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I open the hood and barely manage to bite back my gasp at the disaster hiding beneath it. “Nice name,” I mutter, propping the hood with one hand and poking around the radiator with the other. “You run it hot for long?”
She frowns. “I was halfway to Galveston before the little dashboard light stopped looking like a suggestion and more like an omen.”
The engine bay is a disaster zone with swollen hoses and coolant everywhere, the kind of self-inflicted wound I’d expect from a college sophomore, not someone who speaks in perfectly enunciated, judgmental sentences.
“Your timing belt’s shot to hell and your radiator’s leaking like a goddamn sieve,” I announce, wiping my hands on a rag.
She sighs, and for a moment, her armor slips. “That bad?”
“Yep.” No use sugarcoating it. Plus, her car is the least of my worries right now. At the moment, I’m fighting the urge to throw her gorgeous ass over my shoulder and head for the hills. Fucking Jim’s earlier words flash through my mind, and I realize the universe decided to take that motherfucker’s side. I turn back to the mess under her hood and switch back into work mode. “I’m sure we can fix it, but I have to get it back to my shop for a more in-depth look. I’ll tow it in.”
“Will you give me a ride, too?” She bites her bottom lip and steps closer. My nose perks up as her delicate fragrance hits me. Up close, she smells like jasmine and roses, and I’m instantly addicted.
“Hop into my truck while I hook up Sparkie.”
She laughs, a quick and unexpected burst of sound that catches me off guard, then makes a show of leaning into her car to grab her bag. When she gives her ass a little shake while humming to herself, I nearly come in my pants.
I can already see this one is going to give me a run for my money. And I couldn’t be happier.
She straightens up and gives me a little wink before walking over to my rig and sliding into the seat gracefully, adjusting her snug jeans with a gentle tug to keep them from rising too high. Her movements are casual, yet there's an effortless elegance to them, and I can't help but wonder if she's even aware of the magnetic effect she has on me.
I make my way back to connect the Fiat, feeling the gravel crunch under my boots with each step. Once the task is complete, I slide into the driver’s seat and slam the door shut with a satisfying thud. The air inside is warm and carries a faint scent of old leather and pine. She’s already busy adjusting the vent, her fingers deftly maneuvering it to redirect the cool air away from her face, which is slightly flushed from the sun.
"I'm not usually the damsel-in-distress type," she says after a pause, her voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. "Just FYI."
"Yeah, you seem more like the 'set the village on fire' type," I reply, my gaze fixed on the long, winding road ahead. The sun beats down mercilessly, casting ripples of heat across the asphalt. "What brings you out to this little slice of Texas hell?" The landscape stretches endlessly, a vast expanse of dry earth and scrubby plants, with the distant horizon shimmering in the afternoon heat.
She pauses, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "I had a job lined up on a cruise ship, but I don’t think I’ll make it to Galveston before they depart," she admits, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I fucking lie.
In truth, I’m not sorry at all that she’s stuck in Silver Spoon Falls. In fact, I’m planning to do whatever it takes to make sure she never leaves.
