![]() ![]() I was one of the few females I’d ever met who did auto body paint. He wasn’t the first person to ask me that kind of question. I’d almost lost my smile then, but I had managed not to. That got me a blink before that deep, raspy voice asked, “What do you know about paint?” He didn’t miss a beat, and those blue-green eyes, which seemed to pop beneath short but super curly black eyelashes, narrowed again. ![]() ![]() So I smiled even wider when I put my attention back on the man with dark-colored tattoos that went up to his jaw. I couldn’t help but glance at my longtime boss, but that was because he’d asked basically the same thing right before offering me a job when I’d been seventeen. “You old enough to work here?” he’d asked in what I was pretty sure was the closest thing to a rumbling voice I’d ever heard in person. I hadn’t been prepared for the question that came out of his mouth almost immediately. ![]()
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