Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
We’ll figure this out, I think as I glance down at her, filled with bliss. We have to.
7
Luna
I feel like I’m dreaming when Blake and I step out of the restaurant together, my hand in his. Part of me wonders if I am, so I pinch myself in the thigh just to see if I wake up back at home.
When I don’t, I turn away from him and smile to myself so he won’t see it and think I’m crazy or something.
Sure enough, I’m still awake, and Blake is walking along right beside me.
It feels incredible. Every second we spend together is like a wonderful, precious, stolen moment.
A treasure. He’s my treasure. I don’t even know how to put it into words.
“Well, shit,” Blake grumbles, coming to a halt beside me. “Would you look at that?”
“What?” I ask. He raises his right arm and points in front of us, and I instantly see what’s got his face all twisted up: the front right tire of his car has been slashed and has gone completely flat. “Oh…”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Who would do something like that?” I ask.
“Some jerk-off,” he grumbles, releasing my hand and walking over to the car for a closer look. “It’s not like I’m even driving a Ferrari or anything. Yet. I’m in a pre-owned BMW.”
“So what do we do? Call a tow truck?”
Despite how clearly irritated he is, Blake turns to me and smiles. “A tow truck? Who do you think you’re out to dinner with, baby?”
Taken aback for a moment, all I can do is smile as Blake thumbs the remote to pop his trunk and pulls out a bright red toolbox that looks like it’s been around since before he was born. He sets it down on the ground, opens it, and pulls out a long metal bar and hands it to me.
“Hold that for me, would ya?”
“Uh, sure?”
“I’ll get this fixed up before they can make another fresh order of noodles inside.”
He reaches back into the toolbox and pulls out something else metal, smaller and cylindrical, then comes back over to me and clicks it onto the end of the bar I was holding for him.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“That is a socket,” he replies. “A seventeen-millimeter socket. It fits BMW lug nuts. It’s used to get the tire off.”
“Ah…” I nod as he hands it back to me to hold.
Then he reaches back into the trunk, grabs a ring on the floor, and pulls. The entire panel lifts out, revealing a hidden compartment with a tire underneath.
“See, most people just keep a donut with them,” he explains. “A crappy extra tire that you can kinda sorta ride around on until you get your real tire fixed. Me? I have a whole extra fifth wheel and tire for situations just like this.”
“Smart.” I nod, pretending like I understand. “And you know how to change it too?”
Blake gives me a bit of a frown with a smile to go along with it. “What do I do for work, Luna?”
I remember quickly and then realize just how stupid my question was and feel myself starting to blush. “Oh, right…”
Blake grins, pulls out the tire, and tosses it onto the ground. It bounces, but he uses his foot to settle it down, and then rolls it over beside the flat and lays it down beside it. Then, he comes back to the trunk and fishes something else out that I’m proud enough to know is a jack and goes back to the front of the car.
He gets down on his knees and peers underneath like he’s looking for something. Once he’s found it, he slides the jack under and attaches a long metal handle. Then he motions to me. “Bring me that, would you?”
Quickly, I scurry over to him, proud to be his assistant, and hand him the tool I sort of helped him assemble. I watch as he goes to each lug nut and loosens them. His biceps swell as he applies force, causing the veins to swell from beneath the skin. I never even thought that I could find something like this sexy – I never even thought about it – but I as I watch him start jacking up the car, I feel myself getting more and more turned on.
It’s like my own personal pornography, watching him get the car up off the ground, take the lug nuts out and take off the flat, then put the new tire on and retighten the lugs. Thinking I should be his assistant some more, I even do my best to roll the flat back over to the trunk, but I do a terrible job at it, and Blake notices.
“Don’t worry about that,” he calls out over his shoulder. “I’ll get it when I’m finished. I’m almost done.”
Part of me wants to protest – tell him that I can totally handle it myself and that I’m a perfectly capable woman. But I don’t even bother. This is Blake’s realm of expertise, and letting him do his thing is just way hotter.