The garage around us fades away, my focus narrowing to Sandra's face, to the slight parting of her lips, to the question in her eyes. This time, there's no car horn to interrupt us, no reason to pull back except my own reservations.
And suddenly, those don't seem as important as they did yesterday.
I move closer, setting the rocker arm on the workbench without looking. Sandra tilts her chin up, anticipation clear in her expression. My heart hammers against my ribs as I reach up to cup her cheek, my thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip.
"I'm going to kiss you now," I tell her, giving her a chance to pull away if I've misread the situation.
"Finally," she whispers, leaning into my touch. "I thought you'd never get around to it."
That's all the encouragement I need. I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that starts gentlebut quickly becomes something else entirely. Her mouth is soft and warm, opening eagerly under mine. She tastes like coffee and something sweet, and I'm instantly addicted.
She makes a small sound in the back of her throat, half sigh and half moan, and it goes straight to my groin. My hand slides from her cheek to the back of her neck, holding her steady as I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring the warm recesses of her mouth.
Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer. I back her against the workbench, my free hand finding her waist, fingers digging into the soft curve of her hip. She arches into me, our bodies aligning in a way that makes my breath catch.
I've never been so thoroughly lost in a kiss. I'm vaguely aware that we're in the middle of my garage, that Marcus could walk in at any moment, that this is wildly unprofessional. But none of that matters compared to the feel of Sandra in my arms, her body soft and pliant against mine.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Her eyes are dark, pupils dilated with desire. Her lips are swollen from my kiss, and a flush has spread across her cheeks.
"Wow," she breathes, still gripping my shirt. "That was..."
"Yeah," I agree, unable to form more coherent thoughts. My body is thrumming with want, every nerve ending alive and firing. I want more. I want everything. I want to take her upstairs to my apartment above the garage and spend hours exploring every inch of her body.
But it's too soon for that. And it feels wrong. The apartment has always been just a place I crash when work runs late or I'm too exhausted to make the drive home. This thing between us is new and fragile, and I don't want to rush or cheapen it, no matter how much my body protests.
"I've been wanting to do that since you walked into my garage," I admit, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.
Her smile is slow and satisfied. "Same. Even when you were being all grumpy and intimidating."
"I bet," I tease, surprised at how easy this feels. Flirting isn't usually my strong suit, but with Sandra, the words come naturally.
"Maybe," she concedes with a laugh. "I've always been drawn to the brooding type."
"I don't brood," I protest. "I contemplate."
"Sure you do." She pats my chest, her hand lingering over my heart. "Very deeply and darkly."
I capture her hand, bringing it to my lips to press a kiss to her palm. Her breath catches, eyes darkening again.
"Diesel," she says, voice husky. "If you keep looking at me like that, we're not going to get any work done today."
"Would that be so bad?" I murmur, dropping another kiss to the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse jump beneath my lips.
The sound of the front door opening breaks the spell. I step back, creating a respectable distance between us just as Marcus walks in from his lunch break.
"Boss, I got those parts you ordered for the..." He trails off, glancing between us with raised eyebrows. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No," I say firmly, though the knowing smirk on his face tells me he's not buying it. "Just explaining some of the restoration process to Ms. Hemmings."
"Uh-huh." His grin widens. "Must be a real hands-on demonstration."
I glare at him. "Don't you have a transmission to rebuild in bay three?"
"Going, boss." He holds up his hands in surrender, still grinning as he backs away. "Don't mind me. Just passing through."
Once he's gone, Sandra bursts into giggles. "Well, that was smooth. I'm sure he has no idea what was happening."
"He'll live." I run a hand through my hair, frustrated by the interruption but also relieved. Things were escalating quickly, and while I want Sandra, I want her properly. Not rushed against a workbench with my apprentice in the next room.
