Page 68 of Fighting the Forbidden

“Firm and intentional.” She drops her gaze to my dick. “That describes you right now.”

I groan and laugh at the same time. How does she do that? Shy one minute, cracking hard-on jokes the next. “Only for you, Muffin.”

Her face pinches like I’m feeding her a line.

“Come here.” I take her hand and pull her closer. She stumbles and slams into my chest. Her mouth opens, a soft oof passing her lips. “Easy, girl.”

“You make my knees wobbly,” she whispers.

I lean down and press my lips to hers. “Same.”

She snorts. “Nothing about you is wobbly.”

Maybe not, but my heart sure beats a hell of a lot faster whenever she’s around.

“Griff!” my boss, a burly man in his fifties with a bald head, big gut, and salt-and-pepper beard, shouts from the doorway between the garage and the shop.

Molly jumps back like we’ve been caught with our pants off.

“It’s okay.” I curl my hand around hers. “Come say hi to Jerry.”

Despite his gruff demeanor, Jerry’s a friendly guy and a fair boss, and he’s been a good teacher. He smiles when he sees Molly with me. At any other mechanic shop, I’d probably get chewed out for having a friend in the garage, but he beckons us closer.

“Been a while, Miss Molly,” he says. “How’ve you been?”

“Not bad. I just stopped by to say hello to Griff. I hope that’s okay.”

Jerry shifts his eyes my way, mischief in them. “I’ll let it slide today. You wanna work on some cars?”

Molly glances over her shoulder. “I don’t think my skills are quite up to snuff.”

He grins wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m sure Griff will teach you anything you need to know. This kid’s got a gift for restoring classics.”

I duck my head, embarrassed by the praise. “I learned from the best.”

“Yeah, and what Pax didn’t teach you, you picked up quick here.”

“I was talking about you,” I correct, wanting Jerry to understand I appreciate everything he’s done for me. “But yes, I learned a lot from hanging around Pax over at Zips. Still learning more every day.”

Eraser’s uncle collects delinquents like stray dogs. Any friend of his nephew’s is a friend of his. When I was younger, he made sure we were fed, put us to work, and taught us basic skills. And when I needed a legit job, he sent me to his friend Jerry who hired me on Pax’s recommendation. I could probably earn more working in the service department of a dealership or at a bigger garage, but Jerry lets me set my own hours, gives me interesting projects to work on, and hands me a cash bonus twice a year—on Christmas and my birthday. And he gave me work when no one else would take a chance on me—that alone is reason enough to stay. I dread telling him I’ll need eight weeks off to film the reality show almost as much as I’m dreading telling Molly.

“Come.” Jerry turns and waves his hand over his shoulder for us to follow him into the waiting room. It’s small, with beat-up counters that are probably older than I am, chipped tile floors, several tall filing cabinets, and two chairs on either side of a nearly bare table with a coffee pot in the middle to give the appearance of hospitality. Jerry doesn’t like to encourage customers to wait around while we’re fixing their cars.

The phone rings, and Jerry lets out a string of curses. “Hang on a second,” he grumbles.

“I’m probably going to be here late.” I shift Molly toward the glass door leading out of the shop. “You hanging with Hayden tonight?”

“Supposed to do a girls’ night in.”

“Good.” I brush her hair off her cheek. “Thanks for visiting me.”

“Will you come over tomorrow? Remy says he’ll be home early. I thought we could all do dinner and a scary movie together? Like we used to.”

That much time in Remy’s house, with him watching my every move? With Molly so close but untouchable? Sounds like torture. “Absolutely.”

“Good!” She leans up and kisses my cheek just as a horn bleats outside. “Can I text you later?”

“Any time you want.” I catch her hand, pulling her back. “Give me a better kiss goodbye.”

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