Page 9 of Moonlit Kisses

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.”

“No problem. Let me show you to my office. You can make yourself a coffee, go to the bathroom, or whatever while I work on your car.”

I brush past the young woman to head inside, assuming she’ll follow, but she steps back to her car. I stop in my tracks to wait for her. She digs down into her car, giving me a sensational view of her ass.Shit!Don’t stare at her ass. She’s a fucking kid. When she straightens up, she’s holding a backpack. As the girl steps closer to me, she looks down at her bright pink running shoes, then back up at me. “Uh, I have a lot of important stuff in my car. It’ll be safe? Right?”

“Absolutely. I’m just gonna move it from there,” I point to her car, “to there.” I gesture inside.

She nods. “Okay. I just needed to be sure.”

I guide her into my office. “There’s the coffee machine. Do you need me to show you how to use it?” I gesture toward the poor excuse for a kitchenette, which takes up a small space in the corner.

She wanders over. Turning back to me, she smiles, showing off deep dimples. I’m a fucking sucker for dimples. “Nope. This is the same one my mom and stepdad used to have at home.”

Hmmm. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the regular use of past tense. I don’t think she’s driven all the way from the other side of the country for a vacation. I wonder if she’s a runaway? “Okay. There’s cream and juice in the fridge.” I nod toward a door on the other side. “The bathroom’s through there. It has a shower and toilet. Though it’s pretty small.”

Her eyes light up. “Sir, uh …” She cuts off her words and shakes her head, but I can tell that whatever she was about to say was important to her.

“What were you gonna say?” I prod.

“Uh, would I be able to have … I mean, uh, would you mind if I had a quick shower? I’ve been on the road for days with only a quick wipe down in gas station restrooms.” She’s looking at me with pleading eyes and all I can picture is her wiping down those gorgeous long legs of hers.

How can I say ‘no’?

“Sure thing. Make yourself at home. I’ll need about an hour to work on your car, then you can be on your way.” Realizing neither of us has introduced ourselves, I wipe my hand on the back of my overalls before holding it out. “Sorry. My name’s Max.”

The young woman chuckles, her cheeks flushing pink. “Sorry. Hi, Max.” She slides her small smooth hand into mine. “I’m Molly.”

Molly. I like that name. It suits her.

I nod my head as I squeeze lightly. “Nice to meet you, Molly. Make yourself comfortable.” I gesture over my shoulder. “I’ll get started on your car.” Glancing down at the only available surface for her to sit and enjoy a coffee, I gather my strewn paperwork into a messy pile and situate it on top of my laptop to give her space.

I give Molly an embarrassed smile, then I turn to leave.

* * *

An hour later, I step into my office to find Molly on the phone while doing something on my laptop, a cute set of glasses perched on her button nose. “Yes, Mr. Barnes. I can see that your next service is due in two weeks. Would you like me to book you in?”

I glance at my desk, covered in neat piles of paper. I don’t think it’s ever been this organized.

“Sure thing, Mr. Barnes. That’s all booked in for you. Max’ll see you at eight a.m. on the twenty-eighth. Goodbye.” She’s smiling, creating deep dimples in both cheeks, as she hangs up the phone.

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