Convict (Sin City Salvation 2) - Page 38

But this was something different. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like with Birdie. Just once, I wanted to know how she felt from the inside. Except I knew once wouldn’t be enough. I didn’t think a thousand times would be enough, and that was the issue.

“So, what now?” She cleared her throat, and I wondered if she was thinking about it too. Then I shook my head. I needed to crash that train of thought before I plowed straight into her.

I handed her a pair of safety glasses and some gloves. “Now we get to work.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Birdie asked, leaning over to examine the guts of the truck. There was an emotional element to her voice. A mixture of curiosity and concern. She’d managed to surprise me today, and people didn’t often surprise me.

I’d given her an ass load of busywork—stupid shit at first like sweeping the floor and tidying up the workbench—but she wasn’t satisfied with that. She wanted to know what I was doing, and I finally put her to work. Birdie wasn’t happy unless you threw a challenge her way. Her mind worked fast, and she liked puzzles.

So far, I’d let her help with some PM work and two inspections, but now I had to tackle a mechanical issue. Normally, I didn’t like anyone else in my space while I was working. My guys had an understanding that unless I asked for their help, they stayed in their lane, and I stayed in mine. But Birdie was intuitive about my needs. She didn’t touch something unless I told her to, and she asked questions with an eagerness that pleased me. Her hands were smaller than mine, which was a benefit I’d already exploited several times over, and she was a fast learner. Oil and grease smudged her cheeks, and her pretty blond hair was a mess too, but she’d never looked more tempting than she did right then.

Christ.

“I’m not sure what the problem is yet,” I mumbled, trying to focus on the task at hand. “It’s a process of tests and elimination now. We’re going to have to throw her up on the lift.”

“Will you show me what to do?” she asked.

I considered refusing her because it was a big job, but then I wondered how many times Birdie had ever been excited about something like this in her life. She’d told me herself she didn’t really know what she wanted to do. She needed a purpose, and if this was something she liked, I owed it to her to let curiosity lead her. As long as she was safe.

Always safe.

“After lunch.” I blinked away the dark thoughts lingering just beneath the surface. “Let’s eat.”

She checked the clock on the wall, noting that it was noon exactly. I guessed it wouldn’t take her long to pick up on my inflexibility when it came to my schedule. In the office, I unpacked what I’d made us for the day. Turkey sandwiches with vegetables and an apple on the side. Birdie’s nose scrunched up when I handed them to her.

“Ugggg,” she groaned. “More vegetables. Wheat everything. Do you always eat this healthy?”

I pointed at the sink, gesturing for her to wash up beside me. “You only get one body. Might as well take care of it.”

Her elbow bumped against mine as we washed up together, but I felt her eyes on my face, and I knew that wasn’t the end of the conversation. “Yeah, but you smoke. Seems kind of contradictory, doesn’t it?”

“Everyone has their vices.” I shrugged. “What’s worse, weed or sugar?”

Birdie considered it as she toweled off her hands. “But isn’t that a problem with your job? I mean, don’t the two clash?”

“It’s only a problem if I fuck up,” I told her. “And I never fuck up. I don’t smoke at work either.”

She looked up at me, eyes bright and blue. I couldn’t look away, and it was pure instinct that drove me to wipe a grease smudge off her cheek with my thumb. She was shorter than me, but it felt like a good fit. It felt like I wanted to tug her against me and do shit I wasn’t supposed to think about.

“You’ve turned out to be quite the little grease monkey,” I murmured, my face tilting toward hers. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I just knew that if I didn’t taste her lips again, I was going to hate myself for it.

Birdie’s eyes fluttered shut, and her chin tilted up toward me, offering the access I wished she’d just deny. My fingers trailed over her jaw and down her throat, feeling the drumbeat of her pulse beneath the soft skin.

“Fuck it.” My lips crashed down onto hers, and I wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her against me. She made a soft noise as my dick poked against her belly, and I wanted to play that sound on repeat all day long.

Tags: A. Zavarelli Sin City Salvation Romance
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