Chapter 281


    Chapter 281 Fast Cars & Slow Smiles


    E


    “A broken furnace? Isn’t this a servant’s job?”


    As soon as the words slipped out of my mouth, I felt my eyes widened. “E!” my wolf growled,


    annoyed by my words. “That’s rude! Why did you say that?”


    Truthfully, I didn’t know why I said it. It just… slipped out. Surprise, maybe?


    “I-I’m sorry,” I said aloud, swallowing. “That was rude. I just meant that I’m shocked to see you working


    on a furnace, that’s all.”


    My words were met with a chuckle from the other man who was working with Logan. The servant, a


    man of about fifty with grizzled hair and weathered hands, looked up at me from where he kneeled on


    the floor next to the furnace and winked.


    “None taken, Miss. I know it’s shocking for a man of Mr. Logan’s status, but believe it or not, we work


    on all kinds of stuff together,” the servant exined, his voice full of pride. “Mr. Logan here is so good


    with his cars, it allows him to fix all manner of things. We’re all happy to have him for a boss ’cause he


    helps out with difficult tasks like this when he’s able.”


    “Cars?” I asked, my interest piqued. Logan nodded, and a yful glint appeared in his eyes. “Yes, cars.


    I’m good with mechanical stuff. You might find it surprising, but I love getting my hands dirty. Come on,


    follow me.”


    He gestured for me to follow him, and I did, still feeling slightly dazed. As we walked through the


    expansive mansion, I couldn’t shake off the astonishment I felt. The Logan who stood before me,


    hands covered in grease and shirt stained with sweat, was far from the suave, sophisticated man I had


    previously known.


    He led me to a huge garage, itsrge doors sliding open to reveal yet another secret about him that I


    hadn’t expected.


    The garage that Logan had revealed was far from a simple storage space for vehicles. It was a


    meticulously organized temple of automotive beauty and mechanical prowess.


    As I stepped further inside, my eyes widened into saucers. I couldn’t help but feel like I had entered into


    Logan’s secret sanctuary. Almost instantly, my senses were assaulted by the smell of gasoline and


    rubber, but it was a good smell. Pleasantly intoxicating.


    The first thing that really struck me, though, was the sheer size of it. It was more akin to a professional


    showroom than a personal garage. Polished concrete floors reflected the overhead lighting, casting a


    warm glow that danced across the surface of the vehicles.


    Each car, whether a luxurious sports model or a ssic vintage piece, was positioned with deliberate


    care, allowing ample room to admire them from every angle.


    Along the far wall, a collection of tools and mechanical equipment was arranged with almost surgical


    precision.


    Wrenches, screwdrivers, and specialized automotive instruments were hung in clear view, ready to be


    used at a moment’s notice. There were workbenches cluttered with engine parts, sketches, and


    manuals.


    And then in another corner of the garage, I noticed a small lounge area with leather chairs, framed


    photographs of racing moments, and shelves lined with trophies and medals.


    Clearly, this space served not only as a ce for work but also for rxation and reflection. I could


    almost envision Logan and his friends or fellow enthusiasts gathering here to discuss theirtest


    projects or just to share their passion for cars.


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    “These are all yours?” I asked, slowly walking down the row of cars.


    “Yep,” Logan said, using a clean part of the hem of his shirt to wipe a smudge off of one of the car


    hoods. “Years and years of saving my money led to this. That one down there was my very first car.”


    I followed his gaze to a sleek red car. I knew nothing about cars, but it looked vintage. And fast. I


    wandered over to it, my eyes taking in the cream-colored leather interior and the hood that was so


    shiny I could see myself in it like a mirror.


    I could see that Logan had a hands-on rtionship with these cars. He didn’t just drive them, he


    understood them. He tinkered with them, improved them, and made them a part of his life.


    “This is a hobby of mine,” Logan said, his voice tinged with passion. “I love working on them, tweaking,


    modifying, and of course, driving them. I like to drive fast.”


    He smirked, that cocky grin that I had seen so many times before. “I could take you out in one of my


    fastest cars and show you a good time,” he said, his voice dripping with sweetness like honey.


    I blinked at him with wide eyes, my mind still grappling with this new side of Logan that had been


    unveiled. The cars, the machinery, the hands-on approach – it was all so unexpected.


    And, although I never would admit it, it attracted me. My wolf was practically begging for me to get dirty


    right along with him amongst all of these cars. It took everything in my power to hold her back.


    Then he saw the contract in my hand, and his expression changed. “I almost forgot,” he said, taking it


    from me and quickly signing it, the pen leaving a trail of grease from his hands on the paper.


    I gingerly took it back, a strange mix of relief and embarrassment washing over me. I had been so


    distrusting, so ready to believe the worst, and yet here was Logan, proving me wrong in every way. I


    tucked the contract into my satchel, still feeling a bit silly.


    “Thank you,” I managed to say, my voice sincere. He nodded, watching me closely. “You’re wee,


    E. I’m happy to do whatever it takes to make sure you feel safe andfortable as we navigate this


    arrangement of ours.”


    I looked around the garage, my eyes drawn once more to Logan’s first car. It looked like a beast waiting


    to be unleashed, and I could feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of experiencing its power.


    “What’s wrong?” Logan asked, cocking his head. “You look like you saw a ghost.”


    I shook my head, patting the side of my satchel. “Nothing. Thanks for signing the contract. I’ll make


    copies and you can have one.”


    “No need.” Logan leaned back on the hood of one of the red race cars and folded his arms across his


    chest, revealing once more how his biceps bulged and strained against the sleeves of his dirty t-shirt.


    Even from where I stood, he smelled like sweat and oil. I felt my face getting hot once again, and I


    quickly looked away.


    “Um… Alright, then,” I said somewhat awkwardly, turning toward a little door that looked like it led to the


    outside. “See youter. Your case should be all set soon, so…”


    “Sure thing, E,” Logan said, ever the picture of perfect poise and rxation. I was about to leave, my


    head still spinning with all that I had learned and seen, when his words stopped me in my tracks.


    “Wait! What about that ride?” he called after me, that teasing smile ying on his lips again as I turned


    back to face him.