

Being 17 wasn't supposed to be this hard, not yet, right?

Jonathan Good was an adequate mechanic and a diamond in the rough, as far as he was concerned. He was at the top of his profession, running his own business and didn't charge a hand, leg and blowjob unlike some places. Given that he also tended to occasionally have a bleeding heart for lower class families or single moms, sometimes Jon had a hard time keeping his books floating above water. Somehow, someway, he tended to pull through every month and wasn't sure if it was his incredibly dumb luck or something else. Probably his charm, if he had to guess. He was definitely charming.

Stepping out of the bay into the sunlight, Jon reached down into the front pocket of his black workpants -black hid stains and grease- to pull out a relatively clean shop rag, wiping sweat off his face. Completely oblivious to the tiny smear of black oil he just smudged against his forehead. He wore a poorly white, now stained, beater that was soaked in sweat. Florida heat was a damp warmth, but man did he love it. His pale blue eyes narrowed when he heard, rather than seen, a vehicle coming, cocking his head to the side. Listening, Jon finally watched the vehicle slowing down. They were coming here and he could bet from both the sound and that smell, something was wrong with the transmission. He was really hoping it was bearings.

It was a miracle she'd managed to drive this hunk of junk across town without it falling apart on her. Cheria shook her head, wondering why her Uncle even bothered trying to fix it when it would probably be cheaper and easier on both of their bank accounts to simply buy another used vehicle. Be that as it may, she did what her Uncle commanded since he'd taken care of her all her life alongside Aunt Betty. They were her pride and joy, thinking of them as her parents more than Uncle and Aunt. The one time she tried calling them Mom and Dad, Betty corrected her with a soft smile and asked her not to do it. Cheria listened, not making the mistake again, even though it felt weird not referring them as her parents.

"Piece of shit." She muttered under her breath, stepping out of the vehicle and shut the door, pushing black shades on top of her head to reveal stunning emerald green eyes.

Her long dyed silver hair –Cheria went for a white blonde at first, but the dye job came out a splendid silver she fell in love with sophomore year and she'd kept it ever since- braided over both shoulders, parted to perfection. Her pale skin glowed in the white skirt she wore along with a white tank top, white sandals on her feet. Her nails on both fingers and toes were French manicured, getting them done once a month with Aunt Betty. Turning around, Cheria headed inside the building and waited at the tall desk for someone to assist her.

"Hold on!" A short woman with blonde hair –it was pulled back into the slovenliest bun imaginable and she had a sunburn that was more than likely permanent or a very bad experience with a tanning bed- came rushing into the office. "Sorry." She flashed the younger woman a smile and got behind the desk. "What can I help you with?"

"You could start by getting the hell out, Pearl. You don't even work here." For the life of him, Jon would never understand why this insane woman insisted on bugging the hell out of him. If he had to remind his other employees one more time that she was not allowed on the premises, let alone out in his garage, he was going to use a wrench to beat them to death. "Leave." He ordered, eyes narrowing as he watched her slowly back away towards the front door.

"Jonny, I-"

"Do the words restraining order mean anything to you?" Jon pinched the bridge of his nose and waited until he heard the bells ringing, indicating the door had opened and she was gone. He cracked open one eye and looked around, finally focusing on... the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid his gaze on.

This wasn't a good time it looked like, Cheria surmised, feeling eyes on her and looked up from her cell phone, feeling her breath hitch in her throat. The man was well over 6 feet tall, muscular, tanned and incredibly handsome. He had boyish looks, but was definitely all man too. Cheria swallowed hard when he came toward her, thankful she was already sitting down or else her knees would've buckled. The closer he came, she quickly noticed the intensity in his pale blue orbs and his head of curly auburn blonde hair was mostly hidden under a white and black bandana. The sweat stains on his beater didn't make her wrinkle her nose nor did the black streak of oil across his forehead. He had slight scruff outlining his jaw, but it wasn't a full-on beard and made him even more attractive.

"H-Hi…" Cheria stammered, pulling the card out and handed it over to the pale blue eyed enchanter with a soft shy smile. "My Uncle referred me to you for my car." That sounded incredibly lame. "I'm looking for a Jon Good? Is he here right now?"

Jon took the card, letting his fingers brush against hers and then looked down. He had given this to Roy quite some time ago. Roy was good people, he figured, as well as people got around this part of Tampa anyway. Tampa had several sides. It had the Hispanic side that tended to get rowdy. It had the rich people upper areas and a lot of low class ghetto sections as well, which he personally loved.

"You're Roy's niece?" He asked in a raspy voice, feeling the left side of his mouth curve up into a half smile. Jon had heard a tidbit or two, nothing major, but apparently Roy had been hiding her because she was a stunner. "I'm Jon." He then added after she nodded, extending his hand and took hers when it was hesitantly offered.

Pretty certain he just felt sparks, glad his hair was under a rag or else it probably would have straightened for a moment or two. The name fit him perfectly and Cheria felt butterflies erupt in her stomach fluttering all over. What was wrong with her? Yes, she was a virgin and hadn't dated much, keeping to herself even though she was on the cheerleading squad. Her friends wondered why she didn't go out partying like they did or have sex. Cheria wasn't into any of it, against peer pressure and focused on her studies so she could end up getting into a decent college after graduation. She had her future to think about. Currently, her small hand was swallowed by this large man's and the amount of heat coursing through her body made the temperature in the room upsurge steeply.

"It's nice to meet you, Jon." Cheria replied in a soft voice, not releasing his hand while their eyes remained locked. "I'm Cheria."

Personally, Jon was curious how Roy and Betty managed to keep this girl under wraps. "Cheria..."

Her name rolled off his tongue, vaguely recalling seeing her a handful of times when she was a baby and he was still fairly young, definitely not interested in infants. His head was doing the mental math and he stopped that quickly, not wanting to take a stab at her age or know it at all. She was probably too young for him, but good lord...Reluctantly, he let go of her hand clearing his throat.

"What's wrong with your ride?"

An involuntary shiver rushed through her the moment her name came out of this man's mouth and felt his hand leave hers, jolting her back to reality. "My Uncle thinks it's the transmission. He said you were the best and if anyone could fix it, you can." She recalled the praise her Uncle Roy gave this man and wondered if he was just full of hot air or actually knew what he was doing. Cheria had to trust her Uncle's judgment, however, fingering the keys nervously. "Would you have time to look at it today or are you too busy? I can bring it back tomorrow after school, if you want…"

"It's the transmission." Jon said instantly, reaching out to extend his hand, palm side up and crooked his fingers. He smiled crookedly as she deposited her keys in his palm, fisting them. "I heard you come in. I just finished up a client's car so I have time. You can wait in here," With the central air, which felt fantastic. "If you want, or you could come out in the garage."

His eyes slowly raked over her, noting the white skirt she wore. It would not remain white in this place for too long. Then, he took in those legs that went on a day and forever...Jon absentmindedly brushed the corner of his mouth with his knuckle, clearing his throat. She had no business going out into the garage, not having a clue about cars. That didn't stop Cheria from taking Jon's invitation, though. The central air did feel amazing, but she wanted to be near this man for some reason she couldn't fathom. The attraction was magnetic and she watched him raise her car up so he could look under it without the vehicle crushing him.

Cheria heard classic rock blasting from the other side of the garage and noticed another tall monstrous man headed their way. He had long raven tresses pulled back in a low tail at the nape of his neck, a black beater and pants similar to Jon's being his attire. Normally, customers were not allowed in the back to watch them work on their vehicles. This was his friend's business though and he knew the reason why Jon had let the silver haired beauty out here as soon as he laid eyes on her. His grey eyes moved to Jon and he squatted, rubbing his hands together in front of him with a grease towel.

"Need some help, bro?" He offered, not wanting Jon to overwork himself since the man didn't sleep much these days. Why, he had no idea.

"Sure man; if this thing falls, you catch it."

"What're we looking at?"

Jon blinked, realizing what the hell he was doing and gestured Joe out of the way. "One second, Cher."

He made sure she was out of the way before lowering the Chevy Malibu -he had seen better versions than this one, definitely a beater or 'first car' model if he had ever saw one- back down. Why he had raised it up on the hoist was beyond him. He opened the driver door and bent down to pop the hood, grinning sheepishly when Joe shot him a look.

"Transmission, man."

Jonny boy was distracted and Joe had to keep himself from snorting.

"N-No problem." Cheria felt incredibly awkward standing out here with another man helping Jon look at her vehicle and decided it was best to head back inside in the central air.

Joe waited until the door closed before popping Jon none too gently in the back of the head. "What the hell is wrong with you, man? Do you have any idea who that is?" He also knew Roy Ferguson – all of Tampa did since he helped coach several sports in the area and had the second best running mechanic shop, out of his own home no less. Jon was first, simply because he did everything while Roy stuck to the basics. "That's Roy Ferguson's niece and she's underage. So whatever ideas you got going on in that head of yours, nix them now."

"Man, you need to get your Samoan ass in that office, take her information for me and then come let me know when she's legal." Jon was only half-joking, the other half entirely serious because, if he had to wait a few months, he could. If Cheria was basically a year shy of being nothing less than a jail sentence, he would consider risking it.

"That's... not even right, bro, on so many levels."

"This thing is shot all to hell."

"Chevy would just charge her an arm and leg for one of their factory rebuilds..." Joe stroked his chin, eyeballing Jon and knew what was going to happen. "I'll go see if we got anything in the back..." They were going to rebuild this piece of trash transmission.

Jon went inside, whistling.