Page 43 of Tempted By the Single Dad Mechanic
Her hair is spread across the pillow, one arm thrown over my chest, her breathing slow and even. The early morning light filters through the curtains, casting everything in a soft gray glow.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, slowly not to wake her, and just... look at her.
My girlfriend. My partner. The woman who walked into my shop with a broken-down car and somehow fixed everything that was broken in me. She stirs slightly, mumbling something unintelligible, and burrows closer. I tighten my arm around her and press a kiss to her forehead.
"Casey?" she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.
"Go back to sleep," I whisper. "It's early."
"What time is it?"
"Six."
She groans. "Why are you awake?"
"Can't help it. Habit."
"Your habits are terrible," she mumbles, but she's smiling.
I smile too and close my eyes, breathing in the smell of her shampoo—something floral that I can never remember the name of but that I've come to associate with home.
Two years.
Two years since she stood in my shop and asked if I could fix her car. Two years since I made the terrifying decision to let her into my life, into Riley's life, and hope like hell she wouldn't leave.
She never left.
She got the job at Murphy's Diner, just like I thought she would. Murphy grumbled about "city girls who probably don't know the difference between scrambled and over-easy," but hired her on the spot when she rattled off the entire menu after looking at it once.
Now she's his favorite employee. She works the breakfast and lunch shifts five days a week, comes home smelling like coffee and bacon, and Riley thinks she's the coolest person in the world.
Hell, I think she's the coolest person in the world.
The shop's doing better too. Word's been spreading. Good old-fashioned word-of-mouth in the age of Yelp reviews, and I've been getting clients from neighboring towns. People who drive twenty, thirty miles because they heard Casey's Automotive is honest and fair and won't try to screw them over.
I had to hire help last year. He's in high school now, works part-time after school and on weekends, and he's good. Really good. A natural talent. It means I can actually take time off. Close the shop for a weekend. Plan a trip.
Which is exactly what we're doing today.
Morgan shifts again, this time opening her eyes and looking up at me.
"You're thinking too loud," she says.
"Sorry."
"What are you thinking about?"
"How lucky I am."
She rolls her eyes, but she's blushing. Even after two years, compliments still make her blush.
"You're sappy in the morning."
"Only with you."
"Lucky me," she says, but she's smiling as she tilts her head up to kiss me.
It's soft and slow, the kind of kiss that doesn't lead anywhere, that's just about being close. We've learned to savor these moments. The quiet ones, before Riley wakes up and the day starts and we have to be responsible adults.
