Page 7 of Fallen Angel
But he never forgot his roots. He still ran his simple garage and always would.
He walked over to the rack of Calloway jumpsuits along the wall just as Brooke brought him the details on the girl’s car. He yanked off his white t-shirt and handed it to her. Then he stripped down to his boxer briefs and gave her his jeans. “Take care of these for me.”
She brought his shirt up to her nose. “Gladly,” she said as she intently watched him pull on the loose, charcoal jumpsuit with silver lettering.
“Thanks,” he said, ignoring Brooke’s perusal of his body. She was hungry for him, but he made it a point not to sleep with the desk girls. He preferred the company of strangers. The few times he had fooled around with women he knew, they ended up becoming possessive of him, and he had to put an end to the fun. He didn’t do relationships, and he definitely didn’t do commitment.
“You know I love when you wear that,” she purred and circled around him. “I just wish it was tighter.”
“Is the girl here, too?” he asked,
Brooke stiffened at his question. “How did you know it was a girl?”
“Lucky guess,” he said.
“She’s not your type,” Brooke said quickly. “Not much to her. Totally forgettable.”
Ethan had found the girl anything but forgettable.
There had been something in her eyes, something vulnerable—not needy—he had no time for needy women. He sensed her fear was more than just being broken down in the worst possible spot imaginable. Her vulnerability surfaced, but she had tried to mask it as if she was used to keeping everything within her under wraps. And for some reason, the look in her eyes had made him worry, and he made it a point never to worry about anyone other than himself. Hell, he had barely checked over the new bike, worrying about her still out on the road.
“Hey, we’ve got the boss in here today,” Nathan, his head mechanic, called out to the other guys. He clamped his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “How’s it going, man?”
Ethan smiled. “It’s a good day for wrenching.”
He turned his attention to the girl’s wreck. “That’s not good,” he said to Nathan, pointing to the antifreeze dripping out the tailpipe.
Ethan opened the hood.
“Whew, that’s hot,” Nathan said, waving away the steam.
Ethan bent at the waist to examine the engine. “Block’s cracked.”
Nathan raked a hand through his long, blond hair and pressed his lips in a grim line. “That’s too bad. Do you want me to deliver the bad news?”
Brooke crossed to stand alongside Ethan. “I’ll do it,” she said, looking only too eager the break the girl’s heart.
Ethan took the clipboard from her hands. “I’ll talk to her.”
He began skimming over the page. Her name was Angel Sullivan.
Angel.
Pushing open the rubber-coated door, he stepped into the waiting room.
∞∞∞
Angel’s mouth fell open. Her eyes darted to the floor, then the ceiling, anywhere but on the tall, broad-shouldered man who had just entered the room.
It was unmistakably him.
Even though her window had been rain-spattered, she knew those deep-set, piercing blue eyes. His black hair was effortlessly tousled, and his massive shoulders and narrow waist were on exquisite display in his work clothes. She swallowed hard, trying to fight down her anxiety over her car and now her nerves at being in the company of her gorgeous would-be rescuer.
“Hi again,” he said, his voice low and unhurried.
“Hi,” she answered stiffly.
He was staring at her from across the room, his gaze probing. It was not the usual kind of maleI’m undressing you with my eyeslook that always made her instantly wary. His gaze was intense yet somehow still distant, like he was studying her.
