Summer with a Quantum Mechanic (Love Beach)

Chapter 2

I watch Miles crouch beside the SUV inspecting the damage. "Well, I can't say without running a diagnostic, but it might be best not to drive this until we know it's safe."

"Great. How long will that take?" I sigh out trying to hide my frustration. Missing a meeting is not the best first impression.

"Not too long. Problem is the shop will be closed by the time we arrive. Mike, the Mechanic-"

I snicker at the unintentional 80s reference.

"Mike will be in the shop at 9am. There are about three cars ahead of you." He's looking down at his phone. "I've put you in the queue, so look for a call in the early afternoon unless something changes."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it. I don't know what I was thinking. My mind was elsewhere, I guess."

"Taylor have anything to do with your little detour?"

Is he teasing me? "Taylor?"

"Your music. Folklore or Evermore?"

"You know Taylor Swift?" Not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

"Pfft." He scoffs. "What kind of self respecting uncle would I be if I was unable to converse with my neice about the relative merits of either album to not only her overall discography but the music industry - nay, the world - in general?"

The uncontrollable burst of laughter is loud and unexpected, and I rush to control myself before the snorting begins.

"You don't say?"

"I do say. So does Sophie."

"Your niece?"

"The very - excuse me - only one."

"Only one?"

"In a sea of boys." And the pure disdain with which he says the word boys lets me know he's probably mimicking his neice's experession, "there is but one Sophie. The only female grandchild my parents will ever have."

What's a polite way to ask if he has kids and if he's still - "My son," he continues. "Is one of the icky carriers of two y chromosomes in the family. He gets by." He snorts.

I snort. Oh, shit, I just snorted. "I'm sure he does. How old is your son?"

There is no ring on that finger but you never know. Best to ease into this conversation. "Grayson turned 15 last month and is celebrating with his mother and stepfather in New Zealand as we speak."

Oh. "Lord of the Rings fans?"

"Thankfully, no. I cannot imagine the conversations we would have had about what brothers and sisters should not be doing together at such an impressionable age. No, his stepfather, Kurt, is from New Zealand and his daughter is getting married."

"That sounds lovely."

"It does, doesn't it? Lindsay, Grayson's mom, invited me to the ceremony, but I couldn't get away so quickly. It was kind of a last minute, they're going to elope if we don't do something soon event. " He pauses staring at me. "Why am I telling you all of this?"

"Passing time? Also, it's not you. There's something about me that causes people to spill all their innermost secrets."

"Really?" God, he's cute.

"Really. It's a gift and a curse." I laugh still remembering the gas station attendant at the Sam's Club. Hope he makes it to his gig in time.

"Oh, sorry."

"Shit. No, that's not. That's not what I meant at all. I'm from the South. I think it's a requirement to be able to strike up random conversations with strangers. At least, it was where I came from."

"You don't sound like you're from the South."

"I get that. Yep, no accent at all. Not sure why that is and can't say I'm upset about it." I watch Miles working the car. He hasn't paused in his attention to what he's doing during our entire conversation. "Done this a few times?"

"A few." He replies. Looing over his shoulder to flash me a heart-stopping grin. Miles works with an efficiency that's almost mesmerizing. His hands move with purpose, expertly attaching the tow hooks and chains. I stand by, watching him maneuver the tow truck, impressed by his silent competence. It's oddly attractive, this combination of strength and skill.

There's something about the way he carries himself – strong, confident, yet at ease – that makes my pulse race. I've always been in control of my life, never one to ask for help or admit defeat. Standing here next to Miles, I can feel my hidden vulnerability beginning to surface. For some reason, I don't mind.

The sunlight catches on Miles' hair as he works, making it glow like a halo around his head. The muscles in his arms flex with each movement, and I find my gaze lingering on the curve of his biceps. I shake my head, trying to focus on anything else, but my eyes betray me by returning to him. The metallic smell of burned rubber and gasoline invade my nostrils as I watch Miles connect the SUV to the hitch. Brows furrrowed in concentration, I almosst feeling guilty for making him dirty up his nice clothes.

"Rescue many damsels in distress?" There is absolutely no agenda behind my question. Nope.

He chuckles, not taking his eyes off the task at hand. "Not really. I don't usually drive the hitch, but I picked this one up in Charleston and was driving it back. You are its inaugural tow."

Ah, that explains his attire. "Lucky me."

"You might want to stand back." Miles says, his voice cutting through the din of passing vehicles.

"Oh, right. Sorry." I reply, taking a step back, swatting at a particularly persistent mosquito.

He secures the chains, the metal clangs sharply, a stark contrast to the softer sounds of the surrounding nature and the distant hum of the highway.

"All set." Miles announces, moving back to the truck. "This shouldn't take long."

The engine of his truck roars to life, a deep, a grumbling sound that promises power and capability. I watch, holding my breath as the SUV slowly begins to inch forward, the chains taut with the strain. Slowly, the vehicle emerges from the ditch, gravel crunching under its tires, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me.

"Thank you," I say my admiration for him growing. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Called AAA?" He says, the skin surrounding his hazel crinkling with laughter.

"Right?" I reply. We stand there for a moment, the air between us somehow feeling both electrifying and comforting.

"Looks like everything is fine, but you may want to let me tow it to the station for a once over especially since it's a rental.

"Better safe than sorry?" I suggest.

"Exactly."

"I can give you a ride back if you'd like."

"Sure. I'm not going to make my meeting. Not sure I want to go anyway. I'll just all and reschedule while you load it up or whatever it's called." I wave mindlessly at the SUV and two truck.

The air is warm and thick with the scent of summer, mingling with the faint whiff of gasoline and oil. I look at Miles, his confident posture as he leans against the now-repaired SUV, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. A charged tension hums between us, almost tangible.

"Hey, it's Hope. First of all, I'm fine, but you're never going to believe this. A tow truck just pulled me out of a ditch. I'm fine. Really. Just tired, sweaty, and a little dirty."

The groaning sound of the pull system is loud, and I end the call rather than trying to talk over the noise.

"Your hands are really something," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's not every day you meet someone who can fix a car like that."

"Thank you," he replies, his eyes holding mine captive. "There's just something about working with my hands that I find... satisfying."

It takes every ounce of maturity within me not to comment.

**********

We climb into the tow truck, I'm struck by how small the cab feels, our bodies just inches apart. The scent of his cologne, a subtle mixture of sandalwood and citrus, fills the air, and I find myself breathing deeply, savoring the aroma.

"Buckle up," Miles says, his voice low and smooth. "Safety first."

I nod, fumbling with the seatbelt as I try to ignore the way my heart races at his proximity. He pulls onto the road, I can't help but steal glances at him from the corner of my eye, admiring the strong line of his jaw and the way his hands grip the steering wheel with confidence.

"So, what brings you to Love Beach?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

I hesitate, wondering how much to reveal. "Work, actually. I have a big presentation tomorrow at the conference center."

"Ah, so you're one of those corporate types, huh?" His tone is teasing, and I can't help but smile.

"Guilty as charged, but don't hold it against me - I'm actually quite charming once you get to know me."

"I don't doubt that for a second," he replies, and I swear his flirting with me.

We continue to chat, I find myself opening up to him in a way I haven't with anyone in a long time. We talk about our shared love of terrible puns, our favorite childhood memories, and our dreams for the future.

It's refreshing, being able to connect with someone on a deeper level, even if it is just a brief encounter in a tow truck.

I bite back the pang of disappointment, knowing our time together is coming to an end. I'm not ready to say goodbye, not when I feel like I'm just starting to get to know him.

"Well, here we are," Miles says, pulling into the parking lot. "Let's get your car checked out and make sure everything's in working order."

I nod, trying to hide my reluctance as I unbuckle my seatbelt. "Thank you again, for everything. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

He shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. "No need to repay me. It's all part of the job."

I will not ask if there's a happy ending package!!

**********

Miles leads me into the auto shop, the cool air conditioning providing a welcome respite from the sweltering heat outside. He exchanges a few words with the mechanic, explaining the situation with my car and arranging for a thorough inspection.

As they discuss the details, I find myself studying Miles, admiring the confident way he carries himself. It's hard to believe that someone so accomplished and sought-after on the internet could be so down-to-earth in person.

"Alright, everything's set," Miles says, turning back to me. "They'll take good care of your car and give me a call when it's ready to go."

"Thank you, really," I say, feeling a sudden surge of nerves. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

He smiles, and I swear my heart skips a beat. "It was my pleasure, Hope. I'm just glad I could help."

We stand there for a moment, an awkward silence settling between us. I know I should say goodbye, but I can't seem to find the words.

"Well, I guess I should get going," Miles says rubbing the back of his neck. "Unless there's anything else I can do for you?"

I shake my head, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. "No, no, you've done more than enough already."

He nods, turning to leave, but something inside me snaps. I can't let him walk away, not without at least trying to see him again.

"Wait," I blurt out, my cheeks flushing. "I was thinking, maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? You know, as a thank you for rescuing me today?"

Surprise crosses his face. I'm afraid he'll say no, that I've overstepped my bounds.

He smiles a genuine, heart-melting smile that makes my knees go weak. "I'd like that, Hope. How about tomorrow afternoon at The Cove? I hear they make a mean latte."

"It's a date," I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. "I mean, not a date-date, but, you know, a friendly coffee date."

Miles chuckles. "I know what you mean. I'll see you then."

With a final wave, he turns and heads back to the tow truck, leaving me standing there with a goofy grin on my face.