Glancing over the rig again, Rubi was surprised by the addition of knee hinges. “You’ve done some work on it. ”
“While I was giving you space,” Wes said, his voice wry. “I guess something positive came out of it. ”
A startled type of joy tingled in her chest—he’d taken her advice. She felt strangely…validated. Though hundreds of clients had paid her big bucks just to get her take on a project, the fact that Wes had done it warmed her in a way no paid project ever had.
“So, what do you think of the knee hinges?” she asked.
“They’re good. ” He reached around her and worked one of the hinges open, tilting the apparatus so they could look directly into the space. “This one is the spring design, because that’s what I had on hand. But I added electromagnetic mechanisms to the ones at the hip to try them out. It’s a supersimple unit I rigged from a
car starter. ”
Rubi shook her head, a slow smile growing. “If I said your ingenuity was making me hot, that would be weird, right?”
“Honey, if it makes you hot, and I’m doing it, that’s not weird. ”
He could make her smile so easily.
Inside the hinge, the space was small, maybe three inches in diameter, with two rings of metal layered on top of each other, springs hooked to the discs and something small and mechanical at the center.
She recognized the rings as the pivoting pieces. The springs as the leverage. But pointed at the center mechanical device. “What’s this?”
“A motor. ”
She glanced sideways and found his cheekbone less than an inch from her lips. “I thought you had it in the back. ”
“I did. But I tried out your suggestion and added motors at each hinge to see if that would increase the strength of the pivot. It worked, but not nearly as much as I’d hoped. The physical therapist said the best rig won’t interfere with normal motion, so I’m trying to keep it small. She also said it was important for the rig to keep from causing other physical problems. ”
Damn. She was getting all soft again. He’d tried both her suggestions. “Like what?”
“I guess if the rig makes Wyatt use other parts of his body in abnormal ways, he could develop problems with his hips, upper spine, shoulders, even his neck. So she said the rig should be as small and as close to the human form as possible. The back piece”—he pointed to the area that connected the two thigh pieces and settled at the base of the spine—“houses the battery, which has an AC connector for recharging. Before I tried the smaller motors, it also held one larger motor that controlled the hinges remotely. ”
She stared at the configuration of the apparatus with a kind of wonder. All the metal was machined to ultrasmooth planes. All the screws and connection plates were recessed. Every plastic cover to the hinges fit perfectly. The damn thing looked like it had been made at a production plant and just pulled from its shipping box.
“Who helped you build this?” she asked.
“No one. Why?”
“Because it’s… Shit, Wes, this is way more sophisticated than I thought. This had to be machined, engineered, built…”
“Troy’s dad has a machine shop and lets me use it in off hours, nights, weekends, that kind of thing. I engineered it. Have to get some use out of that expensive education, right? As far as building it, I kept it as simple as possible. A few screws, a weld here and there. I’m a KISS kind of guy. It’s sort of my life philosophy. ”
Wonder…no, awe…flooded her. She turned her head and found his lips right there, less than an inch away. So damn kissable. “Your education? What kind of education?”
“Engineering. ”
She leaned sideways, trying to get a better look at him. “You have a degree in engineering? From where?”
“University of Science and Technology in Missouri. ” He grinned down at her. “Not USC, but I did okay. ”
Her mouth dropped open. “How’d you know I went to USC? And why aren’t you an engineer?”
“Jax told me. And because it’s boring as hell. ”
“Then why’d you major in it?”
He grew thoughtful, his gaze turning back to the rig. “My dad thought I had a talent for it. Could fix everything on the farm, repair any kind of machinery from a bent shovel to a state-of-the-art tractor. And I loved to build things. Took welding, woodshop, and automotive all through high school. ” His voice was soft, contemplative. “I’m realizing I’ve lived a lot of my life to please my parents. ”
“Did it work?” she asked, thinking of how much of her life she’d done the same—and failed every damn time.