Page 3 of Scrap Metal & Love Reforged

“Troy MacCarthy,” I said.

“LikeHigh School Musical?”

Right. Like I hadn’t heardthatone before.

“My dad was really into Homer,” I said.

“More people should be into Homer,” Seth said flippantly. “He’s the more tolerable of things the teachers made us read in high school.”

Seth wandered along the counter, pausing occasionally to tilt his head and survey some of the pictures hanging on the wall. Janet exchanged an awkward look with me. We’d never really had someone come in and just stand around looking the place over, like automotive window shopping—minus thewindows.

If Seth needed someone to work on bikes, I could sure do that. Actually, I was the best qualified in the shop when it came to motorcycles. I glanced at the beautiful bike parked outside.

“That was a nice bike you rode in on,” I said, trying to sound casual.

Seth tore his gaze away from a picture of Arthur proudly standing before a cherry-red Ferrari. It wasn’t even Arthur’s car, but he liked to brag to customers that it was. After all, it wasn’t like most people in Bluehaven drove cars like that. Maybe some rich guys in the financial district, but they never came into a little shop like ours.

But if thatwasa Cosmic Starship, why wasSethhere?

“It’s new,” he said, his hazel eyes brightening. “Did you want to see her up-close?”

“Sure,” I replied, my voice belying my enthusiasm.

It wasn’t like I had anything better to do.

I followed Seth from the shop. He came to stop proudly beside his bike and grinned at me. It was even more beautiful up-close. I let out a low whistle. My hands ached to touch the curves of the metal. I had a wild, sudden impulse to ask if I could ride it, even though I knew that was inappropriate. A fireable offense, even.

“I used to call her Isis, after the goddess of life, because I was going through an Egyptology phase when I bought her,” Seth said, “But obviously, that name didn’t age very well.”

No kidding.

“So now, she’s Debbie.”

“Do you know what it is?” Seth asked. “I don’t imagine you have many of these come through.”

“We don’t,” I replied. “Lots of Harleys, but you’re the first Cosmic Starship.”

Seth smirked. “You recognized it?”

“I’m not anamateur,” I replied.

“I don’t recall saying you were,” Seth said. “I just want to be sure I’m leaving my babies with someone responsible. That’s all.”

“I’d treat your bikes like I’d treat my own,” I replied.

And letting anything happen to a bike likethatwas unthinkable. I knew this bike was probably worth at least a million bucks. What the Hell did hedo? Probably a trust fund baby, wealthy parents. But why was he here, at a tiny shop like ours, when he could probably hire his own crew of mechanics to up-keep his vehicles?

“What kind of bike do you have?”

Nothing nearly as impressive as his.

“A Kawasaki Ninja,” I admitted, pointing.

Seth followed the gesture and slowly sauntered over to my bike. I felt a hot flood of embarrassment and wondered if Seth was going to scoff at my poor bike. It was sleek and dark blue with scratches along the finish. My poor bike had suffered a few door dings before I’d even gotten it. But she drove well. My bike was dependable, and that was what I needed. It didn’t matter if she was pretty.

But would this affect Seth’s opinion of me? Sure, he would be bringing in his bikes for mechanical problems, rather than body work, butstill.

“Well,” Seth finally said, “I’ll be in touch.”