The muscles in my neck ease from their tension knot at the same time as my heart races. His voice takes a soft yet authoritative tone. I would never, ever admit this out loud, but that tone is killer—sexy, even. It’s the perfect balance of commanding yet polite. I bet he could compel a fish to walk if he spoke in that tone. If he had used it when we first met, I would have been a lot more receptive to whatever he had to say.

I’m tempted to ask why again, but that would be risking my luck. This is a second chance to solve my problem with minimal fuss. I had better take it.

I stay silent and stand to the side, watching while he darts in his back seat to grab jumper cables. He doesn’t ask me to help him as he sets everything up between our two cars or when he sits back in his vehicle and starts the engine. I don’t offer either. I simply stand back, lean on my driver’s side door, and watch him work. No matter how artificial this gesture is, I need it. And Callum knows it.

I cross my arms over my chest, momentarily self-conscious, wondering if he can smell my desperation. It’s obvious judging by how quickly he picked up on my financial situation at the vet’s office that he’s been paying attention while we’ve been working in such close proximity. For one or two days a week it’s just me at the food truck, because even though I’m a stickler on Mom’s days off, we can’t afford to hire anyone else, not even part-time. Our truck squeaks to a halt every time we pull up to our spot on Makena, a signal that we’re in desperate need of new brake pads. The exterior is dingy on a good day. The white paint is peeling off, the painted-on images are fading, and there are dings and scratches galore.

I glance down at my outfit. A blue T-shirt dress that I’ve had for years. Not at all dumpy—more like well loved. And I wear it once a week, which means Callum has seen me in it many times before.

I’m flushed with embarrassment yet again. I’m like a humpback whale, but instead of a sonar distress call, my cry for help is my worn clothing and the rickety state of my belongings.