I turn and see Kate standing by the stairs about twenty feet away from me. Red hair stacked up in a ball on top of her head. Curly tendrils slipping out all around her face. She’s wearing a T-shirt that’s tied in a knot off to the side, revealing a strip of flesh right above her Daisy Dukes. She looks dirty and sweaty and exhausted.
She looks perfect.
With a soft smile, I grab the bottom of my white tank top that’s covered in black from tire rubber and swipe at the sweat running down my forehead. “What are you doing here?” I ask, licking my lips and trying to stop my blood pressure from spiraling out of control.
She moves something metal back and forth in her hand that I can’t see from this far away as she says, “Did you pay off Sam’s uncle for me to write inside the comfort center?”
My face falls, my brows furrowing when I realize she must have spoken to Sam. “Not in money but in labor, so yeah, I guess so.” I look around at the sea of tires surrounding me in answer.
She nods and chews on her lower lip as she walks closer to me. “Do you know what this is?”
I frown down at the hunk of metal in her hands. “That looks like a carburetor.”
“Do you know for what kind of vehicle?” she asks, her blue eyes pinning mine in place.
I shake my head and shrug. “I can’t tell from here.”
She pauses and sets it down on a cart next to the clipboard of tire orders that I check off as I stack. “It’s for a 1965 Ford F100.”
My jaw falls open.
“That’s the one you have at home, right?” she asks, blinking her wide eyes at me.
I nod.
She smiles.
“Where did you get it?” I husk, my voice raw with shock and disbelief.
“It’s kind of a long, crazy story.” I see her throat swallow slowly. “But I’m hoping it has a great ending.”
My stunned expression morphs into wonder. “What kind of ending?” I ask, wiping my hands off on my jeans as she stops ten feet in front of me now. I can see the brilliant blue of her eyes and the light sheen of sweat all over her body.
She’s stunning.
She exhales heavily through her nose, a flush crawling up her cheeks as she replies, “The kind where you let me apologize for lying to you.” She hits me with a serious look and says, “I’m Kate Smith from Longmont, Colorado, whose ex technically still lived with her until two weeks ago when she moved in with her best friend, Lynsey. I’m not some brave erotic romance author who’s into kink and cool with casual and uses a mechanic for ‘book research.’ I’m a girl who’s been falling for a guy who works at Tire Depot and would really like to go home with him and just take a frickin’ shower.”
She exhales heavily, clearly out of breath from her long-winded confession.
I’m out of breath too.
Because suddenly, with one intense look, I’m transported back to that night when there was a storm overhead and I crashed into her like I was the thunder to her lightning. Everything around us disappeared.
Now in a sea of tires, all I see is her.
In a flash, I’m striding toward Kate, and she’s striding toward me. We connect, and within a single breath, she’s up in my arms, both of us covered in sweat and dirt, my left arm circling her waist, my right hand splayed wide on her back, holding her flush to me as her legs wrap and tighten around my hips.
She feels good and light in my arms. Warm and soft. The heat of a woman fucking made for me. At first, I press my forehead to hers and breathe in the smell of her. Amongst all the shop smells, nothing beats this girl’s scent. I press my lips to her damp forehead, then her temple, then the curve of her earlobe. I trail my lips along her jaw and sample the corner of her mouth with mine.
She lets out a soft moan, which parts her lips to me, and I take that as an invitation to feast as I connect our lips straight on. My demanding tongue thrusts in to meet her eager one, our flesh dancing against each other with desire. With apology. With two weeks’ worth of anxiety, stress, and confusion.
She sifts her fingers through my short hair, humming her appreciation into my mouth and squeezing me into her center so tight, I pulse inside my jeans with need.
I pull back to look at her. “Were you serious about that shower?”
Her mouth tips up with a breathy laugh. “God, yes.”
“Good, because I’m disgusting, and all I want to do is bury myself inside you right now.”
She laughs and releases her legs around my hips, sliding down to the ground. I grab her hand with mine, hauling her behind me as I approach the carburetor she placed on the cart.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I state incredulously, picking up the rare part in my hand. “This had to cost a fortune.”
She lifts her shoulders. “I needed you to know that everything we experienced together wasn’t fiction. The important stuff mattered to me. A lot.”
My eyes soften with emotion as I take in the sincerity on her face. I should have never doubted her. I should have never put her in the same category as anyone else. Kate Smith is in a league all her own.
I crook my finger under her chin and brush her lips with mine. It’s not a sexy reclaiming like I want the minute we get to my place. It’s a tender thank you.
“You’re amazing,” I murmur against her lips.
She smiles softly. “So are you.”
I slide my hand into hers as we make our way down the stairs to my shop station where I grab my helmet and the keys to my bike.
“Where’s your car?” I ask, as we step out into the back alley where my bike is parked.
“It’s staying here overnight. It needs a service, and I got a flat.”
My eyes pin her with a curious look.
She brushes me off. “I’ll tell you about it later. Now, I really want to climb on the back of your bike.”
With a smirk, I pass my helmet to her and help her aboard. With a thunderous start, my bike roars to life, and I pull out of the parking lot, out of Boulder, and head to the little place I call home.
Our lips are locked on each other’s all the way up my garage steps, all the way through my living room, my kitchen, down the hall, and into my bedroom. We break our kiss briefly to ditch our shirts. We resume said kissing as my hands reach behind Kate’s back and unclasp her bra. In one swift motion, her breasts are bare, and I’m crushing her to my chest. Lifting her feet off the ground so I can reconnect our lips and feel her bare skin against mine.
She fumbles with the button on my jeans, so I set her down to help rid her of her shorts and panties. Turning to get the showerheads started, I kiss her for a minute longer, then pull away to guide her into the shower with me. Placing her under her own spray and myself under mine, I stare down at her as the hot water pours over her face and down her body.
She tips her head back, her red hair slicking to her head. She drops her chin and her blue eyes are bright and rapidly blinking against the water as she looks at me looking at her.
I step into her spray and run my hands along her collarbone and shoulders. “I fucking missed you, Kate.” My hands slide lower to run over the swells of her bare breasts, cupping them to test the weight of them. “It’s weird to call you Kate.”
Her breath quickens as I pinch her pink nipples between my thumb and index finger. “You can call me Mercedes if you want,” she says with a soft moan.