The Mustang gave one last pathetic sputter, then went dead silent on the empty stretch of road. Sunset had already bled into deep purple, and the only light came from distant headlights that never slowed. Lena cursed under her breath, popped the hood, and stared at the engine like it might apologize. Nothing. Just heat rising off the metal and the faint smell of burnt oil.
She shoved the car into neutral and pushed. Sweat immediately glued her sundress to her back. The yellow cotton was already too short for pushing a two-ton beast, but she didn’t care. By the time she rolled into the gravel lot of Jax Auto, her thighs were burning and the hem had ridden high enough to show the lace edge of her panties.
The garage looked like it hadn’t seen a broom in years—oil stains on the concrete, st
