Dark work shirt beneath a heavy jacket.
Brown hair already catching snow.
He looked toward her.
"You all right?"
Sophia almost laughed because Claire had, apparently, hidden one relevant detail.
The mechanic was very attractive.
She said:
"That depends. Can you fix cars?"
The man smiled slightly.
"Occasionally."
"Then I'm doing significantly better."
He walked closer but stopped several feet away.
Polite distance.
"You call roadside?"
"Almost two hours."
He looked at sedan.
"What happened?"
"Warning light."
"Steering became heavy."
"Then everything died."
"Any smell?"
"No."
"Noise?"
"Clicking."
He nodded.
"Okay if I look?"
Sophia gestured toward engine.
"Please."
He removed gloves from his pocket.
His hands were rough.
Mechanic hands.
Sophia noticed.
That felt inappropriate considering she was on the way to meet another man.
Then she remembered she had not met that man.
Technical innocence.
The stranger leaned into the engine bay.
Sophia stood beside him.
"What's your name?"
He glanced over.
"Jake."
She froze.
No.
Too easy.
There had to be thousands of Jakes.
Maybe hundreds.
Vermont was not that small.
Sophia smiled.
"Of course it is."
He frowned.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You?"
"Sophia."
This time he froze.
Sophia noticed.
"What?"
Jake straightened slowly.
"Nothing."
She narrowed her eyes.
"That didn't look like nothing."
"Common name."
"Not that common."
Jake wiped one hand against his work pants.
Sophia waited.
He looked toward the road.
Then sedan.
"Let's get you moving."
Interesting.
Sophia decided not to push.
Yet.
Jake returned to his truck for tools.
Sophia watched him walk.
Definitely attractive.
Worse from behind.
She looked away immediately.
"Grow up."
Jake returned carrying a compact light and small tool bag.
"What?"
Sophia's eyes widened.
"Nothing."
"You were talking."
"Phone."
"No phone near your face."
She smiled.
"Do you interrogate every stranded motorist?"
"Only suspicious ones."
"Do I look suspicious?"
Jake's eyes moved over her expensive coat.
Dress.
Boots.
Handbag.
Then back to her face.
"You look cold."
That was smoother than she expected.
She folded her arms.
"Are you always this charming while covered in road salt?"
He smiled.
"No."
"Christmas special."
She laughed.
There.
Natural.
Annoyingly.
Jake crouched beside the front wheel.
"Turn ignition on but don't start."
Sophia climbed inside.
Did as instructed.
Jake checked something.
Then called:
"Off."
She returned.
He removed a lower panel near the wheel well.
Sophia crouched beside him.
Her coat brushed the snow.
Jake noticed.
"You're going to ruin that."
"I own dry cleaning."
"That isn't how fabric works."
"You fix cars. I'll handle coats."
"Fair."
He reached deeper.
Sophia studied his profile.
Strong jaw.
Light beard.
A small scar near eyebrow.
He looked older than thirty-five in a good way.
Tired around the eyes.
She thought about the word widower.
If he was the Jake.
Could he be?