His smile was slow and lopsided. "Get me the jack."

Damn. She scrambled for the jack to hide her blush, handing it over to him.

"So, what's actually your name, then?" she said, raising her chin. "Unless you want me to call you Jack. 'Cause that works just fine for me."

He scratched his nose, regarding her with amusement still glittering in his eyes. "Levi," he said.

She raised her eyebrows at him. It fit in a kind of cowboy-country-boy sort of way. "Nice."

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He slid the jack under the front of the car, and she pushed away as he raised it. He spun the lug nuts and slid the bolts out one at a time, handing them to Harper without a comment. The wind ruffled his short hair, medium brown with just a touch of auburn where the sunlight glinted off it. He pulled the wheel off, not appearing to notice the weight as it came free of the axle, then slid the new one on just as easily.

He held out a hand without even looking at her, and Harper put a bolt in it, then the nut.

"Where're you from?" Harper asked, handing him another.

Again, that wolfish look, the gaze that saw too much. "Around."

Wouldn't he like to eat me up.

"And where are you going?"

"North." He held out his hand, and she put the last nut and bolt in it.

Damn. She was heading the other way, back to Baltimore. She wouldn't mind taking a detour for him, though. He was way too interesting to just let him buzz out of her life as quickly as he came in.

Now that she was standing, she could see his motorcycle, a dozen or so feet behind Baby. Some exotic model-it was probably worth twice her car's value, maybe more. Her heart sped up at the mere thought of the kind of speed that machine could muster. Maybe she could get him to take her for a spin. She loved motorcycles. Not as much as her Baby, but she didn't love anything as much as her Baby.

He tightened the last lug by hand before lowering the jack.

"That's a pretty hot bike. Think you could take me for a ride?" she asked.

He raked her with his gaze, still spinning the jack to lower it. "Tempting. But no."

"Going to be late?" she prompted.

"Late." He seemed to find the word amusing. "Yeah, something like that."

He slid the jack out. Harper hauled the wheel back to the trunk and heaved it in, sad scraps of rubber dangling from the wheel. Scowling, she stuck the jack in after it. She wasn't used to getting shot down, not by a man who was so clearly attracted to her.




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