I waited in the driver’s seat until the headlights of his pickup flashed over me. He parked on the side with the flat and hopped out at the same time I climbed out.

God, he looked good. It was winter, but his coat was probably draped over the back seat. He shrugged out of his suit coat and my mouth went dry. His pewter dress shirt shone under the parking lot light. He loosened his tie and tore it off all the way, tossing it with his suit jacket into the back seat. It shouldn’t be possible for the flex of his muscles to be visible in the dark.

He scrutinized the tire as he wedged his hands into a black pair of gloves, his dark gaze sweeping over the tools I left out. “Did you try the portable air compressor?”

I bit the inside of my lip. “No, sorry. I totally forgot about it.” He’d given me one after we started dating and I’d never had to use it. It was tucked away in the winter kit in my trunk.

His gaze popped up. “No reason to be sorry. Do you want to wait in the pickup?”

The pickup that smelled like him? Almond and anise over a clean soap smell? Simple and uncomplicated, like I had thought he was. Three nights in a hotel room had been hell on my hormones. My car was warm enough. “I can help.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. Not many would realize it was his smile. “Sure. Pop the trunk?”

I did and he dug out the portable air compressor. He plugged one end in the car and stretched around to hook on the nozzle.

The rhythmic cycling of the tiny motor filled the parking lot, but it was getting late and not many people were milling around. None of them bothered more than a glance toward us. All they saw was a damsel in distress and a hot knight who’d ridden in on his mighty steed.

“Were you at work?” I asked.

“No reason to be anywhere else,” he said simply.

I chewed my lower lip to redirect the sting of pain his comment caused. He hadn’t meant it as a barb about how I’d left him, but then again, I hadn’t been enough to lure him away from work when we had been together either.

A few more minutes passed with us staring at the still-flat tire.

“I don’t think it’s going to hold air,” he said. “I’ll put the spare on.”