There’s banging coming from the tent and the clattering of tools. Fiorella curses in an extremely impressive display of Italian. I smile to myself as I step through the flap.
“I didn’t realize you had such a filthy mouth,” I say.
She jerks around and bangs her knee on the side of the car. More curses flow out like water from a well, and she actually hurls a damn wrench at my face. Lucky me, I have good reflexes and she’s apparently really bad at throwing. It tumbles harmlessly to the ground behind me.
“When did you get here, you prick?” she says, rubbing her leg and glaring at me. Grease is smeared across her cheek and her hair’s up. Sweat sheens on her skin. It’s a hot afternoon and she’s been baking in here.
But my god, she’s fucking beautiful.
Her old stained Harley tee clings to her perfect chest. Her nipples are stiff and poking at the fabric. Her jeans are slung low, showing off just the slightest strip of her midriff and hips, and my dick stiffens as my eyes roam her. She looks like a typical grease monkey, except to me it’s like she’s a goddamn filthy angel.
Or maybe a demon sent here to ruin me.
“Just showed up now.” I amble around the edge of the tent, checking out the car. But mostly checking out her. “How’s work going?”
“Slowly.” She glances over her shoulder and her expression softens. “Making headway though. Helps that I have nothing else to do.”
“Anyone bother you out here?”
She shakes her head. “Not at all. Been quiet. Actually, forgot I was just in some crappy tent in the middle of an empty lot. Except for all the dirt and grass.” She kicks at the ground.
“Not much I can do about that, but how about a fan? And a generator to run some electronics?”
“That’d be good.” She frowns like she’s skeptical of something. “You’re being kind again. I don’t like it.”
“You’re not used to that, are you?”
“Not from men like you.”
“What’s your experience with men like me, huh?”
She shrugs lightly, turning her back and running her fingers along the car. “Mostly Dad’s guys keep their distance from me.”
“Wonder why. Can’t be thatfuck off and dieattitude.”
She snorts, and I think she’s smiling but her back’s to me. Which gives me a nice view of her ass, so I don’t mind one bit. “The rest of them are pricks. They take what they want and only give back what they’re willing. None of them give a shit about anyone but themselves. I learned that the hard way.”
“Yeah? And what’s the hard way?”
She pauses, shoulders slumped. “I forgot you don’t know what happened to me.” She laughs lightly and turns around. “That’s actually kind of nice, now that I think about it.”
“What happened to you?” My eyebrows raise. I could tell this girl went through some shit, but I haven’t gone digging too hard yet.
“My little secret.” She grins viciously and picks up a screwdriver, banging it against her palm. “You got a reason for coming here, big guy?”
I shrug slightly and my smile fades. “I visited your father earlier. I just thought you’d want to know that he’s not doing well.”
“We knew that already.”
“He wasn’t mentally all there. He thought your brother was Corrado for a second and wasn’t totally coherent for most of my visit. I don’t know how much time he’s got left, but—” I hold her with my gaze. No time to be soft about this. She needs to know. “I’d say goodbye sooner rather than later.”
She stops tapping the screwdriver and tosses it back onto the tool bench. It clatters into a mess of piled stuff. Only a day and she’s already turning the place into chaos. “Thanks for the advice. If that’s all, I want to get back to work.”
I hesitate, not sure how to take that. I just told the girl her father’s deteriorating, and she’s acting like I made a bad lunch recommendation or some shit. “Seriously, Fio?—”
“I’ll handle it, alright? Thanks for your concern, but it’s not needed.”
I let out a breath. It’s just some tough girl shit. She doesn’t want to show me how much it hurts, knowing her father is dying. Guess her armor’s back in place.
