Page 48 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

She sighed, glancing toward the garage. “I was just wondering how long my car is going to be.”

“You that keen to get out of here?” She didn’t say anything. “Ethan has been working on it, but let me take a look.”

I opened up the shop, focusing on the problem—her car, not the fact that every time I saw her, it felt like the damn ground shifted beneath me.

I held the door open, letting her step inside first.

The shop smelled like oil and metal, the kind of scent that was familiar, steady. Something I could count on.

Unlike the mess in my head.

Aurora tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she followed me through the garage, her eyes flicking around like she was committing every detail to memory.

I wondered if that was because she wanted to remember it or because she wanted to be sure she never had to come back.

The thought shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.

I grabbed a rag from the workbench and wiped my hands, even though they weren’t dirty. “Ethan was working on your car this morning. He said something about the steering column still needing an adjustment, but I can take another look.”

“Thanks.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. I could feel her watching me, like she was waiting for me to say something.

Or maybe she was trying to figure out what the hell was going on in my head.

I wasn’t sure what she saw there, but whatever it was made her exhale softly.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice softer now.

I let out a short laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Long day.”

She didn’t look convinced.

I bent over the hood of her car, focusing on the engine, on the mechanics, on anything that wasn’t the way her presence messed with me.

But my fingers hesitated on the tools, my brain still replaying what had gone down at the gym.

Ethan. Owen. The unspoken war brewing between us.

And then there was her. Standing right here.

Unaware of the firestorm she’d just set off between three brothers who had never let a woman come between them before.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Aurora

The shop smelled like grease,metal, and something citrusy. Probably Mason’s cologne or soap.

It was warmer inside than I expected as he worked under the hood of my car, sleeves pushed up, forearms flexing as he tightened a bolt.

I should have been thinking about my car.

About how soon I could get out of Medford.

Instead, my eyes wandered.

The garage wasn’t messy, but it had that organized chaos feel, like everything had its place even if it didn’t look that way. Tools lined the workbenches, and a few jackets were tossed over a chair in the corner. A half-empty coffee cup sat next to a pile of invoices.

And then I saw it.

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