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I reached out, took the dirty plug between my fingers, and shoved it back in place. The fit was tight, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I had a strong hand when necessary. “That’s it. I bet if you go and try it now, the engine will kick over.”
Jesse’s eyes ran all over my face, taking in every line, every feature, and I let him take his fill. He wasn’t shy in his once-over, and when he finally moved out from under the hood, he did it like a man in some kind of daze.
“Okay, I’ll, uh— Give me one second.”
As he jogged around to the driver’s side, I moved out from under the hood to watch him go, and didn’t miss the fact he was still clutching my jacket in his hand. The rain had now soaked through my shirt, but I didn’t give a shit as I stood there watching him go.
The pliers sitting on the floor of my car had done the trick with the stubborn fucking spark plug, and when Jesse turned the key in the ignition and the car rumbled to life, his thumbs-up and joyful face told me I’d just landed at the top of his “most helpful” list. Exactly where I wanted to be.
I kept the car running as I jumped out, not wanting to test my luck and have it shut off the second the handsome good Samaritan left.
“You are a miracle worker,” I said, grinning at him as he shut the hood and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, wait, let me run inside and get you a towel—”
“There’s no need,” he said smoothly, holding out his hand. I stared at it for a second before realizing he was asking for his jacket back.
“Right, sorry.” I flushed again, but he only smiled at me. As I reluctantly handed him the jacket and he laid it over his arm, I regretted that I hadn’t taken the opportunity to lift the expensive material to my nose to memorize his scent for later. I bet he smelled amazing, like money and sex. As if he could hear my thoughts, the man cocked his head to the side and smirked.
Stop being such a perv, I thought, even as I took in the soaked white shirt that stuck to every muscle of his fit frame. The guy was in unbelievable shape, and as I continued to mentally undress him, I filed that visual away to use later tonight.
“I wish there was some way I could repay you,” I said, finally meeting his eyes.
The man seemed to think that over, and then he said, “Maybe a coffee?”
A coffee? “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t actually own a machine—”
He chuckled. “No, I meant maybe we could go out for coffee?” When I hesitated, mentally scrolling through my meager bank account, he said, “My treat.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t let you do that. I owe you for this. My treat.”
“Hmm. That you do. Are you free Friday?”
“Friday? Oh, for coffee. Right. Um…yeah, I’m off that day. Friday would be great.”
“Perfect.” A brilliant and white smile lit up his handsome face, and I could only blink at him. “My name is Salvatore, by the way. Salvatore Wolfe.” He held out his hand again, and this time I took it. As his fingers wrapped firmly around mine, his name rolled around in my head, something about it sounding vaguely familiar. Salvatore Wolfe…Wolfe… Hold on, this was the guy Brayden had mentioned owned the Wolfe’s Den? And he’d just asked me on a date…me?
No. No way. This couldn’t be happening.
“Jesse Clark,” I said, once I managed to find my tongue.
Salvatore’s hand was still wrapped around mine, strong and inviting. I liked the way it felt against mine, and I wondered what it would feel like on other parts of my body…
When he spoke again, his voice had lowered an octave. “It’s nice to meet you, Jesse.”
I could only nod, still caught up in his captivating stare.
“I suppose I should go now,” he said.
“Yeah, me too.”
Salvatore looked down at where I still had a hold of his hand, and I let it go like he’d caught fire.
“Right, sorry,” I said, averting my eyes so I didn’t show him just how much I wanted him to keep touching me. My gaze fell on his Aston Martin, and the contrast between our cars only highlighted the difference between the two of us. I am so in over my head.
“Are you a fan?” Salvatore asked, as he followed my stare.
Is he kidding? I nodded enthusiastically, my eyes still following the wicked lines of the sinful ride. “Definitely. It’s beautiful.”
“Yes. It is.”
When my gaze came back to his, I noticed he wasn’t looking at the car but directly at me, and the intensity of that stare made my knees feel weak.
“Right, well…” I said, backing away before I did something insane like, oh, I don’t know, beg him to stay. “I better get going before Pretty Baby decides she doesn’t want to work again.”
