“And what type of book boyfriend hero is Antonio supposed to represent?”
“The wrong-side-of-the-tracks fixer-upper.” The train screeched to a halt. “This is our exit.” She stood and turned to face the doors. As soon as they opened, she swept out with the rest of the passengers and made her way to street level. There, she slipped on her sunglasses and opened her phone to check for directions. “This way.”
Stone slid on his own pair of dark sunglasses. “What’s the name of the place?”
“The Wrenchfather Repair.” She tucked her hand into his arm just as the siren of a car they were walking by went off, causing her to jump.
Stone didn’t jump. Instead, he frowned. “Fixed, my ass,” he muttered under his breath.
Deciding not to ask about a comment he’d obviously not meant for her to hear, she said, “After the interview, we can grab lunch at one of the restaurants. I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on. For instance, I’m still not dating anyone. How about you?”
“No one.”
As they entered the garage, the smell of oil and metal filled the air. Sophie raised her camera, ready to capture their first potential book boyfriend in his natural habitat.
“No cameras allowed,” said someone off in the distance.
Sophie took the shot of the exterior and quickly lowered her camera, glancing around to see where the voice had come from. It appeared to have come from nowhere. “Did you see who spoke?” she asked Stone.
“No. But I see a lot of surveillance equipment. I’m guessing someone inside is watching.” Stone dropped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her in close, just as a cloud blacked out the sun. Another muffled curse from Stone.
“You okay? I feel like every little thing is agitating you. A car alarm goes off, you mutter. Sun goes behind a cloud, you curse?”
“Never better,” he whispered, as they ventured deeper into the world of wrenches and car parts.
“Remember, with every interview, we’re bringing my dreams to life, so please don’t fuck it up,” she said sweetly.
He chuckled. “Got it.”
Sophie and Stone approached the only mechanic on location. He leaned confidently against a classic car, his broad shoulders draped in a grease-stained work shirt. His hair was slicked back, revealing a hard, unsmiling face with sharp eyes that seemed to miss nothing. A thick gold chain hung around his neck, glinting under the sparse lighting as he crossed his tattooed arms with an air of casual menace.
Going strictly on appearances, he was a perfect fixer-upper.Please let him show signs of hidden lovability under all that hardness.“Hi, I’m Sophie.”
The guy slowly wiped his hands on a clean rag. The action, combined with a scratchy radio playing in the background, cast an edgy backdrop to her hopes.
Finally, he bestowed upon her an easy smile that vanished all her worries. “I’m Antonio. What brings you to my shop?” Like icing on the cake, he had a dreamy Italian accent to go along with the whole wrong-side-of-the-tracks bad-boy persona.
She practically bounced from stiletto to stiletto with happiness as they shook hands. “We’re scouting for a special feature,” Sophie explained, trying to keep it vague but interesting. “I’m looking for real-life heroes to interview.” She raised her camera and snapped a photo of him before he could stop her.
Antonio laughed, a booming sound that filled the garage. “Darling, taking photos around here is asking to have your camera broken. Among other things.”
With his arm still around her shoulders, Stone shifted slightly, his body subtly angling toward her in a silent promise of protection.
“Sorry,” she said, wiggling out from under Stone’s arm. “I’m just so excited I forgot. This, by the way, is my boyfriend.” She gestured toward Stone. “His name is Stonie. Well, actually it’s Stone, but his middle initial is E., so I call him Stonie. He loves it. Did I mention my middle initial is also E?”
Antonio studied her as if trying to decide if she was a true ding-a-ling or if she had ill intentions. When his gaze landed on her shirt, and then Stone’s, his whole demeanor changed. “Quit the bullshit. I know why you’re here.”
Sophie gulped and inched closer to Stone, her hand touching his bicep. “You do?” Lightning struck outside with a loud thwack.
“I’ve been told I was nominated for some chick’s book boyfriend nonsense. You’re that chick. And you”—he eyeballed Stone—“are the muscle.”
“I told you, he’s my boyfriend,” Sophie said, very, very glad Stone was here. Having him so close felt reassuring.
“Doll-face, I know muscle when I see muscle,” Antonio said.
As if the moment had been choreographed, a burly dude appeared, taking a wide-legged stance and showing the weapon tucked in his waistband.
“Just because you hire bullies to protect you doesn’t mean everyone does the same,” Sophie admonished. “You should be ashamed of yourself for calling me a liar.”
