It should’ve been loud and busy, with tools clanging and engines coughing while Avery shouted at the crew about timelines. Instead, it was just still.
Lulls like this weren’t common for us and I always forgot how much I hated them when I was so busy that I couldn’t see past the oil stains and metal. I really did hate them, though.
Since it was all I could really do right now to pass the time, I kept spinning lightly in the chair, mentally running through my to-do list for the renovations at my house, when I felt a subtle shift in the air.
I looked up immediately, my instincts on high alert. For a second, I thought it was because I’d sensed danger, but instead, I found myself faced with a guy who was standing just inside the doorway, looking like he was from a different world but had accidentally landed in mine.
Just like the bike, he didn’t belong in Quartz Pass. We didn’t build ‘em like this here. Even the most attractive guys in town were a buck short compared to this one.
Maybe a few bucks short.
Dark hair brushed the collar of his fitted T-shirt, framing a face so perfectly sharp and symmetrical that it had to be surgery over genetics. He looked at the world through poison green eyes lined with lashes longer than mine, his shirt stretching across a broad chest and sculpted arms.
Yep. He’s definitely not from here.
I stopped the chair with my heel and tilted my head as I met his gaze. “You’re either lost or you’re the guy who owns the fucked-up bike in my garage.”
A slow smile spread his lips, reaching his eyes and making the corners crinkle. “I might be that guy.”
“Might be?” I repeated, eyebrows arching. “Well, if you don’t want it anymore, you’re welcome to just leave her with us and go. It’s an expensive fix, so if you’re not sure, you should probably just forget about her.”
Those eyes widened and his head started shaking slowly back and forth. “I could never forget about her. She’s mine. I am, in fact, the owner of the fucked-up bike in your garage.”
I nodded, desperately trying to hold back a smile. In my experience, guys who looked like him didn’t usually have a wittyor modest bone in their bodies. This one, on the other hand, seemed to have both.
“Alright,” I said, folding my arms and dropping into my spiel before I ended up losing myself in his eyes. “Here’s your situation. We’re essentially looking at a complete rebuild of several very important components in your engine. They’re fried, but they’re also not the kind of parts anyone has just got lying around. We’ll have to order them in and it could take a few weeks for them to get here.”
He nodded like I’d just told him the weather forecast of a place that only ever gets one season. “Okay. So you meant it when you said it was an expensive fix.”
“I did. You can have her towed to Phoenix if you want. I can arrange it for you, but there will be a fee involved,” I said. “Thing is, you’re going to wait just as long, if not longer, and pay a much steeper price at a brand-name dealership than you will with us.”
He scratched lightly at his jaw. “Can you do it?”
“We can, and we’ve also got a friend who works on that brand specifically. He’s not local, so I’d have to call him in and there’s a fee for that too, but it’ll still be less than you’d pay at the dealership.”
His eyes focused fully on mine. “What kind of deal can you cut me if I just come in and help fix it?”
I blinked hard, then laughed, but he didn’t laugh with me. Instead, he just watched, obviously waiting for a response.
“Oh,” I said, the laughter abruptly cutting off. “You’re serious.”
“I tend to be when it comes to Martha.”
“Martha?”
He tipped his head in the direction of the workshop. “The bike.”
“You call herMartha?”
“It’s a good name. Strong. Classic.” He inhaled a deep breath and cocked an eyebrow. “So, do we have a deal?”
I glanced at his hands. It was an instinct I’d developed as a mechanic. People could fake a lot of things, confidence, competence, and even charm if they tried hard enough, but hands never lied.
His were rough and callused, slightly stained with oil in the creases like it had become part of his skin. Obviously, this wasn’t a man who just watched others fix things. He did it himself when he could, but still.
I didn’t know him and I wasn’t taking on a potential liability. “We’re not hiring right now.”
He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “That’s a damn shame. I’ve been bored lately and I’ve been working on her myself on the road. I might really have been able to help.”
