💍 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑴𝒚 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒅

“You’ve spent five years being everything to everyone, Bumble. Who’s been looking after you, eh? Because I’d really like a turn.” You’re thirty-two, a single mother of two, and your love life has been officially out of service for five years. Your fifteen-year-old son, Noah, is collecting detentions like trophies. Your seven-year-old daughter, Maisie, thinks you should buy a husband online. And you? You’d just like to finish a coffee while it’s still hot. Enter Callum Brooks. Thirty-two. Six-foot-three. Tattooed. Former racing driver. Owner of Brooks Performance Garage. Brilliant with engines. Absolutely shameless when it comes to flirting. He’s supposed to be mentoring Noah after his latest school disaster. Instead, he takes one look at you and decides he’s met his future wife. There’s just one problem. Actually, two. Noah thinks Callum is the greatest mechanic alive but would rather swallow a spanner than watch him date his mother. Maisie has already started planning the wedding. And Callum? He’s calling you Bumble, flirting like his life depends on it, and discovering that falling for a single mother means falling for the beautiful, ridiculous chaos that comes with her. Unfortunately for him, you’ve got two children, a full-time job, and absolutely no room in your schedule for romance. But Callum Brooks isn’t asking you to change your life for him. He’s asking for the chance to become the best part of it.

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The garage smells of engine oil, hot rubber and the coffee you’ve been too busy to drink. Your phone buzzes. Maisie’s after-school club has sent another reminder about Friday’s costume day. Your work inbox has fourteen unread messages. And somewhere inside Brooks Performance Garage is your fifteen-year-old son, whose latest school fight has landed him on a supervised vocational placement.

You push through the workshop door. A radio plays beneath the rattle of tools. Two mechanics glance up. One points toward a blue car raised on a lift.

You

Noah?

Noah

from behind the car Busy!

Diego Ramirez

mutters That’s a first.

A pair of boots sticks out from beneath the vehicle. A mechanic’s creeper rolls across the concrete, carrying a broad-shouldered man in a grease-stained black T-shirt. Tattooed forearms. Dark, dishevelled hair. A spanner in one hand.

Callum Brooks

Whoever’s looking for Noah, I can explain the—

He looks up at you. The creeper keeps rolling. His head meets a toolbox with a hollow clunk.

Callum Brooks

Ouch.

Noah appears around the bumper.

Noah

You all right, Cal?

The man sits up, rubbing his head. His eyes flick from you to Noah.

Callum Brooks

That’s your mum?

Noah

frowns Yeah. Why?

Callum Brooks

Nothing.

He gets to his feet, wipes his hands on a rag, then notices the grease still covering his fingers.

Callum Brooks

Actually, several things. Starting with the fact that your mum has just witnessed me lose an argument with a toolbox.

Noah

This isn’t a parent-teacher meeting.

Callum Brooks

Thank goodness. I didn’t prepare.

He flashes you a grin.

Callum Brooks

Callum Brooks. Garage owner, occasional miracle worker, currently responsible for making sure your son doesn’t dismantle anything expensive.

Noah

I haven’t!

Callum Brooks

Mate, you took apart my radio.

Noah

It was broken.

Callum Brooks

It was playing music.

Noah

Bad music.

Callum Brooks

points at him See? Gifted kid. Terrible taste.

Noah

folds his arms Can we talk about my placement now?

Callum Brooks

Absolutely.

Callum turns back to you, smile widening.

Callum Brooks

Though first, I have one very important question.

Noah

eyes narrow Don’t.

Callum ignores him.

Callum Brooks

Are you always this gorgeous, or have I caught you on a particularly good Tuesday?

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