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leaned back against the woodwork.  His eyes were focused on me intently.  He looked like he enjoyed watching me make coffee.
    Good lord, I loved the sexy little wrinkles around his eyes.
    “So,” I said, scrambling for something to say.  “Did you have any trouble changing the starter?”
    He shook his head.  “I can change one of those in my sleep.  I got to show a couple of the guys there how to do it, so it was kind of a teaching project.”
    “They don’t know how to change one already?”
    Jake shrugged.  “They’re not certified mechanics.  Most of them started off as un-loaders or stockmen on the lot.  Mostly we change tires, batteries , and do oil changes.”
    I liked the way he sounded when he talked about work.  His voice seemed more resonant, like rich black coffee.
    “So how do you know so much?”  The coffee was finished, so I poured two mugs and asked, “Cream… sugar?”
    “Black,” he said as he moved toward me, until he was right beside me.  I could feel the heat rolling off his body, and smell the lingering scent of oil and grease.
    He took a sip of his coffee and sighed.  He looked out my kitchen window and smiled.  “Your neighbor is spying on you.  She’s acting like she’s watering plants, but she keeps looking over here.”
    I shook my head and pulled the thin summer kitchen curtains closed.  “I’m surprised she didn’t have her field glasses out.  She’s incorrigible.”
    He turned and looked away, out toward the front of the house.
    “I’ve been fixing cars since I could hold a wrench.  My dad owned a garage my whole life.  I just fell into working with him.”
    He took another drink of his coffee.  I got the feeling he was thinking deep thoughts.  Thoughts he didn’t like having.
    “Then a few years ago he got sick… started forgetting things.  He died a few months later.”
    He stopped and I saw him grit his teeth.  “I tried keeping the business going, but competition’s steep and big chain stores make it so you have to sell yourself short on every job.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling my words were simply not sufficient. 
    “Long story short, I closed the garage, sold it for my mom, and now she lives in a retirement complex down by my sister.”
    “Poor woman,” I said, and then immediately regretted it.  It was a bitchy thing to say.
    “Who?  My mom or my sister?  Believe me,” he said, a little smile pulling at his lips.  “My sister got it from my mom.  Norma Leer is reigning title holder and champ.”
    My head snapped up and I felt my spine tingle.  “Norma Leer?  Ms. Leer is your mother?”
    Jake scrubbed the back of his neck again, looking embarrassed.  “The one and only.”
    “Holy crap!”  I stood there and stared, slack jawed.  This was just mind-boggling.  “I had your mother for typing in high school.  She freaking hated me.”
    “She hated everyone.  I told you Paula got it from her.  The two of them are just nasty when they’re left to their own devices.”
    I couldn’t believe it.  The tormentor of my high school years, and my most hated teacher were both his blood kin. 
    How hadn’t I known about Paula being Ms. Leer’s daughter, or that Paula had a brother?
    I laughed and shook my head.  “But you’re so nice.”
    Jake held his clenched fist to his heart.  “Good grief, the kiss of death.  She thinks I’m a ‘nice guy ’!”
    I laughed and pushed him away.  “I like nice guys.  You get extra bonus points in this house for being a good guy.”
    He slouched down and wriggled his eyebrows.  “But I hear women can’t resist the bad boy.”
    I reached out to push him again… or maybe punch him ineffectually in the chest.  But he reached out and gently took my hand in his. 
    His hand was rough and calloused, but so warm and alive feeling.  Just that touch made my heart pound in my chest, and my breath catch.
    We stood there, looking into each other’s eyes for a few long, slow