He leaned forward, and she realized his eyes were a warm golden color that matched his tunic. His jaw was straight and his nose slightly pointed. He could almost be called feminine if he didn’t have the same hulking, masculine, muscled body as the others she’d seen.
“Um, there was someone in the hall,” she said nervously, unable to help mentioning the red-haired giant.
“Oh?” Citrine asked. “Tall? Dark-red hair?”
She nodded.
“That was Magnus, one of our employees. Think nothing of it.”
She took her chair in front of the desk awkwardly, feeling underdressed in her work overalls. “Okay.”
Citrine leaned forward, golden eyes sparkling. “Tell us more about this job you’re needing done.”
She sighed. “I just… This place already seemed weird, and now that I’m here, it’s weirder, but I’m in a tight spot. See, most general handyman businesses don’t have such a… range.”
“Right,” Citrine said, scrolling through something on his computer. “It says here you’re interested in personal protection, general handiwork, and help with automotive care.”
“Uh, yeah,” she said. “I mean, I need help around my shop, but someone has also been vandalizing it, and…” What was she doing? Did she really think she could hire a bodyguard, a mechanic, and a handyman in one spot?
This was probably a front for human trafficking or something, a way to trap gullible women and—
“I’m sorry,” she said, standing. “I forgot I had something today. I have to go.”
“Have we offended you?” Citrine asked, rising but not making any attempt to stop her. “I can assure you we can meet each of your needs. I admit our company is a little… unique. But I can give you references from another client.”
She bit her lip. Something about Citrine made her want to trust him. She was just used to being paranoid for so long now. So used to doing things on her own since her dad had died unexpectedly.
“Give us a chance,” Citrine said. “You’re already here, and I promise we aren’t kidnappers. We just happen to have an employee who has a personal interest in cars. He hasn’t had formal training, but he’s really good with them. And if you hadn’t noticed, most of us are a natural fit for personal protection because we’re kind of… large.”
“Yeah, what are you, a family or something?” she asked warily.
“Something like that,” Citrine said, sitting back in his chair and gesturing for her to do the same. “So give us a chance to meet your needs, and if you think we can’t, I promise you’ll be free to leave here without hassle.”
“Okay,” she said. “So how does it work? Do I hire someone different for each thing, or is there really someone who can do all three?”
“There’s someone who can do all three,” a deep, blunt voice answered as the door to the office swung open.
She looked up in surprise to see the man from before, but greatly changed. His clean, handsome jaw was freshly shaved, and a few bleeding cuts proved it had been done too quickly.
His hair was damp, as if he’d just taken a shower, and with it pushed back out of his face, it was clear he was just as handsome as the men around him.
Dammit.
She’d never been good with good-looking guys, always preferring to hang out with the grease monkeys at her dad’s shop, most of whom saw her as one of the guys.
Guys like this made her feel very much a woman.
He walked into the office and put a hand out for her to shake, and that feeling of odd familiarity ran over her again.
As she shook his hand, she dared to look up into his jade-green eyes and realized in an instant where she’d seen him.
He’d fixed her flat tire that night she’d broken down without a jack. She felt a flush burning up the back of her neck and hoped it didn’t spread to her cheeks.
She jerked her hand back and sat back down while he continued to stare.
“What are you looking at?” she asked.
He just stood there, towering over her, until Citrine clucked his tongue and got the giant’s attention. “Magnus, sit down. This is Lindy, and she’s going to be your client.”
Lindy sat up abruptly. “What? But—” She looked over at Magnus, who seemed supremely smug. Yup, definitely the douchebag who’d pushed her out of the way to work on her car. As if it weren’t embarrassing enough to be a mechanic stranded without a jack, he hadn’t even let her redeem herself by changing her own tire.
She was so tired of men assuming she didn’t know what she was doing.
Truth was she’d just bought those tires. She hadn’t been expecting a flat.
This man was arrogant, pushy, bossy, not to mention far too handsome, and she didn’t want anything to do with him.
“I’m the only one who works with cars,” he said, grinning. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
She was going to protest, but then she looked over at him and felt her eyes distracted, wandering over his body, those huge muscles. She grinned as she thought about the jerks who’d been bothering her, how hard they would shit their pants when they saw what they were up against.
She could resist a good-looking man, and besides, she really should be grateful for what he’d done that night, now that she knew he wasn’t a stalker.
She looked into his eyes, wondering if he recognized her. Given his calm, confident smile, she couldn’t tell. Her eyes were drawn to a bruise at the corner of his lip, as if he’d been punched recently.
It didn’t seem to be bothering him.
“I guess he’ll do,” she said. “What’s the rate?”
“We can discuss that after,” Citrine said.
Slight alarm ran through her. “I don’t have a lot.”
“We’re a new company, just getting started. Just pay us what you think is fair when the job is done, and make sure to give us referrals. Especially to your female friends,” Citrine said.
“Uh…” What the hell did that mean?
“We tend to be hired by women,” Citrine said patiently.
Oh. Duh. She needed to get out of this place and under a car again. These men, especially the redhead with the long, wavy hair and beautiful greenish-blue eyes, were making her too flustered.
She stood abruptly. “Okay. Well then, I guess we’re set.” She nodded at the computer. “You have the address?”
“Yes, I think so,” Citrine said. “Magnus, would you walk her out?”
“No, no,” she said, putting up a hand and backing out before they could stop her. “I’m just fine.” Alone with that giant? Not today, mister. No, she’d see him soon enough, but she’d be at the shop, with people she trusted.
3
The next day, Magnus pulled up to the address of Lindy’s shop, a small, fairly rundown garage with an attached office on the side. Each of the carports had a vehicle in it, and outside, several other vehicles awaited service. Above the large doors hung a sign that read: “Honest Auto Repair.”