She lifted one hand in a lazy wave, her towel-now-skirt from last night long gone, replaced by her go-to uniform of grease-stained cargo pants, a black tank top, and a stubborn ponytail barely contained beneath her helmet.
They were good guys.
Mostly harmless.
And definitely not her type.
She turned toward the side warehouse, its tall sliding doors already cracked open to let in the breeze, and coasted the scooter into the shadow of the overhang. The air shifted instantly—cooler, quieter, a haven of steel, sweat, and forgotten tales from the sea.
She was just swinging off the seat when two brawny arms caught her around the waist and lifted her clean off the ground.
“Gotcha!”
“Carlos!” she yelped, half-laughing, half-scowling. “Put me down before I jam a spark plug into your ear!”
He spun her with practiced ease and set her down, only to lean in and plant a loud, obnoxious kiss on her cheek when she turned her head at the last second. She playfully punched him in the stomach—hard enough to make him grunt.
“One of these days, I am going to deck you,” she warned, brushing him off with mock irritation. “You’ve been asking for it since Tunisia.”
Carlos grinned, utterly unrepentant, his teeth white against sun-darkened skin. “You’d miss me.”
“Like I’d miss food poisoning,” she muttered, tugging open the scooter’s storage bin and exchanging her helmet for her backup tool bag with a grunt.
“How’s Maria?” she asked, feigning innocence even as she braced herself.
Carlos’s grin faltered. “Gone,” he said dramatically, holding a hand over his heart. “Left me for a pastry chef in Santorini. Can you believe that? A man who bakes! I never stood a chance.”
Dani groaned. “Carlos…”
“Don’t feel bad for me,” he said, brightening like the human embodiment of a bad idea. “Now that I’m single again, you can finally admit you’re in love with me.”
“Not in this lifetime,mi amigo.” She shoved him backward with a foot.
He cackled and danced away, dodging her second kick. “So, what’s on the docket today,mi sirena mecánica?”
“Rebuilding the heads on those twin inboards from the Mistral,” she replied, slinging the bag over her shoulder and jerking her chin toward the ladder leading into a weather-beaten fishing trawler elevated on supports.
“Fancy. I’ve got a few outboards from that rental place in the next bay.” He glanced at her sideways. “How’d the job go yesterday? The mega yacht—you know, the one everyone is talking about? Was it everything you imagined and more?”
Dani’s fingers curled tighter around the handle of her bag. “It was a job,” she said flatly, already climbing the ladder.
Carlos watched her go, brow furrowed, before he shrugged. “I’ll check on you later. Try not to electrocute yourself or fall in love with someone else without telling me, okay?”
“Please go beg Maria for forgiveness so I don’t have to babysit you,” Dani shot back over her shoulder.
“You wound me,” Carlos called out, hand over his heart again. “But I still love you. I know you will one day love me back!”
She rolled her eyes, lifted her hand, and waved him off without turning around. His laughter followed her up the ladder.
Dani dropped her bag with a thunk next to the engine compartment and pulled the tarp off the engines. Her hands were already moving on autopilot—checking, unscrewing, inspecting while her mind wandered.
The physical work soothed her. Or at least, it normally did.
But no matter how deeply she buried herself in carburetors and timing chains, Alexandros Kallistratos’s face kept drifting into view. Those maddening dark eyes. The way his voice had curled around her name like smoke. The absurd, inconvenient, undeniable way her body had reacted when he touched her.
What the hell was wrong with her?
It had been almost four years since she’d felt even a flicker of interest in someone—and the last time had been a disaster. If her grandfather hadn’t been there to talk reason into her head, if she hadn’t finally listened—really listened—to the warning in her gut, things could have turned out much, much different.
