4. Main Engine Start #2
And oh sweet Neptune, if I’d deduced him as being a chronically angry guy from all our earlier interactions, this new evidence completely destroys that once logical conclusion.
Because Flynn’s smile outdoes both his cars combined in the creation of downtown, happy dance tingles.
I’m so focused on his smile, I don’t really notice he’s moved closer until his fingers brush along the side of my jaw.
“Touché,” he says, his voice low. Not quite a whisper, but low enough the timbre resonates in my chest, creating a warmth inside that not even the Texas heat could mimic.
His smile turns softer, his touch lingering a moment, before stepping back and walking toward his car.
“Put your phone away, darling. I’m a mechanic.
You’d seriously wound my already bruised ego if you called Triple A. ”
He moves around the front and opens the passenger side door. I follow him while taking a moment to ponder the fact that one, he called me darling, and I don’t mind. At all. And two, smiley Flynn is just as disconcerting to my brain as angry Flynn. More so, really.
He sprawls across the seats, then turns, getting his upper body under the steering wheel on the other side, while masterfully avoiding the gear shift. As he stretches out on his back, his shirt creeps up. His abs are golden, tan from the sun.
I think I’d willingly give up my Buzz Aldrin signed NASA T-shirt to see Flynn without his.
A small line of dark hair travels down behind a silver belt buckle into his jeans. A sudden urge to trace that trail with my fingers rears its head.
I clear my throat. “So…what are you doing?”
“Hot wiring the car.”
I glance around the parking lot and over to the guard station. “Hotwire?” I whisper. “Isn’t that illegal?”
He laughs again. “Only if it isn’t your car, darling.”
“Oh.” I’m glad he’s tucked under the dash and unable to see my face flood with embarrassment. I may be queen of the nerds, but it would seem my street smarts need work. I should add that as a goal in my Operation Social Life.
“How do you hotwire a car?” Whenever feeling lost, focus on the academic, I always say.
He shifts up, doing a small crunch that contracts the cords of muscle on his stomach. “Wanna learn?”
My brain once again stutters before rallying. “Really? You’d teach me?”
“Sure thing. It’s the least I can do.” The sheepish look on his face makes him appear younger, less intimidating.
“That’d be so cool, thanks!” And once again, I’m a little late in realizing that jumping up and down while clapping isn’t the most mature of actions.
But it does earn me another smile.
“Holy Mercury,” I whisper.
Flynn
I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face at Jackie’s obvious excitement. Or the fact that her little jump set certain body parts of hers moving. So even though I have to cut the wires on my 1969 Boss 429 Mustang, I just can’t bring myself to get mad.
Especially as it seems I’m forgiven for being such a dick to her today. And last night.
I swear I’d been planning on being a normal, nice guy when I picked her up from work.
I’d even spent the drive over here thinking of charming apologies and ways to prove to both Jackie and Rose I’m not a complete asshole.
But then I saw her. Blond ponytail swaying, walking alone, at night, her sneaker-clad feet bouncing like a kid off to kindergarten, not a care in the world.
Something about her not taking her safety seriously had me grinding my jaw and snapping.
Again.
Jackie opens the driver side door and kneels down on the pavement. How different Jackie is from all the women I’ve known before really hits me. She works, for one. And at NASA. Plus, she doesn’t even flinch at getting her pants dirty.
“What do we do first?” Jackie licks her lips and leans forward.
Jackie on her knees with an eager expression on her face blanks my mind from the task at hand. I take a calming breath before I begin.
“Okay,” I start, focusing on the car, “because this car is a ‘69, it’s pretty cake to hot wire. Nothing’s computerized.
” I remove the panel under the steering column while I talk.
“Turning the key really just connects three things: the battery, the ignition and the motor. Hot wiring just means we have to do all that manually.” I separate out the wires we need.
“Red is always battery. The others can vary depending on the make and model of your car. Though more often than not, on cars of this age, the ignition wire is yellow.”
I reach in my pocket and fish for my pen knife, holding back a hiss when my hand brushes up against my dick.
The dick that has been in a perpetual state of semi-hardness since I brushed my lips against hers earlier.
The dick that only got harder since Jackie gestured toward my car, glasses sliding down her nose, knocking my keys down the grate. Basically, my dick needs to calm down.
“You need to cut and strip down a half inch on all three wires,” I narrate, trying to get my big brain to outthink my little brain.
Which isn’t easy. There’s some kind of deliciousness emanating from her hair. Probably from whatever shampoo she uses. Then, because it’s summer in Texas, there’s the light scent of sweat on her skin. Clean sweat. Gets me thinking of sex sweat. My dick gets harder.
Not helping.
She’s leaning as close as she can without touching me, but that doesn’t stop tendrils of her hair that have escaped her pony tail from tickling my skin. So soft .
“What next?”
I refocus on what I’m doing. “The battery and ignition wires get twisted together.” I motion to her by jerking my head up. “Turn the lights on, see if it’s a good connection.”
Jackie reaches up with her left hand, bringing her neck closer to my face.
All I’d have to do is arch back and maybe stretch a bit and I could kiss it.
I’ve never been a neck person before. Because honestly, who’s a neck person?
There are boob men and leg men and ass men.
I’ve always liked to think of myself as an equal opportunist when it comes to a woman’s body—I like it all.
But for some reason, the sight of Jackie’s long slender neck does things to me.
“They’re on!”
“Huh?”
She looks down at me. “The lights. They came on.”
“Oh yeah. Right.” I shift in the seat, willing my dick to behave.
“So the next step is to touch the starter wire to the battery and ignition bundle. But you have to be careful. The starter wire is live. You don’t want it to touch anything metal or it could short.
And since this is a manual transmission, you need to push in the clutch. ”
“This is the clutch, right?” She rests her long, delicate fingers on the far left pedal.
“You don’t know how to drive stick?”
“No.” She frowns as she says it. I have a feeling Jackie Darling Lee doesn’t like not knowing things. She sets her jaw. “But I’m going to learn. That seems like something one should know how to do.”
I smile at the serious expression clouding her sweet face. “I’ll teach you how to drive stick.”
Her face brightens. “Really? You’d do that?”
Her excitement both pleases me, ‘cause it means she wouldn’t mind spending more time with me, and makes me feel like an ass, since she’s so surprised by my offer. Well, in for a penny… “Yeah, I’d love to get your hands on my stick.”
She turns bright red.
I can’t help but chuckle. As pretty as she is, I can tell she isn’t used to flirting.
I shouldn’t fluster her, especially after being such a jerk.
But God damn, when she blushes it spreads down that pretty neck of hers and all I want to do is follow its trail with my tongue.
Why I’m having such a strong reaction to this woman is a bit of mystery.
Even when I thought she was one of Rose’s directionless friends, I’d still clocked the way she looked and moved.
Giving both of us a breather, I get back to work. “Now, I need to touch the starter wire to the battery and ignition bundle. With the wires exposed and ready to go, I can get in the driver’s seat now. I’ve got to push in the clutch and rev the engine so it doesn’t stall out.”
“Okay.”
I curl up and get out of the car. We both circle around to opposite sides and get in.
“Is there a procedural order? Does one wire have to be cut and exposed before the other? Do you have to push the clutch in first and then touch the wires, or is the clutch like the accelerator and you just have to rev it?”
I feel my lips twist in a smile. She’s so fucking cute. “Procedural order?”
She blushes again and looks down at her feet. “Never mind.”
Fuck. Somehow, I’ve embarrassed her again. “Hey?” She doesn’t say anything so I reach over and tuck two fingers under her chin, lifting her face to mine. Her blush intensifies but I can tell it’s not from embarrassment when her eyes dart to my mouth, her tongue licking her bottom lip.
I’m about to lean in, drawn to this girl who’s busted into my life so unexpectedly, when a light flashing into the car breaks the moment.
A security guard is standing at my lowered driver side window. One of his hands is on his flashlight, momentarily blinding me, the other on the gun by his side. He does not look happy. And in Texas, an unhappy man with his hand on a gun does not mean good things.
First, I raise my hands for him to see I’m unarmed. When that’s done, I’m about to speak, but Jackie beats me to it.
“Hey, Clay!” The officer dips down, jerking the flashlight to Jackie, who raises a hand to her eyes. “It’s me, Jackie.”
“Oh. Hey, Dr. Lee.” He lowers the light and takes his other hand off his gun. “You okay?” His eyes go from Jackie to me.
“I’m good, Clay. This is my friend Flynn. He’s giving me a ride home.” She reaches over and pushes my arms down.
Clay chuckles. “Car trouble again, Dr. Lee? I’ve told you to get rid of that old thing.”
Jackie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” She cuts her eyes to me. “You’re not the only one who thinks that, I’m sure.”
Clay tosses a wave in our direction and walks off.
“ Doctor Lee?” I ask when Clay is out of earshot.
Another blush. “Uh, yeah,” she mumbles.
“That’s pretty badass.”
“It is?”
I don’t get why she finds that surprising.
“Yeah, it is. I did the basic four years.” I can’t remember a damn thing I learned at Baylor.
I’d been too busy coasting on my family’s name with drinking, women and spending the opposite of hard-earned money.
“But afterwards, I went to trade school. Cars were more my thing than books.”
“That’s great.” Jackie is nodding her head as she talks. “I think trade schools are vastly underrated.”
I can’t tell if she’s fucking with me or not. She looks sincere, but this is a PhD I’m talking to. I really would’ve thought I’d get a condescending look when I mentioned trade school. I sure as shit did from my friends back home.
I nod, then reach back under the dash, while pushing in the clutch.
“Wait!” Jackie says, putting her hand on my arm, ducking her head down, trying to see what I’m doing. “What’s next?”
“Sorry, forgot.” I sit back so she can see my left foot on the clutch.
“The clutch should be pressed all the way down before you touch the wires.” Then I reach back under the dash, the steering wheel pressing into my shoulders and chest to finagle the bundled set and the starter wire together.
The engine ignites, making Jackie’s expression light up.
I touch the gas a few times, causing the engine to rev and vibrate the whole car.
“Then you rev the engine afterwards so it doesn’t stall. ”
The first time I revved the engine, her lips parted slightly. The second time, her eyes close and she looks like she’s on the verge of coming. Without thinking, I touch the gas pedal again.
She moans so softly I almost don’t hear it. But that red-hot blush spreading across her face and neck tells me I’m not imagining it.
I love vintage cars. The sight, smell and feel of them. My blood might as well be motor oil. It’s why I got off my ranch horse, said good-bye to the suit jobs and into the car restoration business in the first place. There have been no regrets since I made that decision.
But now, with this shy, standoffish, hard-to-pin-down girl close to ecstasy from the V-8 engine I personally rebuilt? I’m grateful all over again.
Something tells me Jackie might like more than just a lesson on how to drive stick.