Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
SANDRA
"Tighten it just a quarter turn more," Diesel instructs, his voice a warm rumble against my ear as he stands behind me. His chest presses against my back, strong arms caging me as his hands guide mine on the wrench. "Feel that resistance? That's where you want to stop."
I nod, hyperaware of every point where our bodies connect. We've been working on my Mustang's engine for over a week now, and these "lessons" have become increasingly tactile. Not that I'm complaining.
"Like this?" I apply slightly more pressure, feeling the bolt reach its perfect tension point.
"Exactly." His lips brush my ear as he speaks, sending shivers down my spine. "You're a natural."
"I have a good teacher." I turn my head slightly, our faces close enough that I can count his eyelashes. "Very hands-on instructional methods."
His eyes darken, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of brown remains. "Complaints?"
"Not a single one," I whisper, and then his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding.
I spin in his arms, wrench forgotten as my fingers tangle in his hair.
He tastes like coffee and mint, and I can't get enough.
His hands slide down to grip my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto the workbench.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, gasping as he presses against me exactly where I need him.
"Sandra," he groans against my mouth, one hand sliding up to cup my breast through my shirt. "You drive me fucking crazy."
"Good." I arch into his touch, desperate for more. "The feeling is entirely mutual."
His thumb brushes over my nipple, and even through the fabric of my bra and shirt, the sensation makes me moan. He swallows the sound with another deep kiss, his tongue stroking against mine in a rhythm that promises so much more.
The sound of a throat clearing breaks us apart. Marcus stands in the doorway, looking simultaneously amused and embarrassed.
"Sorry to interrupt, boss, but the parts for the Harrison job just arrived. Need your signature."
Diesel curses under his breath, resting his forehead against mine for a moment before stepping back. "Be right there."
Once Marcus retreats, Diesel runs a hand through his hair, which is already mussed from my fingers. "Sorry about that."
"Don't be." I hop down from the workbench, smoothing my shirt. "Probably for the best before things got too heated."
His eyes rake over me, hot and possessive. "Tonight. Dinner at my place. No interruptions."
It's not a question, but I nod anyway, pulse quickening. "What time?"
"Seven. I'll pick you up at the lodge." He steps forward again, stealing one more quick kiss before heading out to deal with the delivery.
I press my fingers to my lips, still tingling from his kiss.
This thing between us has been escalating steadily over the past week—stolen kisses in the garage, heated make-out sessions after dinner, increasingly explicit text messages late at night.
We haven't slept together yet, but it feels inevitable. Imminent.
And God, I want it. Want him. With an intensity that should probably scare me.
I gather my things and head out, waving goodbye to Marcus who gives me a knowing wink.
The walk to The Mountain Lodge is brisk in the December air, Christmas decorations glittering on every storefront.
Crimson Hollow really does the holidays right—garlands and twinkling lights transform the already charming town into something magical.
"Sandra!" Sage calls from across the street, waving from the doorway of Bean & Bloom. "Got a minute?"
I cross over, smiling. Over the past week, Sage has become a friendly face, always ready with coffee and conversation. "Hey, what's up?"
"Just wondering if you're coming to the tree lighting ceremony tomorrow night," she says, ushering me inside the warm café. "Whole town will be there. Seems like something you shouldn't miss if you're thinking of sticking around."
"I hadn't thought about it," I admit. "But sure, sounds fun. Is Diesel going?"
Sage's lips twitch. "Diesel doesn't do public festivities.
But maybe you could change his mind. If not my boyfriend and I will, for sure, keep your company.
" She gives me a pointed look. "Town's talking, you know.
Diesel Torres, actually smiling. Walking hand in hand with a beautiful woman. It's unprecedented."
Heat rises in my cheeks. "We're just... enjoying each other's company."
"Mmm-hmm." Sage clearly isn't buying it. "Well, whatever you're doing, keep it up. I haven't seen him this happy since... actually, I've never seen him this happy."
Her words settle something warm in my chest. "Really?"
"Really." She squeezes my arm. "You're good for him."
The idea that I might be having a positive impact on Diesel's life is surprisingly powerful.
We've only known each other a short time, but I already care about him far more than makes sense.
It's not just physical attraction—though God knows that's overwhelming enough.
It's the way he listens when I talk, really listens.
The quiet confidence with which he moves through the world.
The glimpses of vulnerability I've caught beneath his gruff exterior.
"He's good for me too," I say softly. "Makes me feel... I don't know. Seen, I guess."
Sage's expression softens. "That's rare. Worth holding onto."
I nod, thinking about tonight's dinner invitation. About what it might lead to. About the fact that I'm falling for him faster and harder than I ever expected.
"Anyway," Sage continues, "just wanted to extend the invitation. Seven o'clock tomorrow in the town square. Hot chocolate, carol singing, the works."
"I'll be there," I promise. "Maybe I can convince a certain grumpy mechanic to join me."
Sage laughs. "I'd pay good money to see Diesel Torres singing Christmas carols. Take pictures if it happens."
We chat for a few more minutes before I continue my walk back to the lodge. My mind is full of Diesel—the heat of his kiss, the strength of his hands, the dinner invitation that feels like a significant step forward.
Back in my room, I spend more time than I'd care to admit going through my limited wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear tonight.
I finally settle on a fitted burgundy sweater dress that hugs my curves and black tights.
Casual enough for dinner at his place, but nice enough to show I made an effort.
After a long shower, I blow out my hair, letting it fall in loose curls around my shoulders.
I apply minimal makeup—just mascara and a tinted lip balm—and check the time.
Six forty-five. My stomach flutters with nerves, which is ridiculous.
It's just dinner. With a man I've already spent most of the past week with.
A man I can't stop thinking about. A man whose touch sets my skin on fire. A man I'm falling for even though I know it's probably not the smartest idea.
A knock at my door startles me from my thoughts. It's too early for Diesel. Opening it, I find Ellie from the front desk holding a small package.
"This came for you earlier," she says, handing it over. "Special delivery."
"Thanks, Ellie." I examine the package—a small box wrapped in brown paper with my name written in a familiar strong, slanted handwriting. Diesel's.
Once alone, I tear open the paper to find a small wooden box, beautifully crafted with inlaid patterns along the edges. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, is a delicate silver keychain in the shape of a vintage car—a Mustang, specifically—with a small green stone set where the headlight would be.
A note accompanies it:
For your car when it's ready. The stone is jade. Supposed to bring luck and protection for travelers. Seemed appropriate. — D
My heart swells at the unexpected gift. It's thoughtful, personal—a perfect blend of practical and meaningful. The fact that he took the time to find something so specifically suited to me speaks volumes.
Another knock, firmer this time. Seven o'clock exactly. I tuck the note in my pocket, slip the keychain into my purse, and open the door.
Diesel stands there in dark jeans and a charcoal button-down that stretches across his broad shoulders. His hair is still damp from a shower, and he smells amazing—sandalwood and something distinctly him. My mouth goes dry at the sight.
"Hi," I breathe, suddenly shy.
His eyes move over me slowly, appreciation evident in his gaze. "You look beautiful."
"You clean up pretty well yourself." I step forward, closing the door behind me. "Thank you for the gift. It's perfect."
He looks almost embarrassed by my gratitude. "Saw it in Luna's shop window. Thought of you."
The simple admission touches me more than an elaborate declaration would have. I rise on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I love it."
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering on my cheek. "Ready?"
"Absolutely."
His truck is parked outside, warmed up against the chill December evening. As we drive through town, Christmas lights twinkle in storefronts and homes, casting colorful reflections on the light dusting of snow.
"Sage invited me to the tree lighting ceremony tomorrow," I mention, watching his profile in the glow of the dashboard lights. "Sounds fun."
He snorts. "If you like crowds and off-key caroling."
"I take it you're not a fan?"
"Not particularly." He glances at me. "But if you want to go, I could make an exception."
The offer, clearly outside his comfort zone, warms me from the inside out. "You'd willingly subject yourself to Christmas cheer for me?"
A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth. "Don't sound so surprised. I'm not completely opposed to fun."
"Could have fooled me," I tease. "With all the scowling and grumbling."
He laughs, a rich sound that fills the cab of the truck. "I don't scowl that much."
"You absolutely do. It's your default expression."