“I didn't mess with it, miss. It's called a brake line flush. That's what I did. I also topped up the fluids.”
“Yes, but I never asked for anyone to touch anything, except to do the oil and filter change. Do you people always take a customer's vehicle and do whatever the heck you want to it? Because that's just not right.”
All that attitude in one woman. I should be mad as hell about the way she keeps testing my patience and being so defiant, but the thing is, it's sexy as fuck. Especially from this angle, seeing her creamy legs go on for miles, slightly parted as she lies on her back, and the rise of her breasts that would fill my hands just perfectly.
Jesus. I'd like nothing more than to punish her for the way she talks to me. I'm itching to drag her and the creeper seat out from under the Camaro, place her between my legs, grab a handful of her honey blonde hair, and sink down deep inside of her.
“Are you even listening to me?” she barks, pulling me back to the matter at hand.
“Calm down, miss,” I tell her.
“Calm? Hell, you messed with my ride, and you want me to be calm?”
I'm already sure that no matter how this conversation gets resolved, I have to have her. It's just a question of time. Today, tomorrow, next week, doesn't make a difference. I want this saucy vixen.
“The extra maintenance is at no cost. If there were gonna be an additional charge, someone would've called you first to get your okay before we went ahead. There's nothing to worry about.”
I get up from my spot on the floor and grab the strap of one of the other creeper seats, pulling it back toward her car.
“What else did you do to my baby?” she asks in her irritated state.
“Hang on. I'll show you since you're hell bent on ignoring my boss's rules around here.”
“Then we're even since you people took it upon yourselves to do things to my baby that I. Didn't. Ask. For.”
Lining up the creeper seat, I get on the ground and roll under the car from one side of the vehicle. From my spot near her, with our heads almost touching, I point out every part I worked on, how things were taken apart, and the brand of fluids used to either top up or empty and replace each line. By the time I've explained myself for keeping her car in tip top shape along with the reminder that I pretty much donated my time for the pure joy of doing so, her face softens a bit.
She tilts her head to one side from her spot and gazes over at me.
“Not bad. All right, you're off the hook. Looks like you know what you're doing.” She gives me a playful smile. “Thanks for not screwing anything up. Saves me from having to raise hell with the Better Business Bureau, or whatever the equivalent is for mechanics.”
A small smile rises up my face. “I sure appreciate that, miss.” I take an extra few seconds to admire the incredible view down the opening of her blouse from this angle. What a sight, those perky nipples making an imprint on the soft fabric almost as much as the image is tattooed onto my brain.
“Interesting,” she half-whispers thoughtfully out of the blue.
“Sorry?”
“The way you smiled just now... it doesn't quite reach your eyes. Actually, you have the eyes of a man… of someone who has no hope for the future. Who did you lose?”
I flinch. My reaction is to the idea that this woman thinks she can take one look at me and believe she knows me. Even if it's all true. Or maybe it's the softness in her own eyes, almost pitying me when she has no idea who I am.
“You barely know my name, lady. This is how I always smile.”
The woman keeps staring. I can't handle that intense gaze a second longer, so I stretch out my feet and pull myself out from under the car. She does the same, emerging at the back of the car, eyes still boring a hole through me as I go back to the counter where I set down her keys.
“By the way, I'm Amber. Amber Roberts. You got a name?” she asks from a few steps behind me, hot on my trail now.
“Diesel.”
“Diesel, huh? That's...fitting. Is that your real name?”
Now that my guard is up, I ignore the question and pick up the set of keys. “I'll take the car off the lift. Meet me over at the reception desk in the customer waiting room. I'll get your bill together, Miss Roberts.”