off the starter. Electrical problems are pretty common on older models. Whoever rebuilt the engine wouldn’t have seen this as a problem unless the clip was off before he started stripping the engine. Besides, it’s most likely a recent problem. Have you had problems starting him before?”
“A few days ago.” I shrugged. “She flat-lined the first turn but seemed fine after that.”
He nodded. “Recent, then.”
“Why couldn’t my breakdown service fix it roadside?” Cars really weren’t my thing, although if they came with Jack....
“The clip he could have; it’s a five-minute job if you’re just patching. But the water in the distributer—” Jack tapped a tune on the steering wheel. “Wiping it out with a rag wouldn’t have been good enough, you needed....” He let that trail off in a way that just begged a—
“What?” I said, watching him. He offered nothing back. “Jack?”
“A hairdryer.”
I snorted laughter, hoping it sounded a lot sexier than it felt. “A hairdryer?” My elbow was back on the window now, the back of my hand trying to hide my laughter and failing miserably. “That a mechanic’s top wish-list item?”
Jack was laughing, and it sounded really good. “Hey, whatever gets the job done.”
“It yours?”
“What?”
“The hairdryer.”
“Get fucked.” He seemed a lot more relaxed now. “Do I look like I ponce about in front of a mirror drying my hair?”
I shouldn’t have wondered just how many times his mirror had seen Jack naked at that point. “Nowt wrong with taking care of yourself.”
“Oh, hell.” Jack controlled his laughter, practically sobered up on the spot. “You don’t?”
“Me?” I nodded. “Straighteners and everything. Hairspray helps tame some of the wildness, but, y’know—”
He caught on quickly. “Taking the piss, huh?”
“Some people just ask for it,” I said, calming myself down and resting back against the window. “So you’re almost the stereotypical mechanic, huh?”
Jack shrugged. “Well, if you mean I fix cars and get dirty, then, yeah, kind of comes with the job description.”
“That just happens to suit you.”
“What,” said Jack lightly, “you mean I don’t look the flower arranging type? I take offence to that, so would my tutor. He said the red roses I picked really accentuated my eyes, seeing as I’d been on the piss the night before and was, well, doing the whole red-eyed, hung-over, stereotypical alcoholic.”
I huffed. “Taking the piss, huh?”
“Me?” He flashed a smile, and I rewarded it with an eye-roll. “I teach,” he added.
I did this whole
Seriously?
shit with how many times I looked between Jack and the road. “Mechanics?”
“Martial arts.”
“Seriously?” I widened my eyes. No wonder he had such a fit bloody body. “With kids and everything?”
“Helps,” he said and shook his head. “Ya know, that I’ve got people to teach when I’m actually teaching.”
“But.” I left that for a second. “Kids?” With his gruffness?
“Mostly adults, about six under the age of eighteen, youngest being seven.”
“Yeah—but kids?”
“Can’t get over that last bit, huh?” said Jack with a smile. “They’re not part of my diet. I can interact with them.”
“Yeah—but kids.”
“Okay, enough with the kids shit now.”
I chuckled, and something lowered Jack’s eyes, sent that startling grey a few darker shades of lust. I wish I knew what it was. “You just don’t seem the sort to have the patience,” I said over to him.
“Because I’m a stereotypical grouch of a mechanic that only loves cars?”
“Because you first looked at me like you couldn’t decide when to rip my head off: before, during, or after you’d fucked me senseless.”
Jack choked a little. “Sorry?”
“Sexy as hell,” I said, giving him the time to recover. “I just can’t see you chilling with kids long enough without wanting to put them in the deep freeze to shut them
“A few days ago.” I shrugged. “She flat-lined the first turn but seemed fine after that.”
He nodded. “Recent, then.”
“Why couldn’t my breakdown service fix it roadside?” Cars really weren’t my thing, although if they came with Jack....
“The clip he could have; it’s a five-minute job if you’re just patching. But the water in the distributer—” Jack tapped a tune on the steering wheel. “Wiping it out with a rag wouldn’t have been good enough, you needed....” He let that trail off in a way that just begged a—
“What?” I said, watching him. He offered nothing back. “Jack?”
“A hairdryer.”
I snorted laughter, hoping it sounded a lot sexier than it felt. “A hairdryer?” My elbow was back on the window now, the back of my hand trying to hide my laughter and failing miserably. “That a mechanic’s top wish-list item?”
Jack was laughing, and it sounded really good. “Hey, whatever gets the job done.”
“It yours?”
“What?”
“The hairdryer.”
“Get fucked.” He seemed a lot more relaxed now. “Do I look like I ponce about in front of a mirror drying my hair?”
I shouldn’t have wondered just how many times his mirror had seen Jack naked at that point. “Nowt wrong with taking care of yourself.”
“Oh, hell.” Jack controlled his laughter, practically sobered up on the spot. “You don’t?”
“Me?” I nodded. “Straighteners and everything. Hairspray helps tame some of the wildness, but, y’know—”
He caught on quickly. “Taking the piss, huh?”
“Some people just ask for it,” I said, calming myself down and resting back against the window. “So you’re almost the stereotypical mechanic, huh?”
Jack shrugged. “Well, if you mean I fix cars and get dirty, then, yeah, kind of comes with the job description.”
“That just happens to suit you.”
“What,” said Jack lightly, “you mean I don’t look the flower arranging type? I take offence to that, so would my tutor. He said the red roses I picked really accentuated my eyes, seeing as I’d been on the piss the night before and was, well, doing the whole red-eyed, hung-over, stereotypical alcoholic.”
I huffed. “Taking the piss, huh?”
“Me?” He flashed a smile, and I rewarded it with an eye-roll. “I teach,” he added.
I did this whole
Seriously?
shit with how many times I looked between Jack and the road. “Mechanics?”
“Martial arts.”
“Seriously?” I widened my eyes. No wonder he had such a fit bloody body. “With kids and everything?”
“Helps,” he said and shook his head. “Ya know, that I’ve got people to teach when I’m actually teaching.”
“But.” I left that for a second. “Kids?” With his gruffness?
“Mostly adults, about six under the age of eighteen, youngest being seven.”
“Yeah—but kids?”
“Can’t get over that last bit, huh?” said Jack with a smile. “They’re not part of my diet. I can interact with them.”
“Yeah—but kids.”
“Okay, enough with the kids shit now.”
I chuckled, and something lowered Jack’s eyes, sent that startling grey a few darker shades of lust. I wish I knew what it was. “You just don’t seem the sort to have the patience,” I said over to him.
“Because I’m a stereotypical grouch of a mechanic that only loves cars?”
“Because you first looked at me like you couldn’t decide when to rip my head off: before, during, or after you’d fucked me senseless.”
Jack choked a little. “Sorry?”
“Sexy as hell,” I said, giving him the time to recover. “I just can’t see you chilling with kids long enough without wanting to put them in the deep freeze to shut them
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