The Mechanic’s Secret Santa (Christmas in Alpine Valley #8)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

AARON

I stare at the email from Benson Motorsports with disbelief. Though I had the opportunity to be a car chief for one of the most legendary drivers in NASCAR history, my goal as a mechanic had always been to be on the Benson Motorsports team.

Now the offer I’ve dreamed of receiving since I was fourteen years old is sitting in my inbox.

Fuck.

It is tempting.

Way more tempting than I’d like to admit.

“No,” I say, closing the laptop on my kitchen counter. Since Meg cancelled our date to go drive around and look at Christmas lights, I planned to focus on the engine rebuild. I know Meg is scared of how very real things are becoming between us. Some space might give her a little perspective.

And if that doesn’t work, we have brunch with Kendra tomorrow.

I grab a beer from the fridge, but before I can head back downstairs to the shop, my phone chimes.

Meg: Fake Boyfriend, I need you.

“Well, well, well.”

Meg: Don’t get smug. My delivery truck broke down. It’s a 911.

Aaron: Where are you at?

Meg: It’s a secret.

Aaron: I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how to find you.

Meg: You can’t tell anyone.

Aaron: Why?

Meg: See above text.

Aaron: Why is it a secret?

Meg: If you get here five minutes ago, I’ll tell you after my truck is fixed.

When Meg shoots me an address, I abandon my unopened beer and grab my keys instead.

A few minutes later, I spot the bakery truck parked outside a loading door of what I’ve only known to be an abandoned commercial building. Meg stands beside the vehicle, hugging her arms tight around her.

“Why aren’t you inside? It’s freezing out here.” She gives in, for a moment, and lets me wrap my arms around her to help warm her up. I swear I feel her body sigh against mine. It’s the best fucking feeling. Meg’s a strong, independent woman and I would never want her to be anything else. But I do want to be the one she feels safe letting her guard down around.

The rare moment is cut short when headlights from down the block blind us. Meg tugs herself free. “The truck died, and it locked itself. I need to get it inside before anyone sees me here.”

Though I’m tempted to ask why, the desperation in her eyes undoes me. I use a trick I learned from a buddy to pop the lock with ease that should be—and probably is—illegal. The keys are loose in the ignition, and I push them in the rest of the way in to see if the engine will turn over.

Nothing.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asks, teeth chattering.

“How old is your battery?”

“How would I know that?”

I pop the hood and quickly discover the problem.

“Did you touch anything under the hood recently?”

“Until just now, I didn’t even know how to get under the hood. Why?”

“One of your battery cables was disconnected. And everything under here could use a tune up.” I could say more, like her spark plugs look ready to go or the battery definitely is past the “sell by date,” but now isn’t the time.

I reconnect the cable and the truck starts right up.

After I open the garage door—and ensure it won’t come crashing down a second time—Meg backs the truck inside.

“You want to tell me what this is all about?” I ask, holding one of the boxes from the passenger seat with a bakery logo I don’t recognize.

Meg stares at the box for several beats, then flickers her gaze to mine. “You’re sworn to secrecy.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.” She pokes me in the chest to emphasize her point. “You especially can’t tell my mom.”

I want to laugh at her adorable seriousness, but I sense that would be a really bad move. So I nod, just as serious as she is, and vow, “I won’t.”

“This place is part of my business expansion plan.”

“Expansion?”

Meg’s ambition has always been an attractive quality, but something about that sparkle in her eyes now has me downright turned on.

“I had the logo designed to help target online business.”

“Online?”

“Come on.” Meg waves me forward, her tense expression softening into one of subtle excitement. The twinkle in her emerald eyes wakes my dick right up. Cold? What cold? “I might as well give you the tour.”