“So what’s wrong then?”
I shake my head.
Her lips twitch, frustration slipping into her tone. “You know this would go a lot quicker if this were a two-way conversation.”
I feel heat creep up my neck. She doesn’t sound truly annoyed, though. There’s something else there—amusement, maybe. Curiosity.
A tiny dimple forms at the corner of her mouth, and I get stuck on it. On the way her eyebrow lifts, the way she crosses her arms.
“Hello,” she calls. “Anyone there?”
Right. She asked me something.
Great timing to zone out. She probably thinks I’m even more of an idiot now.
“It’s an electrical problem,” I say. The words come out stiff, but at least they come out. “I’ll fix it.”
“Okay, great. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to know exactly what you’re fixing. The last mechanic I had charged me an arm and a leg for what was supposed to be a simple oil change, and he kept adding new things I had to pay for. By the time I figured it out, I was out like four thousand bucks.”
I nod, even though I’ve never used a mechanic. I’ve been fixing cars since I was fourteen. Still, I get it. I get why she’d be wary. If I ever met the guy who did that to her…
It wouldn’t end well for him.
“Free of charge,” I say, trying to ease her concern, but her eyes widen and her frown deepens.
“Really?”
I nod.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” she says. “No offense, but I don’t like owing favors to strangers. That’s a lesson I learned a long time ago.”
There’s just enough bitterness in her tone to hook my attention. I want to know who put that look in her eyes, who took advantage of her, who made her this guarded. I want to take that feeling of vulnerability away from her, even if it means hurting someone in the process.
An insane thought. Way too much to feel for someone I met yesterday. I know that. But logic isn’t running things right now.
“Anyway,” she says before I can find a way to ask. “I’m fully capable of paying for it, and if something genuinely needs fixing, I trust you’ll fix it. I just want to know what was wrong so I can keep track going forward.”
I nod, then manage, “I’ll tell you when I’m done.” I still don’t plan on charging her, but I’ll deal with that later.
“Okay then. Please take care of my baby. She needs a lot of love and gentle care.”
“I can show you love and gentle care.”
The thought slides in uninvited, though thankfully I manage not to say it out loud.
“Jesus. Get a grip, Talon.”
I expect her to leave, but she doesn’t. She lingers, observing me under the hood as I work.
I feel her watching me—my skin prickling, my ears tuned to every shift of her feet on the gravel. The weight of her gaze does something to me, something sharp and electric. It feels… intimate. Like I’m putting on a show just for her.
“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” she eventually asks.
I glance back. She’s still watching me, cheeks slightly flushed, though it’s not warm enough to explain it.
I shake my head to indicate I haven’t.
“I’ll get you some,” she says, and then she’s gone before I can answer. I watch her walk away, back to the main building.