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“No, I don’t. But other people will think I’m some kind of predator—”
“Aren’t you?” He waggled his brows. “Didn’t you want to maul me naked the moment you walked in my shop and saw me massacring the Beatles?”
She fought not to smile and lost. “I suppose.”
“Huh. For a first attempt at honesty, I’ll take it.”
“Hey, I’ve always been honest. Mostly.” She let out a whoop as he swept her up into his arms. “What are you doing?”
He gave her a cheeky grin. “Following my instincts. Gotta prevent that shriveling malady as long as we can.”
Chapter Seven
Brad carried Sara into his shop, intent on depositing her on the counter and indulging every prurient urge he’d ever felt in her direction. On the way across the concrete, his gaze darted from the grimy fingerprints on the phone to the messy pile of customer invoices to the ragged pair of work gloves hanging from a hook on the wall.
Then he looked at Sara, draped like a present in his arms. Long, silky brown hair clinging to glossy lips, eyes bright with excitement. Prim and proper blouse, skirt and heels wreaking hell on his already full-throttle sex drive.
“Is this part of your usual routine when a woman’s car needs service, or do I warrant VIP treatment?” Though her tone was teasing, he didn’t laugh.
That’s what she thought he was all about. Quick fucks in car bays and hit-and-run emotions that didn’t last long enough for him to get serious. And if she believed that was all he felt for her, he’d have to prove her wrong.
His dick might drive the bus more often than not, but at least his addled brain caught up eventually. And this was not happening.
She curled her fingers in the hair on the nape of his neck. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He set her down and straightened her blouse, tucking it back into the hem of her skirt.
Her frown reached her eyes. “You’re supposed to be pulling that out, not putting it back in.”
“You know that kind of talk always gets me hot, Doctor.”
“What’s with calling me Doctor all the time now? Before you got me in the sack it was Sara Smile.”
Her faintly petulant tone made him grin as he moved away to sort the invoices on the counter. His organizational skills had been lacking more than usual lately, due in no small part to the distraction offered by the gorgeous woman at his side. “I thought you didn’t like that nickname. And I’m pretty sure calling you my fuck goddess probably isn’t respectful enough.”
She laughed and moved closer so that her soft breast brushed his arm. “So why aren’t you disrespecting me on this counter yet?” She leaned up and her hair tickled his neck. “Or are you all growl and no grind?”
To avoid being swayed by temptation of the sultry kind, he put the counter between them and reached for his clipboard to start writing up her work order. He’d just taken a quick look under the hood of her car, but he was reasonably sure they were looking at a depleted battery, along with a clogged fuel filter. Maybe a few other contributing factors as well. “How good are you at doing maintenance?”
She tilted toward him, her minty breath wafting over his face. “I have a nice selection of toys. Is that what you mean?”
His lips twitched. “I’m referring to your car, Sara.”
Her heavy sigh made his smile widen. “I get regular oil changes.”
“What about the rest? Tire rotations, new filters, routine stuff. Who normally services your vehicle?”
“Uh, Swifty Brake and Tire.”
He groaned and rubbed his chest. “You live with a mechanic, and you’ve been taking your car to a cheap chain place? You wound me.” At her silence, he looked up and caught her fiddling with her hair. “What’d I say now?”
“We aren’t living together permanently.”
“No.” It took everything he had to keep his tone easy. “But we are right now. And the bedroom’s yours as long as you want it.”
Her cheeks reddened with the beginnings of a flush. She didn’t blush so much as glow, her skin warming until the light dusting of freckles on her cheeks stood out in sharp relief. “I never had roommates before. Not even in college. I lived at home and then I had an off-campus studio. I never even lived with a boyfriend.”
“How come?”
