BONUS CHAPTER #2
Sloan heads toward the back area, her boots echoing against the concrete floor.
“There aren’t any cars we need to work on today, right?” I call after her.
The shop’s still new, and word needs to get around some more before people start bringing their cars in regularly.
“Nope, not today,” she replies, her voice muffled. “But there’s always something to do.”
That’s true enough. But today is the kind of work that lets us take our time. It’s an opportunity for Sloan to teach me everything—every little trick and skill that she’s picked up over the years.
Who would’ve thought I’d end up as a mechanic?
Not me, that’s for sure, but I love it.
She comes back into view, her hair now braided and out of her face. And just like that, I’m lost in her. It doesn’t matter what she’s wearing, though my favorite is when she’s wearing nothing at all.
For a second, I let my mind wander… her skin bare under my touch, the curve of her body arching closer. The way she looks at me then, all of her laid open for me, makes it impossible to breathe.
The vague echo of my name has my focus sharpening, and I somehow manage to catch the energy drink headed my way.
Sloan only smiles with a small shake of her head, cracking open her drink.
I do the same, and for a moment, we stand in the silence of the shop before I walk over and start up the radio, the music bouncing off the walls and adding some life to the space.
“How about we work on something a little more advanced on the BMW today?” she asks, her eyes bright with excitement.
I smile at the thought. The guys and I had bought her that BMW as a gift for the opening—a wrecked version of the same one North has.
Tally scowled at us, asking who the fuck buys their girlfriend a totally damaged car.
But Sloan practically lost it, so thrilled to have the chance to work on it, to bring it back to life and make it her own.
And now, she’s using it as my training ground, showing me the ropes.
“You really think I’m ready?” I tease, taking another sip of my drink. “I don’t wanna mess it up.”
She rolls her eyes, stepping closer until she can poke me in the chest. “You’re ready, Casper. Besides, I’ll be right here. We’re doing this together, remember?”
The way she says it, with such confidence in me, like she means more than just the car, as if she means this life, it makes something swell in my chest. I lean down, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “All right then, Boss. Let’s do this.”
We head over to the BMW on the lift, and Sloan grabs a wrench, handing it to me. “Okay, today, we’re tackling the suspension.”
I arch an eyebrow, accepting the wrench. “Suspension, huh? Sounds… suspenseful.”
She chuckles softly, then steps under the car. “Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
I move to stand beside her, watching as she explains each part.
She makes everything sound almost simple, even though I know it’s anything but.
Sloan points out the components, explaining what each one does, her fingers brushing against metal as she talks.
I nod along, trying to absorb every word, every detail.
“See this here?” She points to a particular bolt, her face close to mine as she turns to make sure I’m following. “This one’s a bit tricky. If it’s too tight, you’ll mess up the alignment, but too loose, and it won’t do its job. It’s all about finding that sweet spot.”
I smirk, glancing at her. “Oh, I know all about that sweet spot.”
She rolls her eyes, her lips twitching into a smile. “Shut up and focus, Casper.”
I chuckle, but I do as she says, adjusting my grip on the wrench as she guides me.
She leans closer, her shoulder brushing against mine as she steadies the part I’m working on. “You’re doing good,” she encourages softly, her voice almost drowned out by the music playing in the background.
“Yeah?” I glance at her, catching the warmth in her eyes.
“Yeah.” She nods, reaching out and tapping my nose, smearing some grease on the tip of it.
“Oh no, you did not.” I fake-growl, pulling her in and wiping my nose against her cheek, and she gasps in mock outrage.
“Oh, you’re so asking for it now!” She shoves my shoulder, her eyes glinting with mischief as she reaches out with her dirty finger again.
I grab her wrists, trying to dodge her finger as she twists in my grip. We’re both laughing as we start to play fight, her trying to get me back while I do my best to avoid her.
The opening notes of “Sweet Dreams” by Eurythmics come on over the radio, and I freeze.
“What?” Sloan asks, still trying to catch her breath.
I grin and let go of her wrists. “We still need to end that dance session, remember?”
She blinks, her expression going from confusion to understanding, and then she smiles, shaking her head slightly. “Good thing North isn’t here today.”
“Come on,” I say, sliding my arms around her waist and pulling her in. “Dance with me, Boo!”
“Why?” she asks, amusement evident in her voice, throwing me back to the shipyard, to when I was so in love with a girl I thought I could never have.
“Because I asked you to.” I smile while I sway with her, feeling her arms come around my neck, her body fitting perfectly against mine.
“Are you an oven?” I ask, and her eyes narrow as they search mine. I know she’s waiting for me to say something ridiculous, and she’s not wrong. “Because you’re so hot, you make my dough rise.”
She laughs softly over the music, the lyrics floating around us, but I slow our movement even more, turning it into something softer, a slow dance despite the tempo.
“Always gotta be dramatic, don’t you?” she murmurs, her voice teasing but her eyes warm.
“Only when it’s you,” I reply as I press my forehead to hers.
I close my eyes, feeling her warmth, feeling everything that she is, and while our bodies sway gently, my heart thunders in my chest. Lowering my head, I capture her lips with mine, the kiss deep and unhurried.
She sighs into it, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of my neck, and I think about how this—right here, dancing in her garage with a grease-streaked nose and neck to eighties music—this is everything.
Slowly, I pull away just enough to look at her, my lips brushing against hers as I speak. “Sweet dreams are made of this, Boo.”
“Who am I to disagree?” she whispers back, her lips curving into a smile before she gives me a quick peck.
When the song ends, I take her by the hand, guiding her to the customer’s couch. Sitting down, I pull her onto my lap so she straddles my waist, her hands resting on my shoulders as she smiles down at me. I can’t help but smile, my fingers reaching up to trace her cheekbone, which is greasy now.
“Come here,” I murmur, cupping the back of her neck and bringing her down to me. Our lips meet again, this time with more urgency. Her hands slide up to frame my face, her thumbs brushing over my jawline as the kiss deepens, and I lose myself in her—completely, utterly.
She shifts in my lap, and I groan softly, my hands tightening on her waist as I pull her closer. The taste of her, the feel of her, the warmth of her body pressing against mine—it’s overwhelming, intoxicating.
She breaks the kiss, her forehead resting against mine as we catch our breath. Her eyes are half-lidded, her lips swollen and curved into a soft smile. “We’re supposed to be working, you know.”
“True,” I grin, my thumb brushing over her lower lip. “What will we do when the boss catches us?”
“You’re such a dork,” she teases, but her smile widens as she leans in, kissing me again, slow and tender.
My hands slip under the hem of her shirt, my fingers grazing the warm skin of her back. Sloan shivers at the contact, her breath hitching as I start to lift the fabric, inch by inch. She pulls back just enough to let me tug it over her head.
Her shirt falls to the floor, and my hands move to her sides, feeling the smooth skin beneath my fingertips as I trail my hands up over her ribs. Her eyes never leave mine as she reaches for the hem of my shirt, mirroring my movements.
The moment my shirt is free, her lips on mine, her body warm and soft against me, skin on skin, and everything inside me tingles. I kiss her deeper, more urgently, my hands sliding up her back, feeling the curve of her spine, the way she arches into me like she needs this as badly as I do.
My fingers find the clasp of her bra, and I hesitate, pulling back to meet her gaze.
She nods, her smile soft, and I unhook it, letting the straps fall from her shoulders.
Sloan shrugs it off, tossing it aside, and I take her in—truly look at her, drinking in every detail.
She’s perfect, every fucking inch of her.
“Saylor,” she whispers, her voice like a plea, and it’s enough to snap me out of my daze. I meet her eyes, and her smile urges me on as she leans in to kiss me again, her fingers threading into my hair, pulling me closer.
My hands are already moving, slipping onto her hips, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her jeans, and she shivers, her breath hitching against my lips.
I can’t hold back. I kiss her neck, her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, my hands working with a kind of desperation to open her jeans, to push them down her hips.
Every second without her is too long, and I need her—now.
She shifts, helping me, and soon they’re on the floor, and she’s in nothing but her panties, back to straddling my lap. My hands roam her body, feeling every curve, every line as if I need to memorize her all over again. She’s everything—my everything.
Her forehead comes to rest against mine again as we catch our breath, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest, and I can feel her heartbeat slow, syncing with mine.
“I love you,” she whispers, her voice so soft I almost don’t hear it, and it makes my chest tighten with emotion.