“But that little convenience store was the only thing I’ve seen for a couple miles.”
I didn’t want to admit she was right. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was finding my way out of this, but now that she was so adamant I was wrong, I was determined to prove otherwise. I needed to feel like I could so something right today, even something as trivial as finding our way out of the boonies. “We’ll find it.”
“I don’t think you could find it even if you had a map with a big X marking the spot,” she muttered.
I raised my brow. “I assure you, I can find the spot.”
“Would you even know what to do with it if you found it?”
I turned to her and said, “I can give you a demonstration.”
A pink flush filled her cheeks, and she smoothed her finger along the earrings that climbed up her lobe.
Just as she was about to answer, a loud pop came from the engine, and smoke began to pour from the front of the truck, clouding my view of the road. “Shit.” I pulled over and cut the engine. I closed my eyes and gripped the steering wheel. Dad would go absolutely apeshit if I needed the truck towed.
After unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door, I turned to Jules and said, “Hold on, I’ll go check what’s wrong.”
We were so fucked.
The extent of my car knowledge could be written on my non-existent diploma and we’d passed the last gas station a few miles back. I jumped out of the truck and opened the hood, hot steam barreling into my chest and face. Swatting away the fumes, I stared down at the labyrinth of parts, most of them I wasn’t able to name. If I looked at it long enough, maybe it would tell me what was wrong, like a Magic 8 Ball. Fix thingy next to square-shaped thing. Yep, I was going to look like an imbecile in front of Jules.
The truck shifted and Jules appeared by my side a few seconds later.
“You looked a little lost, thought I’d come out to help.”
I cracked a smile. “Okay, MacGyver.”
“Can you scoot?” She nudged me with her hip, and I took a step back, giving her more room.
Okay, so she wasn’t kidding. Interesting, since she struck me as more the spa type rather than a grease monkey.
She crossed her arms over her chest and nibbled on her lip. “Can you get me a screwdriver?” She peeled off her boots, set them next to the front tire, and pulled back her hair like she was getting down to business.
I eyed her as she surveyed the truck. “You actually know what’s wrong?”
She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. “Stereotype much?”
Damn, dirty-mouthed Peach worked on cars? My cock hardened at the thought of her bent over my Camaro, working on the transmission, grease covering those perfectly manicured nails. Shit. I was supposed to be dealing with this situation, definitely not thinking insert muscle car, miniskirt, and my dick.
I made my way to the truck and got a screwdriver from the toolkit. After I handed it to her, she grabbed something—maybe a hose?—and screwed it into something else. I watched, transfixed by how easily she worked her away around the engine, assessing every part.
She brushed her hand off on her pants and pulled her boots back on. “There. That should do it.”
“What was wrong?”
“Radiator hose came undone. Whoever worked on this last didn’t do a very good job at tightening down everything. Your dad might want to go to someone new.” She tossed me the screwdriver and swaggered back to the truck, not bothering to turn around to see if I was watching. She knew I was.
Chapter Seven
Jules
Seeing that dumbstruck look on Ryan’s pretty-boy face made this whole month of dealing with grumpy customers totally worth it.
Yes, DeShane, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.
It wasn’t often I got to surprise people—in a good way, anyhow.
Most people didn’t have a clue that I knew how to work on cars. To everyone else, I was the girl to come to for fashion advice or, since I had worked at GNC, what protein powder was best to use before or after a workout.
Several minutes of silence went by before Ryan cleared his throat and turned to me, his blond tufts of hair peeking out underneath his hat. “That was impressive. Where did you learn to work on cars?”
I shrugged. “My uncle owns an auto body shop. I used to help out every summer.” Except this summer, because the thought of being stuck at home, under my parents’ constant why aren’t you studying, you need to spend every second not having fun wasn’t something I could handle. Not that I’d admit that to Ryan. He had his own parental issues, that much was clear from his interactions with Jack.
He stared, processing the new information. Good. Proved him wrong. I was more than just blond hair and blue eyes and, from Ryan’s wide eyes, he’d just realized this for the first time. “If it weren’t for you, we’d be making the five mile walk to that gas station.”