outside into the oppressive heat carrying a frosted mug of lemonade.
Laughter bubbled up in her throat at the sight that greeted her eyes. The
only part of Chris that was visible were his legs. The rest of him was
under her car. As much as she didn't want to, Melanie couldn't help but
admire those muscular, tanned male legs.
Walking up to
him, she tapped his Reebok with her flip flop. "I brought you something to
He scooted from
beneath the car, moving sideways like a sand crab. When his head was
clear, he stood up and wiped his dirty hands with an equally dirty rag. In
spite of being sweaty, rumpled, and sporting a smudge of something black
on his jaw he looked good enough lick. The fact that his
not-so-white-anymore T-shirt was molded to his broad chest and impressive
abs definitely upped the sexy quotient. Uh huh, like he needed to look
He took the
proffered lemonade and drained it in a series of nonstop gulps that drew
Melanie's attention to his strong, tanned throat. When he finished, he
touched the cold mug to his forehead. "Thanks. I needed that."
He shook his
head. "Not now, thanks."
was having a strange effect on her stomach. Stepping away from him, she
asked, "How's it going?"
"Good. I just
finished changing the oil. I gave you a complete tune-up and your battery
is hooked up to my recharger. All that's left is changing the spark
plugs." He indicated the opened hood with a jerk of his head. "Wanna
"Sure, but I
have to warn you: I know diddly squat about cars."
"That's okay. I
know diddly squat about cooking."
him to the front of the car then watched him open a package of what she
assumed were spark plugs. She wasn't sure what fascinated her more-- the
ease with which he selected foreign-looking items from his toolbox, or the
way his muscles bunched and flexed while he worked. Whatever it was, she
was soon thoroughly engrossed, and surprisingly curious.
She leaned over
the engine with him. “How do you know so much about cars?”
“My dad and
grandfather taught me. Grandpa was a mechanic.”
“What's that little do-flickit?"
filter," he said, screwing a spark plug into place.
"How about that
"I've heard of
that. What's it do?"
liquid fuel and controls its mixing with air for combustion in the
"Uh-huh. And the
English translation of that is… ?"
"It makes the
car go vroooomm."
She wiped a bead
of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Whew. It sure is
hot out here."
Chris snuck a
glance at her and nodded in mental agreement. Hot as hell. And every time
he looked at her, in those cutoffs that showcased her longs, slim legs and
curvy butt-- which was currently hoisted in the air as she leaned over--
it got a little hotter.
Her skin was the
color of warm honey, and his fingers itched to touch its soft smoothness.
Her reddish-brown hair was a riotous cap of untamed curls that begged to
be messed with. Her eyes reminded him of sweet, gooey, yummy chocolate,
and her mouth… whoa! Those plump pink lips had carnal thoughts racing
through his mind, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on what he
bounced back and forth, pointing at this and that, asking what everything
was. He answered all her questions, falling more and more in lust with
each passing minute. His mind tried to convince his hormones that this was
not the woman they were looking for-- this woman was more than a one-nighter
and represented a serious threat to his bachelor freedom-- but his
hormones were having none of it.
This is the one
his hormones informed him. This one right here,
who doesn't know an oilfiller from a brake pad. The one who smells like
fresh-baked brownies and stares at you with those big chocolatey-brown
eyes. Now do something about it before we get nasty.
She pointed to
something else, asking what it was. When he turned his head to explain the
intricacies of the wiper-fluid dispenser, they bumped noses. Chris froze
and stared into her startled eyes.
She was so
close. And she smelled so good. And looked so good. God, so good.
Before she could
back away, and before he could change his mind, he did what he'd wanted to
do since almost the first moment he saw her. He angled his head and
brushed his mouth over hers.
He’d expected to
feel a tingle, but he wasn’t prepared for the electric sizzle that
crackled through him. All thoughts of spark plugs, do-flickits, and
thingamabobs drained from his head. He reached for her, pulling them both
upright. Their heads smacked into the raised hood at the same time.
yelped, leaning back and rubbing the top of her head. "Wow. I feel dizzy.
I bet I have a concussion."
one arm around her waist, pulling her close, and ran gentle fingers over
the small lump forming on her head. "Me, too."
She gazed up at
him. "You think you have a concussion?"
"No. I feel
dizzy. And it has nothing to do with hitting my head."
getting to you?"
His gaze settled
on her mouth. "You could say that."
widened. "Oh, my. You're going to kiss me again."
"I'm not sure.
The first one almost knocked me unconscious."
He lowered his
head. "Yeah," he breathed against her mouth. "I know exactly what you