Ash was leaning against the workbench, his sleeves shoved up, grease streaked across the muscles of his forearms. The faint scent of motor oil, leather, and something sharper—something that was just him—wrapped around Cordelia, making her pulse skip.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said, voice low and rough, eyes cutting to her with that half-smirk that always felt like it saw too much.
“I’m… just taking it all in,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her heart had been pounding ever since she’d stepped into the compound earlier, but now it wasn’t intimidation—it was something warmer.
Ash’s gaze swept over her slowly, deliberately, like he was cataloging every detail. “And? What’s the verdict?”
She huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. “Intimidating. Loud. But… not ba
