The only difference was that Miley also knew how hard of a hit I’d taken when my ex-fiancée had married my other friend just six months after I’d found out they’d been sleeping together behind my back. The revelation had pretty much destroyed whatever romantic optimism I’d once possessed.
I was good alone.Better off, honestly. At least I know I won’t betray myself the way Hunter and Farrah betrayed me.
The stranger with the motorcycle flickered briefly through my mind, those poison-green eyes, the oil-stained hands, and the weird, calm air of confidence. I immediately shoved the thought aside. Miley could practically read my mind, so?—
“What was that face?” she asked, leaning forward a little across the counter.
Fuck. Too late. I shouldn’t have thought about him at all around her.“What face?”
“That face you just had.” Her eyes widened. “Are you secretly seeing someone? Tell me everything.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Before she could interrogate me further, I stood up. “Look, I bought an old house on a big piece of landandit’s outside of town. Just getting supplies is an hour round trip and there’s a lot to be done out there, not only with the house, but maintaining the land as well. I’m not hiding. I’m not seeing anyone. I’m just renovating.”
She eyed me for another moment before she grabbed a to-go cup, filled it, snapped on a lid, and shoved it toward me along with a wrapped slice of pie. “It’s cherry and it just came out of theoven. Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you, but think about going on a date, okay?”
“I’d rather lick a battery.” I pumped my eyebrows at her, swept my coffee and pie off the counter, and headed out.
I knew she was worried about me, and sure, Fancy Motorcycle Guy was hot, but he was just passing through. There was no point telling her about him. He’d be gone before I even learned his name.
Quartz Pass Autobody was only two blocks away from the café, and as soon as I turned the corner, I knew our dry streak was over. Our parking lot wasnotthe same wide open space as last week. Instead, it was full, and every other thought—Fancy Motorcycle Guy included—vanished from my mind.
Relief spiraled through me, but so did urgency. I parked and climbed out of my truck, pausing for a second to survey the literal damage.
Two wrecked sedans sat near the bays, looking like they’d lost a fight with each other at high speed. Three more vehicles waited near the pumps for oil changes. Someone’s minivan was half up on a jack.
Through the office windows, I could already see people packed into the lobby. It was like the universe had heard me complain about slow days and had decided to humble me. Noise hit me full force as I walked inside, tools clanging and engines revving.
A slow smile slid across my lips.Now this is more like it.
I made my way to the front desk immediately, ready to dive in. I was primarily an engine mechanic, so I wouldn’t be involved in any of the body work, but I’d check in with Avery as soon as I’d cleared out some of the customers in the lobby.
Three small children were crying in overlapping frequencies and a woman waited at the desk, looking as haggard and tired as if she was one small incident away from complete collapse. Theman next to her held a toddler who was trying to eat a crayon, seemingly equally close to tears.
My own version of triage completed, I headed directly to them. “Hi there. I’m Raquel. Is that your minivan in Bay Three?”
The man nodded, once again grabbing the crayon from the toddler. “We’re waiting on two new tires to be installed. They blew about thirty miles out of town.”
“Road trip casualties, huh?” I asked sympathetically. “That sucks. I’m sorry that happened. Are you guys hungry?”
The older kids stopped crying and looked at me with hope shimmering in their teary eyes while the parents just sagged in relief. I smiled. “There’s a cafe just two blocks down the street. My friend, Miley, just pulled fresh cherry and peach pies out of the oven. Why don’t you go wait there? Tell her I sent you. I’ll call you the second your van is done and they’re already working on it. It shouldn’t take long.”
“That would be amazing,” the woman rushed out. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I’ll see you soon.” They left and I turned to the next people in line, quickly making my way through payments and those who still needed to be helped before I finally went to work, jogging straight into the oil, noise, and metal.
Before ten, I’d cleared three oil changes, fixed the AC unit in a truck, helped mount and rotate tires on the minivan, and crawled halfway under the postmaster’s Jeep to fix a brake line leak. By noon, sweat clung to the back of my neck and I had grease streaked across my arms, but the entire shop smelled like rubber, oil, and hot metal baking in the desert heat, and I loved it.
The radio blasted classic rock while Avery argued with one of the mechanics. “Duct tape is not a solution.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Luis yelled back at him from under the car.
“For six minutes.”
“That’s six more minutes than you had before!”
I walked past, pointing the toolbox I was carrying at Luis. “If I find duct tape on anything that rotates at high speed, I’m legally allowed to fight you.”
“You’d lose.”
