Page 41 of Give Me a Shot

“No prob. Here are your keys.”

He handed them to her and went back out to the shop. She thanked Beverly on her way outside. Reaching her car, she realized that the whole thing had been washed. She opened the door and looked at the carpet. It had definitely been vacuumed, and the whole car smelled really, really clean. She checked the dash—not a speck of dust.

They detailed it, too?

“Hi, Jess. Everything okay?” Mo’s deep rumble startled her, and she jumped, almost slamming her head on the doorjamb. She stepped back and stood up slowly.

“Mo, you didn’t have to do this,” she said, looking up at him.

“Just cleaned a little. Always try to.”

“But it smells…” She leaned back over to sniff the inside again. “Did you shampoo the seats or something?”

He shrugged, his cheeks getting a little red.

She closed the door and took another step back.

“Did you figure out what was wrong with it?” she asked.

He nodded.

“No tune-up before sale, I think,” he said.

Jess squinted.

“They told me they had,” she said.

Mo nodded slowly, pulling his lips to one side.

“Should be good now,” he said. “Faulty fuel pump. And the check engine light. It was dead.”

Jess looked at the car again. At least that was why she hadn’t realized that something was wrong.

“Well,” she said. “Thank you.”

He shrugged again and tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his coveralls.

“I appreciate it a lot,” she said. “The whole thing, the inside, too. It’s more than I expected.”

He shrugged again, then scratched at his beard.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“But you have to let me pay you,” she said. “At the very least for your time.”

He shook his head.

“It’s nothing.”

He was doing it again. Turning into a giant little boy right in front of her. His cheeks were completely pink, and he wasn’t really looking at her.

“I can’t fix the Ren Faire, but I can fix this.” He gestured at the car.

Jess was going to melt into a puddle. In spite of reaching for it, her logic was completely outmatched by her reaction to his sweetness. Her friends said that her need to analyze got in her way. And Mo was so refreshing as a human being; Stephanie was right, he was kind of a unicorn. Jess’s heart was going a little too fast, her face felt too warm, and she was clutching her purse strap again.

“You mad?” he asked, sneaking a glance at her.

“No! No, not at all,” she said, as much to reassure him as to get the growing jumble of emotions out somehow. “I…I don’t want you to feel taken advantage of.”

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