Page 6 of Mechanic's Charming Bride

Her eyes are eager as they lock with mine, causing my body to feel a rush of adrenaline.

Jesus, it’s like I’m a teenager and this is the first time I’ve ever talked to a pretty girl before.

“Yeah, it’s about half an hour that way,” I nod in the direction. “You want me to call a cab for you? Signal’s kind of busted out here, but I’ve got a radio in my truck.”

I can’t tell if she’s heard me wrong or is nervous that I’m going to leave her stranded on the side of the road, because instead of saying ‘yes’ or something to that effect, she tells me, “Yeah, yeah. That sounds good. We can go to your shop.”

“I can get this hooked up to my flatbed no problem.”

We walk back to my truck, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement behind me. “So, how long do you think it’ll take to fix?”

“Well, like I said…” Pulling open my door, I grab the clipboard I always keep tucked between the center console and my passenger seat. “I’d have to look at the whole thing back at the shop, but if it’s just the coolant then I can get it done probably by tomorrow. If it’s something else that’s going on, then it may take a few days.”

She looks absolutely crestfallen at the news. “Wait, a few days? Is there any way you can just patch it or something?”

Man, I feel bad. Maybe she was on her way to some destination wedding to surprise her fiancé or something, and this is completely crashing her plans.

“Not if you want your engine to explode.” I say, feeling bad. “But again, I’d have to look at everything else to make sure that’s the only thing you’ve got going on. You could have more than just the coolant problem.”

Like that timing belt for starters.

“Shit,” she mutters.

She brings her fingers up to her lips and taps the bottom one in a silent beat, a gesture that I rip my eyes away from watching. She stares at the forest surrounding the highway.

After what feels like forever, I ask, “You want me to give you a ride to your, uh, venue?”

Isn’t that what they’re called? The last ‘wedding’ that I went to was a buddy of mine’s who got married to his longtime sweetheart in their backyard. We had a kegger afterwards that resulted in most of us having the worst hangover of our lives the next morning.

Her eyes snap to me again. “Oh, no. It’s fine. Actually, can I hitch a ride to the shop?”

Her laugh reminds me of chimes in the wind. Pretty and dainty sounding.

”Sure.” I hand the clipboard to her. “You mind filling out the top of that while I get your car strapped up? Pen’s under the clip.”

She blinks, taking it. “Oh, yeah sure. Hey, thanks for this. I can’t believe you were just passing by. How lucky am I, right?”

Lucky indeed, I think as I head to the back of the flatbed to grab my straps.

But who’s the really lucky one?

Chapter Four

Sam

Goddamn, he is hot.

Who knew ditching my wedding would end up with me hitching a ride into town with a hot mechanic? The man that climbed out of that tow truck had been the beefiest, handsomely rugged man that I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

“You all strapped in?” He asks as soon as he’s behind the wheel.

Stupidly, I smile at him while the buzz in my veins makes my head a little fuzzy.

The man’s got a thick, dark colored beard trimmed tightly to his face, giving his jaw a sharp angle to it. He’s a dark tan that grows a little bit lighter where his t-shirt sleeve rides up.

He’s got the fullest lashes I’ve ever seen on a guy that frame his amber colored eyes perfectly. The hands that grip the steering wheel are slightly scarred around the knuckles and look like they could probably crush a watermelon easily.

I hope he can’t tell I’m literally drooling over him right now.

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