Who Knew My Assigned Mechanic Husband Was a Big Shot? novel Chapter 20

Beatrice glanced down at her chest—she was completely busted.

She sighed theatrically. "Getting old is a tragedy. My hand-eye coordination is ruined. Let's get home so I can change; I refuse to let my new granddaughter-in-law think I'm a slob."

Martha knew lecturing was pointless. Beatrice would sooner die than give up her sugar addiction.

Whatever. She'd just have to tighten security next time.

As the SUV merged into traffic, Martha asked, "So, does she meet your standards?"

"I didn't actually tell her who I was."

"Why all the cloak and dagger?"

"Young people despise it when the older generation meddles in their love lives," Beatrice explained sagely. "They rushed into a blind marriage; if I assert dominance now, it'll ruin the natural progression. We have to let the romance simmer organically.

Oh, speaking of romance! Didn't you say you've been reading those 'marriage of convenience' paperbacks? Give me a list. I need to study the tropes."

"If you want top-tier fake dating to true love, you have to read Diana Quinn. Her stuff is absolute gold."

"Order her entire bibliography immediately."

"..."

*

The weekend arrived.

Sloane slept in until a luxurious 8 AM.

The moment she stepped out of her room, Logan walked through the front door, clearly fresh off a brutal morning run.

He was stripped down to a tight athletic tank top and running shorts.

The thin fabric clung to the aggressive, broad span of his shoulders, while his core looked sharp enough to cut glass. Every single muscle flexed with a raw, predatory power that was intimidating without being grotesque—he looked like a modern-day gladiator.

Catching her stare, he casually walked toward her, wiping a thick layer of sweat off his neck with a white towel.

"Morning," he rumbled.

Sloane's heart completely stalled in her chest.

She had to admit, she had absolutely zero defense against a man built with this kind of lethal physicality.

Especially since she spent every waking hour surrounded by frail, sickly patients.

Now, having this towering wall of absolute, untamed vitality radiating heat right in front of her was completely overwhelming.

"Morning," Sloane managed, her ears burning instantly. She kept her eyes glued to the floor, terrified that if she actually looked at him, her heart would explode out of her ribcage.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify