“Shit,” Randy muttered to herself as she wheeled herself out from underneath the ’96 Mustang.
She grabbed a dirty rag and a wrench and scooted back under the vehicle just as the door to her mechanic’s garage opened.
“Be with you in just a sec,” Randy yelled out to the visitor as she tightened a hose and wiped up some fluid.
“Take your time,” rumbled a deep, sonorous voice that made Randy shiver. The voice had a smooth, velvety quality – a bedroom voice, Randy’s mom had always said. Her mom also had said that Randy had that voice as well.
Randy took a glance at the shoes of the man attached to the voice. They were work boots, dirty, steel-toed, with a pair of jeans draped over the well-worn laces. ‘Well,’ she thought, ‘at least I know he’s not the hoity-toity type.’
Randy couldn’t stand pretentious people. Maybe it was her upbringing in a blue-collar home, where her dad was a mechanic and her mom kept the house; maybe it was that people who made more money than she did seemed to think they were better. Either way, she knew she was ruder to her upper-class customers. They generally came in with little or no knowledge about their fancy-ass cars and then told her she was all out of line when it took her two days to find the problem. This guy probably had something seriously wrong with his car, but at least he’d know what it was. She decided she liked him already, even if he didn’t measure up to his voice.
She finished up under the car, grunted, wiped her face on her sleeve, and slowly moved into the open. She glanced over at her new customer as she emerged.
“Holy shit,” she muttered again before she thought. The guy was absolutely gorgeous. His jeans, dirty though they were, were slung low on his hips. He wore no shirt, and his smooth abdomen was shiny with sweat that reflected the glow of the late afternoon sun. He was deeply tanned, and from where he was leaning against Randy’s desk, he looked like a model. His face was finely chiseled and square-shaped – Randy had once read that such a face denoted virility – and he was watching her with some amusement.
Randy quickly rose to her feet and tried to clear her mind, but she couldn’t take her eyes from his. He had a piercing gaze that pinned her in place like a prisoner.
Then he moved. In one sensuous motion, he was in inches from Randy. His mouth opened and he began to speak, but Randy was still so transfixed that she only caught the last word.
“I… I’m sorry, what?” Randy stuttered, finally coming to her senses.
“I said I didn’t expect to see a woman come out of there,” came the rumbling response.