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Jo watched her for a beat, something soft flickering in her eyes that Evelyn couldn’t quite read. “Makes sense to me,” she finally said with a smile, the playfulness coming back. “I think if anyone can save the planet, it’s you.”

Evelyn smiled, heart flipping over. “What about you?” she asked, nudging Jo’s knee with hers. “How did you go from almost-accountant to badass mechanic?”

“There’s not much to the story,” Jo said with a shrug. “My parents are both CPAs and pushed me toward it. They thought I should have a good, stable job. Something with a salary, benefits, and a 401(k). Exactly like they did.” She snorted a laugh. “Turns out I’d rather get grease under my nails and fix things with my hands.”

“You do it well,” Evelyn said softly.

Setting aside her empty plate, Jo turned her head, putting their faces much closer. “Yeah?” she asked, voice dropping.

“Yeah,” Evelyn whispered. For a beat, neither of them moved.

Then Jo took Evelyn’s empty plate and set it down carefully, before leaning in. “Come here,” she murmured, and Evelyn did without hesitation, their lips meeting in a kiss. Jo’s hand slid into Evelyn’s hair, tilting her head to kiss her harder, and Evelyn moaned softly against her mouth. Jo pulled back, her eyes darkened. “Did you plan to sleep on the couch tonight?”

Feeling her body responding to Jo in every way, Evelyn shook her head. “No,” she replied. “I wasn’t planning to.”

With a low growl of approval, Jo scooped her up effortlessly, making Evelyn squeal and laugh as she wrapped her arms around Jo’s neck. “You’re always the hero,” Evelyn said, smiling.

“Yep,” Jo said, carrying her toward the bedroom. “And you love it.” Evelyn didn’t argue.

Seventeen

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, Jo held a coffee mug. Evelyn was still curled under the covers of Jo’s bed, her blonde hair a soft tumble across the pillow, one arm flung lazily over her head. Jo couldn’t help but smile. She looked almost too perfect to disturb, but she knew that they had things to do today, so she cleared her throat softly and stepped forward. “Evelyn,” she said, her voice gentle. “I brought you something.”

Evelyn stirred, blinking her eyes open as she rolled toward the sound. When she saw Jo standing there, her face lit up with a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” she murmured, voice still husky from sleep. “Is that for me?”

Jo nodded and held out the mug. “It’s a latte. Sort of. I tried to make it like the one you ordered the other day,” she said. “I mean, I don’t have oat milk or a real milk frother, but...” She shrugged as Evelyn sat, pulling the sheet with her, and took the mug carefully.

“Thank you,” Evelyn said. She took a sip, then paused, her eyes widening slightly. “Jo. This is actually really good.”

“Really?” Jo said, more than a little surprised.

Nodding, Evelyn smiled behind the rim of the mug. “You could’ve fooled me,” she said. “And I thought you only knew how to make black coffee that could melt steel.”

“Hey, I’m full of surprises,” Jo said with a grin.

Taking another sip, Evelyn leaned her back against the headboard, the mug cradled in her hands. “Mmm. I needed this,” she said. “I’m exhausted.”

With a wide smile, Jo tilted her head. “Gee, I wonder why.”

Evelyn blushed. “Is that what you think?”

“Don’t you?”

Turning even pinker, Evelyn hid her face behind the mug for a moment, then laughed. “I do think so.”

Crossing her arms, Jo leaned against the doorframe. “Funny, but you didn’t seem tired last night,” she said, voice low and teasing.

Meeting her gaze, Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Neither did you.”

Jo chuckled, and for a moment the room was filled with a comfortable, easy silence. She watched Evelyn sip her latte and felt a sort of happiness that she wasn’t used to, but she realized she really liked it.

Suddenly, the words were on her tongue before she could think herself out of it. “So, uh,” Jo started, trying to sound casual. “I was wondering if you might want to come with me to something today.”

“Oh?” Evelyn said, looking up from her latte.

“It’s nothing big,” Jo said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Just a little barbecue. Mr. Diaz is throwing it for his son’s birthday. Rosa’s cooking. There’ll be burgers, beer, probably too much potato salad.”

“Mr. Diaz?” Evelyn asked. “The man I met at your garage?”