okay with you.â Clumsiness notwithstanding, she didnât want him to think she couldnât handle herself. Her pride had suffered enough in the last twenty-four hours, thank you very much, and he already seemed to think she was some spoiled city girl. It couldnât be rocket science to keep up with a quick look-see under the hood, right?
Shane lifted a dark brow. âSuit yourself.â He stood in front of the car and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans, waiting.
Bellamyâs heart did a repeat swan dive toward her belly. What was he looking at her for? Didnât he know where to start?
âIâm, ah, going to need you to pop the hood so I can look at the car.â
She swallowed her full dose of hi-Iâm-an-idiot in one hard gulp. âOh, right!â
As soon as the car was unlocked and her butt sank into the driverâs seat, Bellamyâs first order of business was to clutch. Come on, she had an advanced degree in business, for Godâs sake! How hard could it be to pop the stupid hood? The knob, or button, or whatever, had to be here somewhere. It had to be . . .
âAha!â Bellamy crowed under her breath, her hand shooting out for the lever marked with the little stick figure lifting the hood. She gave it a triumphant yank, smiling from ear to ear.
âBellamy?â Shaneâs grin wiped the confidence from her face. He put a hand on the door frame, leaning in. âI might be just spit-balling here, but I donât think the problemâs in your trunk.â
If his laugh hadnât been so deep and downright sexy, in that moment sheâd have hated his guts. He and the stick figure could kiss her ass.
âSorry, must have pulled the wrong one,â she glowered, spying the correct lever right next to the trunk release. She gave it a decisive snatch, and the hood lifted up by about an inch.
âMmm,â Shane answered, closing the trunk before going around to look under the hood. Bellamy got out and stood next to him, watching with awe as he moved his hands over the inner workings of the car with both care and purpose. How the hell all of that stuff came together to create a whole bunch of get-up-and-go was totally beyond her.
Finally, she couldnât stand it anymore, though barely five minutes had passed. âHow bad is it?â she asked, chewing her bottom lip.
âGo ahead and try to start it for me.â
âI donât think anythingâs going to happen,â she offered politely, trying to save him from wasting his time. The car had seemed in pretty bad shape when sheâd pulled it over. If the damned thing was going to start up now, after all sheâd just been through, she was going to be pissed .
âYeah, Iâve done this once or twice before. Why donât you humor me and give it a whirl just for grins, city girl.â
Bellamy bit her tongue to trap the rather unladylike voice in her head threatening to tell him exactly where he could shove his princesses and his city girls . The reality was that the garage had been the only thing sheâd seen for miles, and as much as she wanted to tell Shane to pound sand, it looked like the only option that wouldnât get her left by the side of the road was to humor him as heâd asked.
His expression sure suggested he could use it.
âI was only trying to help,â Bellamy muttered under her breath as she put the key in the ignition. Of course the damn thing purred right to life just to spite her.
âOkay, you can cut the engine,â Shane said, crouching down to look under the car.
âSo is it fine?â Bellamy asked, confused. âI really wasnât imagining things,â she insisted, sliding out of the car.
Shaneâs grim expression suggested that he believed her. Bracing one hand against the fender, he reached down and swiped his fingers through a dark puddle of something seeping out from under her car in a