Prologue
Millie
Why exactly did I wear heels today? And stockings? It’s freaking February and I’m freezing my tush off.
Standing here on the side of the road, I look desperate. Mostly because I am desperate.
I love this car, but for I’m more than tired of it breaking down on me.
Holding my phone up to the sky, I pray to the God of my provider’s 4G cellular network to show me a teeny-tiny bit of grace. All I need is to place one call.
Zero bars.
Gah.
Blowing air out of my cheeks, I try to pull a plan out of my ass. The closest gas station is ten miles away, not to mention I still need to get to FedEx before it closes.
I dig in the tiny trunk of my car for a tool, pop the hood, and hold the wrench in my hand like I have any idea of what I’m doing.
Maybe someone will take pity on me and pull over and help.
I’m overdue for an oil change. And I’m not just talking about my car. It’s been a long time, and maybe those iPhone gods who didn’t answer my call a minute ago, will find a way to deliver a mechanic who knows how to rev my engine.
Chapter 1
Moxon
The powder blue VW Beetle perched on the side of the road has me turning my head as memories wash over me. But it’s the woman in front of it, that has me stopping my big ass truck. She’s bent over the hood, her round ass forcing me to pull over. As I get out of my truck, she’s turned to face me, wrench in hand as if she has a goddamn clue how to use it.
Smoke billows around the sorry excuse for a car and it makes the situation appear more dire than it probably is. Truth be told, this is no life or death situation. I know that because I’m a mechanic and right now there is no fire to put out. In fact, the only thing I wanna do is scoop this little piece of candy up in my arms and take a bite. I’m guessing she has a soft center, with those generous curves and pouty mouth, and I sure as hell intend on finding out.
“How can I help you, little Miss Thing?” I ask, crossing my arms, knowing I look a little worse for wear. I just got off work and considering that I spent my day under a car, changing oil, I know I’m not the clean-cut knight in shining armor she may be thinking she needs.
“The name’s Millie. Not little. Not miss. And certainly not thing.”
I give her a low whistle with a grin on my face.
“Why are you smiling?” she asks, arms crossed, brows furrowed.
She’d look like a wolf on the prowl, ready to bite, if she weren’t wearing such a cute ass dress and sexy black heels. Not to mention the sheer black stockings. They have me close to a hard-on just thinking about the garter belt holding them up.
“I’m smiling because I’m looking at you, doll.”
“Not doll, either. Millie, remember?”
I saunter up to her, taking my goddamn time. The truth is, I’m in no hurry. I’m already where I want to be.
“Millie short for something?”
“Camilla. Why?”
I shrug, reaching for her wrench. “Just curious about what I’m allowed to call you now that all those other names are off the table.”
She frowns. “Are you always this cocky?”
I pull back; giving her a smile that I know will get her all hot and bothered. I have dimples, two of them, and I know they will help smooth her rough edges. “Cocky? Me? Baby, this ain’t cocky. This is confidence.”
“Not baby either. Millie.”
My phone rings and I look at the number. Jenna. We went out last night and it was fun, but so are all one-night stands. Quick and dirty, and then I move on to the next. I don’t answer.
Looking back at the woman in front of me, I smile. “Right, Camilla. So, I have a question for you, what were you planning on doing with this?” I hold up the wrench.
“My dad’s the only one who calls me Camilla. And I was planning on... oh, I don’t know. My phone has no reception and I’m just trying to get to FedEx before it closes.”.
“Well, it’s a signal to mechanics everywhere that you’re desperate.”
Her eyes brighten. “You’re a mechanic?”
“My shirt didn’t give it away?”
“Well, you’re the answer to my prayers.” She steps closer, pointing to the name on my work shirt. “Mr. Moxon, I can tell by all the grease you must have been working hard all day. Thank you for stopping to help.”
“Would you like to help wash it off?”
She barks out a laugh. “Just how full of shit are you?”
“Guess you’ll have to grease my monkey to find out.” My voice is playful and it’s obvious I’m nothing but a flirt. This woman, though, isn’t like other women. She stirs something inside me, something powerful. I want her in a way I have never wanted anyone.