Page 22 of Bunker Down, Baby

I stand there like a lunatic, blinking at the empty space he left behind.

I think I whisper “Sweet dreams” back, but I’m not totally sure, because my brain’s short-circuiting and I’m already halfway planning the wedding.

I make myself leave, hand shaking a little as I turn the lock from the outside.

Tomorrow I’m bringing home a mechanic.

But tonight I’m someone who just got kissed by her future husband in a secure underground love bunker.

And honestly?

I’ve never been happier.

Chapter Five

Maple

I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard. That’s important.

Because this isn’t a date. This is a recruitment. A seduction.

A very practical, high-stakes operation that will eventually end with him in my bunker, possibly in my bed, and definitely not fixing brakes for the ungrateful general public anymore.

So I go with jeans. Fitted, flattering, good pocket coverage. No rips because I’m not a teenager. A solid, no-nonsense kind of jean that says I’m grounded, but still down to ride out the end of the world with a man who knows how to work a socket wrench.

For the top, I try on three different shirts before I settle on the blue one. It’s soft. Drapes just right. Not a plain t-shirt but not too blousey, either. Shows a little collarbone. Suggests curves. Suggests I might make muffins from scratch. Suggests I know how to keep a generator running and also look hot doing it.

Dean’s going to love it.

I keep my makeup minimal, natural, like I didn’t spend twenty-five minutes getting my eyeliner wing to match the exact angle of my cheekbones. Hair half-up, soft and a little tousled like I might have just woken up that pretty.

I even spritz on a bit of cologne.

Not perfume. Cologne.

The same kind Evan wears.

Because yes, I bought a bottle for myself. And yes, I think smelling a little like his sexy bunker roommate will activate something in this man’s brain. Competition, curiosity, possibly mild panic.

I finish the look with boots. Sturdy but cute. I need him to believe I know my way around a garage without looking like I’m cosplaying as Rosie the Riveter.

On my way out, I glance through the security cam footage from Evan’s room.

He’s asleep again.

He sleeps a lot now.

I like that. He deserves it.

Plus, he looked so sweet last night, after our kiss. All tucked up under the blanket, completely un-cuffed and still not trying to run.

Progress.

I tell myself I’m not giddy as I lock the bunker behind me. I tell myself this is just the next logical step in the plan. One man down. Four to go.

The mechanic, his name is Dean Mercer, but I just call him Dean in my notebook, is always up early. And he always gets to the shop about an hour before it opens.

I’ve checked.

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