Page 3 of Tempted By the Single Dad Mechanic
Riley, who's been surprisingly quiet during this exchange, pipes up again. "Are you staying in Blackwater Falls?"
I glance at Casey, then back at her. "I... don't know. I was just passing through."
"You should stay," she says, with the confidence of someone who's never doubted her own opinions. "We have a really good diner. And a park. And my pre-K has a turtle named Mr. Shellby."
"Riley—"
"What? She should know about Mr. Shellby. He's important."
Casey looks at me with an expression that says *I'm sorry my child is like this,* but I'm smiling despite everything.
"Mr. Shellby sounds very important," I tell Riley seriously.
She beams.
Casey clears his throat. "I'll head out and tow your car in now. Shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. You're welcome to wait here. There's a chair by the desk, and Riley will probably talk your ear off, but she's harmless."
"I'm very harmless," Riley agrees.
I hesitate. "Are you sure? I don't want to be in the way."
"You're not." He's already heading toward the garage, grabbing a shirt, thank God, from a hook on the wall and pulling it on. It's a faded gray t-shirt with Casey's Automotive printed on the back, and it clings to his chest in a way that really doesn't help my situation. "Besides, can't leave a customer stranded on Main Street. Bad for business."
He says it lightly, but I get the sense he'd do it even if it was bad for business.
The bell chimes as he heads out, and then it's just me and Riley. She looks up from her coloring book, studying me with the kind of unfiltered curiosity only small children can get away with.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" she asks.
I choke on air. "What?"
"A boyfriend. My friend Sophie's mom has a boyfriend and he's really tall and he brings her flowers."
"I... no. No boyfriend."
"Why not?"
"Riley," I say gently, "that's a really complicated question."
"Is it because boys are gross? Sophie says boys are gross."
I can't help it. I laugh. "Sometimes, yeah."
She nods sagely, like I've confirmed a universal truth, and goes back to her coloring. I sink into the chair by the desk, letting my purse drop to the floor beside me. The adrenaline from the car dying is starting to wear off, leaving me exhausted and a little shaky.
This wasn't part of the plan. Not that there was much of a plan to begin with: just drive, see things, keep moving. Don't stop long enough to think about the empty passenger seat.
But now I'm stuck. In Blackwater Falls with a dead car and a bank account that's running on fumes. I pull out my phone and open the notes app, where I've been keeping a running list of the towns I've passed through. I add *Blackwater Falls* to the bottom, and for a moment, I imagine telling Annie about it.
*There's this mechanic,* I'd say. *He's ridiculously hot and he has the cutest kid and I think my car might be dead for real this time.*
She'd laugh. She'd tell me it's fate. She believed in that kind of thing—destiny, meant-to-be, the universe conspiring to put people in the right place at the right time.
I never did. Not really.
But sitting here, in this tiny shop that smells like oil and rubber, listening to Riley hum while she colors, I think maybe I want to.
Just a little.
