Page 39 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

And that did something dangerous to my heart.

I should have pulled away. Should have reminded him—and myself—that I wasn’tstayingin Medford, that I didn’t need saving.

But instead, I let him guide me forward, down the quiet streets, toward the one place I knew I shouldn’t go.

Ethan’s home.

And God help me, I didn’t want to turn back.

Ethan’s house was tucked away on the edge of town, a small craftsman-style home with warm light spilling from the front windows. It was nothing fancy, but it felt safe. The kind of place that had seen late-night talks over whiskey and early mornings with strong coffee.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let me in. I hesitated for just a second—because this was a line, wasn’t it?—before stepping over the threshold.

The air inside smelled like cedar. I wrapped my arms around myself as Ethan shut the door, locking it with a quiet click.

“Sit,” he said, nodding toward the couch. “I'll make some tea.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Tea? That's unexpected.”

He smirked, disappearing into the kitchen. “I’m full of surprises. Unless youdowant something stronger?”

I considered it for a moment. “Actually, tea sounds perfect.”

I sank onto the couch, my body aching in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion. My mind was still tangled in Hank’s words, but for the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe.

Ethan returned a few minutes later, setting a steaming mug in front of me. He sat down beside me, close but not too close, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“So,” he said, voice low. “Talk to me.”

I stared into my tea, watching the steam curl into the air. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just start anywhere.”

I took a slow sip, gathering my thoughts. “None of this makes sense. My uncle wasn’t some scheming businessman. He was just George, as far as I know. A guy who loved books and probably had more conversations with fictional people than real ones.”

Ethan was quiet, waiting.

I sighed. “What if Hank’s right? What if there’s something I don’t know about George? Beatrice hinted at it, too.”

My parents hadn't been close to him by the time I was a freshman, so talk about him was limited in our house. Withthem gone too, there's no one close to me who could fill in those gaps about George.

Ethan leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Aurora, listen to me. Hank Lawson is a liar. He's a manipulator. He's using fear to make you second-guess yourself, and it’s working.”

“But what if?—”

“No.” His voice was firm, but there was something else there, too. Something gentle. “I know men like him. The more you let him get in your head, the easier it is for him to control the narrative. You don’t let him win by playing his game. And Beatrice. Well, I’m pretty sure she was in love with your uncle, so she's just upset that he's gone.”

I let his words sink in, let the weight of them settle in my chest. I wanted to believe him. More than anything, I wanted to believe that Hank was just blowing smoke and that Beatrice hadn't really meant anything.

But what if that wasn’t the case?

I glanced up at Ethan, and for the first time since I met him, I let myselfreallylook at him. The sharp lines of his jaw, the storm brewing in his blue eyes, the way he sat so still, like he was holding something back.

He was angry.Forme.

I wasn’t used to that.

Something in my chest tightened.

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