Page 5 of Mechanic's Charming Bride

Other than that, it was—

“What the…” I see a cloud of smoke in the distance.

Speak of the Devil.

Lowering the radio, I step on the gas and merge over to the lane hugging the shoulder.

A little red sedan is pulled off on the side of the road with white smoke billowing out of the front hood. Cars like that are notorious for crapping out at the worst time, especially if the driver was ten miles into a 400-mile road trip packed full with seven bags of luggage and the family dog.

But that’s not what catches my attention—what does is the woman standing in front of it, jumping up and down with her hands waving in the air.

In a full-on bridal gown.

What the hell?

I blink a few times to try and clear the image from my head because I must be hallucinating. But no, sure enough, she’s still there as I let up on the gas and flick my turn signal to merge onto the shoulder.

She looks relieved when my truck comes to a stop, her veil billowing in the wind and making her look like some kind of angel out of a movie.

AJ has to be pranking me…

Only he would be sick enough to get one of his buddy’s girlfriends to come stage a scene like this just to record me and send it to all of our friends.

He’s kind of a menace like that. Harmless, but ridiculous nonetheless.

Pulling on my ball cap before popping open my door, my boots crunch against the pieces of asphalt and shards of glass still left over from a recent accident. I’m tempted to comment on it being a nice day for a wedding, giving a little bit of a nudge towards this potential prank, but hold back at the last second when I notice that she’s got no passenger in her car.

Why the hell is she out here all alone?

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” She drops her arms and heaves in a big, relieved breath. “I don’t know what happened. I had plenty of gas in the tank and I just got my oil changed a little while ago.”

Walking up to her, I notice that my height practically dwarfs hers.

She’s gesturing towards the propped-open hood of the car, saying something about the last time she’d gotten maintenance done, but I’m hardly hearing her at all.

Instead, my eyes automatically lock onto her face.

She’s gorgeous—like, really gorgeous. With soft features that are accentuated by her light wedding makeup, especially around her almond-shaped eyes. Her blonde hair is pinned back under her veil with a few curls framing her face, and the wedding dress she’s wearing hugs her slender frame perfectly.

Jesus, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all the way out here?

The next town isn’t for another 13 miles.

“—so, I tried airing it out but it just keeps smoking. I would pour some water on it to cool it down but I don’t have any,” she’s saying.

I pull off my ball cap in order to wipe my brow, feeling sweat starting to form there. I’m not even that warm, but this woman’s got me all hot and bothered and she’s barely said five sentences to me.

I glance down at her engine for a second. “Did it shut off or did you pull over and kill the gas?”

Her pretty lips form a pout. “Kind of both?”

Most likely it’s a blown gasket, then. I don’t exactly need to look at her paperwork to know that this car has seen some things, with how old the model is. The thing about beater cars is that they’re great for running into the ground while waiting for the next new model’s price tag to go down enough to finance. But once these things start kicking the bucket, the maintenance to keep them from exploding is ridiculous and not worth it.

Unless there’s some sentimental attachment, but then again, I only ever see that in dudes with too much time on their hands. Not a beautiful lady like her who shouts that she’s from the city with the matching necklace and bracelet that looks close to my monthly salary.

“Looks like it’s probably your coolant leaking from your radiator,” I say. “But I’d have to bring it back to the shop to get a good look at it.”

She’s nodding when I turn back to look at her. “Do you have one of those? A shop, I mean.”

---