Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
I’m used to car talk.
Not car flirt.
I don’t know anyone other than Nolan who has ever car flirted with me.
I actually don’t know any other gearheads that have been interested in working a wrench outside of the shop.
Not saying that they don’t exist.
Just saying I’ve never met one.
Until now.
“You preppin’ for a project to keep you busy during the winter storm that’s coming next week?” Mark nonchalantly investigates. “They’re saying it’ll be pretty impossible to get around town for at least a couple of days, especially between cities.” His eyes stay focused on mine. “I’ve got a buddy that works for the county and salts roads for this type of shit and even he says between the ice that’s supposed to hit and an understaffed department to deal with the problem that he thinks people won’t be able to travel safely for at least four or five days. Longer on the outskirts.”
“Not too worried.” My dark shirt covered shoulders bounce. “But thanks for the update. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Mark steals another lick of his lips post drinking in my full frame. “Any chance you wanna go grab a beer?” Our eyes lock a second time. “Talk shop outside of this shop?”
My mouth moves to politely decline when a voice I’ll never get enough of grumps, “You’re not gettin’ a Fiat, Rabbit.”
“But that’s what I want.”
“That not what you want. You’re just pretendin’ to want it because I don’t want you to have it.” She poorly hides her grin prompting him to sigh upon their arrival, “Kid, tell her she can’t have a fuckin’ Fiat.”
“You can’t have a Fiat,” leaves me without hesitation.
“Excuse you.”
“Maintenance is shitty, baby. More often than most and more expensive.”
“Baby?” the male who was hitting on me less than quietly questions.
“Bunny,” she sassily announces at the same time she flashes her left hand, “the fiancée.”
“Ah,” Mark does his best not to let his grin fade, “I didn’t realize he was engaged.” He kicks his chin towards Nolan before I can speak. “And you must be his dad?”
“That never gets old,” mirthfully murmurs our girl.
“No,” Nolan huffs, “I’m the one that put that ring on her finger and his.”
“I didn’t see a ring,” informs the guy who should probably be exiting.
On that line, Nolan shifts his glare along with his attention to me. “You not wearin’ your ring?”
“I uh…” giving the back of my neck an uncomfortable scratch is absentmindedly executed, “I took it off for work. Forgot to put it back on.”
“You forgot to put it back on?!” growls one of the only people I’ve ever met that can be both sexy and angry simultaneously.
Fuck, I love when he gets like this.
I just prefer him to be mad at bills.
Or the computer.
Or the microwave.
Not me.
Never me.
“I’m…gonna…go,” Mark poorly points off in the distance behind him. “It was uh…nice to meet you, Kipp.”
The small wave I deliver acts as his exit and Nolan’s excuse to angle himself to block the fleeing gearhead from view. “How could you forget to put it back on?”
“We were already running late, and I didn’t wanna run any later, and all I was thinking about was rushing to get to you before you got a call to be somewhere else, and it just slipped my mind in the process.”
“Why the fuck was it off to begin with, Kid?”
“It’s not ideal when doin’ electrical shit, and somethin’ tells me that’s not what they were singin’ about in that old movie with the ’49 Mercury.”
Bunny shakes her head in obvious amusement. “Can’t remember the name of the movie is Grease but easily remembers the fucking car.”
“He’s a gearhead, Rabbit.” Our fiancé casually balls up the edge of my shirt and yanks me towards them. “Of course that’s what he remembers.”
I do my best not to blush at his proud tone.
Possessive grip.
“And from now on, this gearhead better always remember his fuckin’ ring,” his dark glare holds my crystal one hostage. “We clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” I practically pant.
“Good,” he hums in response, our mouths brushing together. “Now, let’s go get lunch before I turn you two into it instead.”
Chapter 14
Bunny
“Oooooo!!!!” Posie squeals from where she’s sitting beside me at her shop counter prior to angling the magazine in my direction. “What about this dress?!”
I immediately glance over to examine what’s got her giddily squeaking versus gagging.
Which are the only two sounds she seems capable of making while thumbing through wedding magazines.
Magazines that she picked up.
Stacked in front of us.
Demanded we begin immediately browsing despite my meek objection.
The truth is I don’t know that we are having a wedding.
Or that they want a wedding.
Or that I do.
Honestly, a wedding – a real wedding – isn’t something that’s ever crossed my mind as being an actual possibility.
A lot like willingly getting engaged.
And having a healthy relationship rather than being held hostage.