…the mechanic shook out a rag

and laid it on the floor. Then, like a mother laying a baby in its crib, he gently placed a part from the engine on it. Finally, he straightened and started around the other side of the lift. As he took off the ball cap, a black ponytail fell over one shoulder. Replacing the cap with the bill facing forward, the mechanic turned and unzipped the grease-stained coveralls.

“Hi.” Sloan offered a smile. “I hope you can help me. I’m looking for—” The words stuck in his throat as he stared.

The mechanic wasn’t a man. He—no, she was Allison Richards. And she was safe.

The look on her face mirrored his own shock. He hadn’t expected to find her so quickly, and certainly not fixing engines in a garage.

That wasn’t his only surprise. Instead of the oversized white lab coat that was her uniform at Northstar’s lab, she wore faded denim coveralls that hung baggily off her shoulders. But it was what was under the unzipped coveralls that showed off attributes he hadn’t realized she owned.