She held the flashlight while he tightened a connection.
Their shoulders touched.
Neither moved away.
“You always stop for stranded strangers?” she asked.
“When they’re alone in a snowstorm.”
“That sounds dangerously heroic.”
“It mostly sounds cold.”
She laughed.
He looked at her.
The laugh seemed to catch him off guard.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You looked.”
“I’m allowed to look.”
Her eyebrow lifted.
“Are you?”
He smiled slightly.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you're going to use that pepper spray.”
The woman laughed again.
“Still undecided.”
He returned to the engine.
She watched him.
There was something strange about how comfortable the conversation felt.
She spent most of her life evaluating people quickly.
Investor.
Employee.
Vendor.
Client.
Journalist.
Competitor.
Everyone entered a category.
The man beside her did not fit one.
He was handsome, certainly.
But that was not the part making her curious.
It was the complete absence of performance.
He did not seem impressed by her SUV.
Her clothes.
The bag she carried.
He had not asked what she did.
He was simply fixing the car because it was broken and she needed help.
“When was the last time you went on a blind date?” she asked.
His hand stopped.
“How do you know I’m going on one?”
“You're wearing a decent shirt under a mechanic jacket and looking annoyed about it.”
He laughed.
“That obvious?”
“Very.”
He tightened something beneath the hood.
“First one.”
“Ever?”
“In a long time.”
She noticed the answer.
Not ever.
“In how long?”
He hesitated.
“Four years.”
The flirtation softened.
“Divorce?”
He shook his head.
“My wife died.”
The woman’s expression changed immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a while ago.”
“That doesn't make it nothing.”
He looked at her then.
Really looked.
“No.”
“It doesn't.”
The snow continued around them.
For several seconds, the road felt quieter.
The woman shifted the flashlight.
“You have children?”
“One daughter.”
“How old?”
“Six.”
He smiled the way parents smiled when a child's name entered the room even when the child was not there.
“She’s the reason I’m going tonight.”
The woman smiled.
“She forced you?”
“Basically.”
“I like her already.”
“You would.”
“How do you know?”
“She likes expensive clothes.”
The woman laughed.
“You think I look expensive?”
He finally looked at her entire outfit.
Slowly.
Her pulse changed.
He met her eyes.
“Yes.”
The answer was simple.
But his tone was not entirely innocent.
The woman stepped a little closer.