Page 15 of Grumpy Boss in Love

“Are you alright?” he asked as he stepped closer.

“Yup. Fine.” I shrugged. “My car won’t start.” I had yet to look him in the eye because he’d see the evidence of my breakdown.

“I see, and do you know what you’re looking for in there?” he asked.

I tapped my nose. “Sure. I just have to find the thing that’s attached to the… thing.” Looking skyward, I sighed. “No, Mr. Westwood. I don’t know what I’m looking for, okay?”

“That’s what I thought,” he hummed.

Was that a trace of amusement I heard in his tone? I glanced at him. He wasn’t smiling—no surprise—but his blue eyes gleamed with humor. That was new.

“Mind if I take a look?” he asked.

I gave him a once-over in his three-piece suit that I was sure didn’t come cheap.“You?”

What did Richy Rich know about cars? And he was willing to get his hands dirty rather than order his driver to take a look at the mess under my car’s bonnet?

He raised his eyebrows. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

I shook my head and gestured to the car. “Be my guest.”

Elliot took off his jacket and handed it to me. As soon as I clutched it, his signature scent blessed my nostrils. It was a captivating aroma of warm musk and a hint of citrus. I may not like Elliot, but damn, the man always smelled delicious.

“Tell me what happened,” he murmured, rolling up his sleeves.

Resisting the urge to crush his jacket to my nose, I told him the weird sound the car made when I tried to start it.

“Hmm,” he grunted as he started fiddling with the thingamajigs.

I became entranced by the way his biceps bunched beneath his crisp white shirt. And why in God’s name did I find him working on my car so sexy? He seemed to know what he was doing too. His eyebrows were drawn in concentration and a lock of sable hair fell over his left eyebrow.

My gaze zeroed in on his long fingers as they twisted and turned the metal contraptions. Images of that ridiculously hot dream I’d had sitting in his class flitted through my mind. The way those fingers slid up my thighs…Have you ever been spanked, Ruby?God, those words lived rent-free in my head even when he reminded me that I couldn’t stand him.

“Try starting it now,” he said, pulling me back to the present andreality.

Glad to do something other than lust after the man I was supposed to hate, I scurried around to the driver’s side to start the car. This time Rusty sputtered to life and held out for about three seconds before it died.

Elliot nodded as if he knew what was wrong. I walked back around to him. “So, what’s the diagnosis?”

A bunch of words about spark plugs, sensors, alternators, and such spilled from his lips. I understood none of it, but I said, “Right… prognosis?”

Elliot gave my car a once over and snorted. “Hopeless.”

“Hey, don’t insult Rusty to his face.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “You named your car?”

“Yes. Rust Bucket. Rusty for short.”

One side of Elliot’s lips twitched. An almost smile.Holy cow.

“The name is fitting, at least.”

I sucked my teeth and shoved his jacket back into his hand. “Thanks. I guess I’ll call a tow truck or something.”

He nodded.

“I’m going to be late for my shift tonight,” I grumbled. “Fitting, with the luck I’ve had all week.”

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