“Right,” she says. “Truck.”
I clear my throat and nod. She drops her eyes and heads for the passenger seat as I move to the back of the truck. I watch her walk over to the truck and climb up, her jeans showing off every glorious curve as she moves.
Averting my eyes from that glorious ass, I try to get my head back on the job. It’s not like it’s hard to tow a car, but I don’t want to make a stupid mistake because I’m fixated on the little redhead in my truck.
I lower the bed and tilt it down, hooking the chains to the frame before tightening them up, all the while being careful not to burn myself on the hot metal or let the condensation drip on me. Her radiator is completely shot, there’s a burning rubber smell that I suspect is coming from the engine belt, and I’m willing to bet the engine overheated. Lilah might have offered to pay for repairs, but I suspect a whole new car would cost less.
I get the little Honda winched up onto the bed and strapped down, double-checking the safety points before climbing back up in the cab with Parker. The cool air feels amazing, but even better is the sight of her strawberry hair ruffling in the breeze from the vent. She eyes me warily, and I do my best not to stare at her. I’m not trying to make her uncomfortable, she’s just really fucking pretty.
The drive back to the shop is quick, and she doesn’t say much, just looks out the window, her arms folded across her stomach. When we get to the shop, I send her inside while I unload the car into our lot. I’d like to have her stay outside with me, but it’s hot and I’m trying not to be a jerk.
When I walk back into the shop, she’s not in the waiting area where I’m expecting her to be. I grab two bottles of water out of the cooler and go looking for her.