Page 6 of If Love Had A Manual (Skeptically In Love #2)

T he underbelly of an old Chevy isn’t the most exciting thing to stare at first thing in the morning, but it keeps my mind off Rosie.

At least until a pair of worn-out work boots step into my eyeline.

I pause, gripping my wrench.

“You actually did it?”

I let out a long exhale, already recognizing the voice dripping with judgment.

I’m not in the mood for this shit today.

Sliding out from under the car, I squint up at Connor. He’s mid-thirties and built like a linebacker.

With a groan, I push onto my feet. “Did what?”

He folds his arms across his chest and looks at me, dead serious. “You left our girl with a stranger.”

“Lena’s not a stranger.”

“Right, because you’ve known her for, what, a week?”

“It’s for the best,” a voice calls from the other side of the shop .

I glance over to see Ryan leaning against a tool cart, watching the exchange with an infuriatingly smug expression. Ryan’s the youngest of the crew. Twenty-four, quick-witted, and always looking to stir shit up.

“Rosie’s one. She could get into all kinds of danger here,” Ryan continues, tapping a wrench against his palm.

Connor is almost offended. “As if we would let her get hurt.”

“No one’s saying we would.”

“Then what are you saying, exactly?”

“That maybe,” Ryan says slowly, “Wes finally grew a pair and realized kids shouldn’t be playing in a damn auto shop.”

Connor flips him off. “Screw you, Torres.”

My eyes volley between them before Connor turns his attention back on me.

“She’s good with Rosie,” I say before he can berate me anymore. “She came by almost every day last week so they could get to know each other. She has a degree in childcare.”

Why the fuck am I arguing with this bear?

“A degree in childcare? Sounds fake.”

“It’s not fake.”

“Is she hot?” Ryan shouts over.

I glare at him because of course he’d ask that. He thinks with his cock. “Jesus Christ.”

Ryan’s stupid grin only widens. “That’s a yes.”

“That’s a shut the hell up,” I warn him, heading toward the workbench.

Connor smirks, joining the taunting because I can never get a minute's peace in this place. “That’s definitely a yes.”

“That means get back to work. ”

“You mean the work you keep abandoning to go check your phone for an update on Rosie?”

I freeze, hand hovering over the phone I was about to grab.

Before I can tell them exactly where they can shove it, another voice chimes in.

“Alright, enough harassing the boss,”

We all turn as Kate strides into the shop, long blonde braid swinging behind her.

Kate is the real boss around here. Sure, I own the place. But Kate? She runs it. She’s been my right hand since day one, and she takes absolutely zero of our bullshit.

She narrows her eyes at Ryan. “You touching my tools, Torres?”

“Just admiring them, sweetheart.”

“You so much as breathe on them the wrong way, I’ll make you regret it.”

Ryan laughs, lifting his hands. “Damn, Kate. A guy flirts with you, and you threaten his life? No wonder your husband likes you so much.”

“My husband likes me because I know how to use a torque wrench better than any of you idiots.”

“And yet,” Ryan muses, “he still does all the oil changes on your car.”

Kate grabs a rag off the workbench and throws it at his face. “Don’t you have a carburetor to fix?”

He catches it and tosses it aside with a grin. “I do, but this is more fun.”

She gives one last death stare to Ryan before turning to me. “Lena’s officially on duty?”

“Started this morning.”

“And you’re here instead of at home hovering over her? ”

“I’m here,” I reply flatly.

Kate tilts her head. “Uh-huh. So if I were to tell you that your phone just buzzed, you wouldn’t go running to check it?”

I force myself not to look.

“Relax. If something were wrong, she’d call, not text. Lena seems competent enough.”

“She does,” Ryan agrees. Then, after a beat, “But is she hot, though?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groan, rubbing a hand down my face.

“Speaking of work.” Kate flips open her clipboard. “I need you to sign off on the parts order before lunchtime.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. Ryan isn’t allowed to order Friday pizza again. Ever.”

“What the hell did you do, Torres?”

He rolls his eyes like a petulant child. “Just took a little creative liberty with the toppings.”

Connor gags. “He ordered anchovies, pineapple, and—swear to God—mushrooms.”

“It was an artistic choice.”

I close my eyes and pray for patience because this place is going to send me to an early grave. “For the love of God, just stick to normal toppings next time.”

Kate grumbles something under her breath before getting back to business. “Anyway, we’ve got the pickup coming in at noon, and the brakes on the Chevy need replacing before Friday.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Good. And Wes?”

I look up. “Yeah?”

Kate smirks. “Go check your phone before you combust.”

I glare.

Connor laughs.

Ryan tosses me a greasy rag. “For the sweat, boss. You’re looking a little anxious.”

I grab the rag and throw it back at his face.

Welcome to Turner’s Auto, where the boss has less authority than the crew, the crew has zero filter, and apparently, I can’t hide anything from them. Least of all, how badly I want to keep an eye on Rosie, even from a distance.

She’s my niece, and she’s my whole damn world. They can joke about it all they want. I’m still checking my phone.

And yeah, maybe I’ll try to hold my breath until lunch before I text Lena. Or, you know…ten seconds.