Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
“Google is free, Glen,” Griff says through clenched teeth.
I have to say something before Griff beats this guy to death with the wrench. “Salt mines and evaporated seawater,” I blurt, taking a few steps closer.
Genuine relief and happiness smooth out the harsh edges of Griff’s face when his gaze lands on me. “Molly.”
The older man turns around. His cheeks pull into a feral smile as he takes me in. “What’s that, young lady?”
“Salt,” I say. “The majority comes from salt mines or evaporated seawater.” I’m almost positive that’s true.
“Look at that.” The man points at me. “Now, she’s a ten. Pretty, smart, and polite.”
Just listening to this guy makes me want to run home and rinse my ears with bleach. He has to be around my dad’s age, if not older, and everything about his tone sounds condescending, not complimentary.
“This is my girlfriend.” Griff shoots a hard look at his customer.
“Lucky man,” Glen continues, grinning and sliding his pervy gaze up and down my body. “Bet she treats you right.” His voice oozes sliminess.
Griff finishes with the tire, adjusts something, then sidesteps Glen. “You want to set your stuff down?” He tilts his head toward the bay where my car’s waiting. “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”
“Okay.” I want to kiss him but Glen’s watching as if he expects a free show. Instead of a kiss, I settle for squeezing Griff’s hand. He seems to sense my unease and returns the gesture.
The rest of the bays are empty, the doors closed. My lips curve when I reach my car. It’s come a long way since my birthday. We’ve replaced or fixed most of the interior. The exterior is all one color now—matte black. I pop the trunk, pull out my coveralls, and fling them over my arm.
I hoist my backpack onto the long counter running along the back wall of the garage. From the other end of the garage, a mechanical whir and clinking breaks the silence. Glen shouts something over the noise. I hope that means Griff’s almost done.
While I’m waiting, I step into the coveralls and zip the front. Griff must’ve organized the items we’re using today. I find two shiny side mirrors laid out with a bunch of brackets and tools. Technically, the passenger side wouldn’t have had a side mirror, but Griff said adding one or not was up to me, and I’m more interested in safety than historical accuracy.
An engine revs somewhere behind me. The garage door rattles and hums its way into place.
My heart pounds an excited beat. Griff must be finished and on his way to me.
The familiar scrape and scuff of his boots over the concrete echoes through the garage. I spin around. Weariness seems to slow his steps but warmth hovers in his eyes.
“Hey, baby. Sorry about that.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “That dude’s got the personality of parsley but suffers under the delusion he’s a ghost pepper.”
I snort, then burst out laughing. “You must really dislike him to come up with something so specific.”
He stops in front of me and rests his hands on my hips. “I’ve had time to think on it since he never shuts the fuck up. Always a bad date story. One of these days I’m going to point out that the common denominator is him.” He glances over his shoulder again. “But he’s a friend of Jerry’s…”
“So, you keep your opinion to yourself.”
“Pretty much.”
My gaze slides to Griff’s arms, barely contained by the short sleeves of his button-up shirt with the Jerry’s Garage logo on the left side. I wrap my fingers around his biceps. It’s like squeezing granite. “Maybe he’s intimidated since you’re younger and manlier, so he’s trying to impress you.”
He lifts one eyebrow. “Manlier, huh?”
“You know what I mean.” My cheeks heat, and I pull my hand away.
“Get back here.” He gathers me in his arms, hugging me tight, and buries his face against my neck. “Been looking forward to seeing you all day.”
“Me too.”
“How was work?” He kisses my cheek and loosens his hold on me.
“Long. Boring. I’m very excited to spend the rest of the night with you.” I lower my voice, hoping he’ll take the hint that I mean spend the night.
“So am I.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Would you rather go get dinner instead of working on the car?”
“No, I came to work,” I answer quickly. Griff’s already done so much of the restoration himself.
“All right.”
“Unless you’re tired?”
“Nope. Got my second wind as soon as I saw you.”
We work steadily, finding the fasteners and removing them from the door panel. Griff uses a special tool to pry the panel loose.
“The mirrors don’t have power functions, so that’ll be easier,” Griff murmurs. “Hold this for me.”
He hands over a gasket and oval-shaped bracket, then grabs one of the mirrors.