![]() As a kid, I would never have thought that painting cars and parts was what I would end up doing for a living-much less, that I would grow to love it and be pretty damn good at it, if I did say so myself-but life was crazy that way. I was one of the few females I’d ever met who did auto body paint. ![]() He wasn’t the first person to ask me that kind of question. ![]() I’d almost lost my smile then, but I had managed not to. That got me a blink before that deep, raspy voice asked, “What do you know about paint?” He didn’t miss a beat, and those blue-green eyes, which seemed to pop beneath short but super curly black eyelashes, narrowed again. So I smiled even wider when I put my attention back on the man with dark-colored tattoos that went up to his jaw. I couldn’t help but glance at my longtime boss, but that was because he’d asked basically the same thing right before offering me a job when I’d been seventeen. ![]() “You old enough to work here?” he’d asked in what I was pretty sure was the closest thing to a rumbling voice I’d ever heard in person. I hadn’t been prepared for the question that came out of his mouth almost immediately. ![]()
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