Page 7 of Moonlit Kisses

Walking back to my car, I climb in and start the engine, which sounds deafening in the quiet of the morning. I move in behind her, meaning she’ll have to come find me when she wakes. Cutting the engine, I lock my car, then check on the sleeping beauty. She must be out of it, because she hasn’t stirred an inch.

Shrugging, I disarm the alarm to my workshop and slide open the heavy steel double door. Stepping inside, I turn on the overhead lights and unlock the front door on my way to my compact office to start the coffee machine. It was the one luxury I afforded myself when I was setting this place up. Why skimp on coffee if it’s the thing that’ll get me through my workday?

Toby’s bringing his car in for a service today, but I need to finish working on the Lincoln before nine, so I drink my coffee as I turn on my laptop and then head into the workshop to get started. Lost in fitting the new radiator into place, I hit my head on the hood at the feminine voice calling out from the doorway. Glancing across, I find the young woman who was sleeping in her car out back. Stepping away from the car, I grab a nearby rag to wipe my hands as I walk across to her.

“Uh, hello. Is that your car blocking me in?” Her voice is sure, full of confidence, even though she must know that she shouldn’t park where she is.

I was right. She is tall. I keep enough space between us to be polite. “Is that your Jetta?” I tip my head toward her car, parked in my space. I know full well it’s hers because I watched her sleep like a creeper.

She swallows and turns her head in the direction I gestured as if to check I’m asking about her car, then back to me. “Yeah.”

“You know that’s a private parking space on private property reserved for the business owner? Right?” I ask, keeping my voice even. I cross my arms and her eyes drop, widening slightly as she watches the action.

“Uh, sorry. I’ve,” she waves her arm out toward her car, “been driving solid for days, only stopping for gas and to nap. It was too late when I arrived last night to … uh … get a room somewhere. I pulled in here because it looked like a safe place to stop and get some sleep. I’m sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you. As soon as you move your car, I’ll be outta your hair.” She takes a step back from me.

“Where’d you come from?” Her accent suggests she’s not from anywhere close by, because I can’t quite place it.

She tucks a lock of silky-looking hair behind her ear.Gray. Her eyes are gray. “Portland, Maine.”

“What?” The word comes out harsher than I mean it to. “You,” I point to her, “drove all that way on your own, in that fucking car?” I wave my arm out toward her car. Is she fucking crazy?

Her posture visibly changes.

Straightening.

Stiffening.

With her spine straight as a board, her shoulders drawn back tight pushing out her round tits—stop noticing her tits, you perv!—she snaps out, sharp as a whip, “Yeah, I did.” Her gray eyes are blazing hot, her cheeks flushing. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

No, she’s not. She’s too fucking young. Stop looking at her.

I stride over to her car—even with her long legs, she almost has to run to keep up with me—and reach inside to release the hood. Stepping around to the front of the car, I set the hood on the prop and begin checking the connections, fluid levels, and hoses.

“What are you doing?” She follows every move I make with her eyes.

One of my pet peeves is people not treating their car right and expecting it to keep on running. “You’ve barely got any water in your radiator. You could have blown up your engine.”

She pushes in beside me, the top of her head coming to my chin, eyes wide. “Really? Thank goodness I made it then.” She looks around. “Do you have a hose? I’ll fill it up.”

I’m shaking my head in disbelief before I can temper my response. “You can’t fill a radiator with tap water. It contains minerals that’ll damage your radiator over time. It has to be distilled water.” I snap. “Did you even check your levels before you left Portland?”

I glance up from the engine bay to her face. Her bottom lip is wobbling, and her eyes are scarily glassy. I recognize a woman trying to hold back her tears. I have two sisters. Both of which I would do anything to ensure tears never fell because of something I said or did. But it appears I didn’t offer the same courtesy to this stranger. She’s wrapped her arms around her willowy body as if to protect herself from my wrath.

I sigh heavily with regret.

I had no right to be snappy with this young girl. She didn’t deserve my Saturday morning grumpy ass. But I can’t handle the mistreatment of cars. People seem to think they don’t require care and maintenance.

She gives me a watery smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to do that. My stepdad used to take care of my car for me. I honestly didn’t know. I definitely don’t need my car to blow up or to put myself at risk. But after the last few weeks I’ve had, it wouldn’t surprise me.” The defeat in her voice is heavy.

My eyes scan her face, noting the black smudges beneath her gorgeous eyes. She looks exhausted and her posture screams defeat. Her clothes are all creased and the slump to her shoulders is unmistakable. She needs a break. I can give her that. Pulling the rag out of my back pocket, I wipe my hands again. They’re perpetually stained from grease and oil. I don’t know why I bother anymore.

I soften my voice, regretting my heavy handedness. “Come through to my office. I have a coffee machine. You can put your feet up while I give your car a quick check over and sort out your radiator. Okay?”

She studies me closely, her eyes cataloguing every inch of my face. Wariness oozes from every single pore. “Uh, I don’t have any money to pay you to do that. If you could just move your car, I’ll be on my way and out of your hair.” She glances up at my hair and I feel self-conscious about the few grays that have made a permanent home at the temples. The girl gestures to my car and raises her eyebrows at me.

A tentative smile touches my lips. I don’t blame her for being wary. I was an asshole. “Did I say I was going to charge you?” I hold out my hand. “Give me your keys so I can move your car into the workshop.” I get her reluctance, but I want to help her. My gut tells me she needs a helping hand. I wriggle my fingers in a ‘give me’ gesture and add, “Please.”

She looks back at her car, deliberating my offer as she fidgets with her bracelet. I can tell the moment she relents as she huffs out a sigh and her shoulders drop from her ears. As she turns toward the driver’s side, the sunlight catches a delicate ring I hadn’t noticed in her nose. She retrieves her keys and drops them into the palm of my hand before looking up at me. Her stormy eyes, soft and appreciative. “Thank you.”

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