“We can hook you up with snow tires when winter hits.”

“Random. You’re very random.” She whipped into a space with the ease of the Zen parker.

“I am. I’m also impressed with your parallel parking.”

“I used to deliver pizzas in the summer and over holiday breaks. You gotta be good or it takes too long.” She gathered her things, neatly avoiding his compliment as he had her comments about the war.

Inside, they settled in at a scarred table and ordered.

“What about you? I know your uncle’s shop had been open a long time. Did you grow up here too?” Duke asked.

“Seattle born and bred. Went to Ballard High School. I grew up about three miles from my aunt and uncle. They still live in the same house.”

His chocolate shake arrived, along with her cranberry juice, and shortly thereafter, the food.

“I don’t need snow tires, by the way. I have a set. I just show up and my uncle or Craig puts them on. The guy who bought the shop from my uncle promised my family we’d all still be able to get our work done there.”

Duke frowned. Inwardly, of course. This was her family. Naturally they’d put on her snow tires.

“Okay. Well, remember Twisted Steel does that for all our employees too. Might be more convenient to come to work and have it done while you’re there. I’ll even volunteer to load them into the back of your truck so you won’t get your clothes dirty.”

“What about your clothes?” One of her brows slid up. Every time she did that, he wanted to lean in and press his lips to it.

She tucked into her heaping plate of food and he followed. “My clothes are made for moving tires into the back of pickup trucks,” Duke said.

“Fine with me. I like to watch you all heft stuff. It makes all those tattoos and muscles flex.”

He grinned but found himself annoyed that she’d look at anyone’s ink and muscles but his.

“Right on. I’ll remind you come winter.”

“It’s not like it snows that much.”

“You do realize you even eat neatly?”

“What is your fascination with my neatness?” Her expression was teasing, amused so he knew she wasn’t offended.

He was fascinated by everything about her.

“I like precision. You’re precise. It’s good to be around.” That wasn’t a lie. Duke found deep comfort in people and things that worked as they should. She exuded an effortless sense of being utterly capable. She’d taken over Lottie’s job but Carmella had tightened everything up, put everything where it should be. Demanded they all do the same.

She made a sound, one of those women things that’s sort of a hum but not quite so you didn’t know if it was good or bad.

It made his cock hard in either case.

“I like that.” She nodded. “Precise is a good thing. Hang on a second. I need hot sauce.”

Carmella turned to the group sitting next to them. A rowdy bunch of dudes making lots of noise, eating lots of food.

She cleared her throat and Duke watched, amazed as to a one, they all gave their attention to her.

Her smile—the one she gave the guys at the shop—said good, boys in that tough fifth grade teacher way. And they all wanted to help her.

“Can I borrow your hot sauce for a few shakes?”

Two bottles were thrust her way and they all waited, watching her as she chose one and shook it over her food before recapping it and handing them both back.

“Thank you.”

Christ. She’d made them so happy, like big goofy dogs she’d played ball with a few times. It wasn’t that she used her sexuality or even her gender to manipulate anyone. She had this authority that guys like him seemed to snap to attention at the sight of.

She was efficient. Orderly. And yet he knew she had a sensual side. He’d seen glimpses of it living next door to her over the last two years. That was the side he wanted more of.

Not that he had any complaints about this side of her either. Duke liked Carmella. Liked being around her. Wanted a hell of a lot more of her.

That pleased him, and as he liked pleasure a whole lot, he couldn’t figure out why he should deny himself.

They finished up and the table of dudes waved and called out their good nights.

“You’re magic,” Duke said as they got back to her truck.

“I am?”

“You’re really good with people.”

Carmella waved it away. “Do you want me to take you home or back to the shop?” she said, changing the subject once she got the car started.

“My bike’s at the shop so there is best.”

There was more small talk on the way over to Twisted Steel, but before too long he found himself having to get out of her truck and leave her.

“Thanks for dinner. I’m planning on sleeping the moment my head hits the pillow and dream sweet, carby dreams.”

It was one of the silliest things he’d ever heard her say. He really dug that.

“Right on. I’ll be doing the same. See you tomorrow.”

“You too. Drive safe.”

She pulled away as he watched, waiting until her lights had faded off until he turned to head inside.

CHAPTER Six

Sitting on his back deck in the late evening light, Duke watched her. Like a weirdo, he knew, and yet, he didn’t move.

Carmella had her windows open as she cleaned her kitchen. Her hair was wrapped up in a bandana and she wore a tiny pair of cutoffs and a T-shirt as she scrubbed a counter.