It’s past sundown when I get the call—a breakdown on a deserted road. I was about to close up shop, but I figure one more job can’t hurt. When I pull up, headlights illuminate a sleek car on the shoulder. A woman stands next to it, arms crossed, looking frustrated. Beside her, some guy’s pacing around, kicking the tires like it’ll magically fix something.

I step out of the truck, and her eyes land on me immediately. She’s striking—dark hair catching the moonlight, lips slightly parted as she watches me approach. I give her a nod, ignoring the guy who’s already trying to explain some nonsense. “Pop the hood,” I say, my voice calm and steady.

She flicks a glance at her boyfriend, but he’s useless. I catch the way she lingers as I lean over the engine, hands working the tools with practiced ease. I spot the issue fast—loose alternator belt. “Nothing major,” I say, wiping grease from my fingers. “Could’ve been avoided with the right care.”

Her eyes stay locked on mine. “You’re good at this,” she murmurs, voice low, stepping closer.

I smirk. “I’m good with my hands,” I reply, letting the words hang between us. Her boyfriend’s off in his own world, complaining about the car, but she’s not paying him any attention now. She’s too busy watching me, the heat between us unmistakable.

As I finish tightening the belt, I glance up, meeting her gaze head-on. "Next time you need a hand, call me directly. I’ll make sure it gets taken care of… properly."

Her lips curve into a slow smile. “I might just take you up on that.”