“Of course. We wouldn’t want to risk your safety. Did you hear any strange noises or feel like the van was driving differently?”
Saint shakes his head. “No, nothing like that.”
“When did you notice the check engine light come on?”
“About twenty minutes ago.” His hand rubs the back of his neck, and his cheeks turn slightly pink, like he’s nervous.
Why is he nervous?
“I know it’s probably nothing, and you think I’m silly—” he starts, but I shake my head.
“It’s not silly to take car safety seriously. I’m happy to take a look. If I could just get your keys, I’ll pull it around.”
Saint fishes the keys out of his pocket, his fingertips grazing mine again when I grab them. A shiver threatens to work its way up my spine at the contact, and I can’t brush it off as static this time.
No, there’s something about this man.
“Thank you so much, Mikey. I’m sorry if I’m taking you away from something else.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure we’ll have you out in a jiffy.” I give him what I hope is the reassuring smile I use on nervous customers.
I head out of the front door and get in his van to bring it to the open bay. The inside of his vehicle still smells faintly like vanilla, but the familiar scent of chocolate chip cookies has me glancing back behind the seat. I take in the variety of baking supplies and containers of cookies sitting on the floor behind the passenger seat. Saint must be a baker.
My mouth waters when I see the perfectly golden-brown treats. My dad wasn’t the best baker, but he had perfected my mom’s chocolate chip cookie recipe and would make them at least once a week when I lived at home.
I shake off the nostalgia and start the van up, double-checking the dashboard to see if the check engine light is on. It is, but there’s no other indication of what the problem could be.
I turn it off, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I contemplate what could be wrong. My gut is telling me it’s not something with the engine, and my intuition is rarely wrong.
I locate the lever to open the gas tank door and hop out. At first glance, the gas cap looks like it’s fine, but when I poke it, it shifts.
I roll my eyes and remove the cap fully before twisting it back on until I can hear theclickto confirm it’s secure.
I think that’s the only issue, but just to be safe, I pop the hood and take a look at the engine and surrounding parts. Nothing seems broken, loose, or misplaced, so I close it and start the van again. As an extra precaution, I get out the OBD2 scanner—a tool to help review error codes and diagnose issues—and everything comes back fine, just as I suspected. I take it for a lap in the parking lot to see if the check engine light comes back on, but it never does.
Silly man.
I park his van back in the front and make my way inside. Saint stands as I walk in, like he’s been waiting for me.
Duh. You were fixing his van.
“Good news. Your gas cap wasn’t tightened properly, so that’s what caused the check engine light. I checked everything else just in case, but I couldn’t find anything, and when I took it around the parking lot, the light went off.”
“Fuck, that was stupid of me. Thank goodness it wasn’t anything worse, I was worried I’d have to stay here all day.” He laughs awkwardly, but it dies off like he had to force it. “What do I owe you?”
“I’m not making you pay me for tightening your gas cap. Just make sure you’re hearing the click every time so this doesn’t happen again, okay?”
Saint grumbles something I can’t understand before he clears his throat. “Would you accept payment in the form of cookies instead?”
My mouth waters thinking about tasting one, but the cautious part of me is suspicious. What’s his game? Are they drugged? Is this some kind of scheme to kidnap me and keep me hostage in his basement?
I nearly snort at the thought. There’s no way someone would kidnap me.
“I don’t think?—”
“Cookies?Hellyes. Mikey, you’re not going to say no to cookies, are you? We never get sweet treats unless Merv leaves out day-old donuts.” I jump at Patrick’s eager tone. I forgot he was here.
Saint’s lips twitch like he wants to smile, and I find myself wondering what a full-on smile would look like. I’m sure it’s devastating. The kind of smile that would make me question my single status.
