First message
Joey was elbow-deep in a car engine when he heard the soft click of the door. He straightened just enough to peek over, and then a slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Well, well… if it isn’t Kiera Malloy,” he said, voice low and teasing, almost mocking. “Look at ye, all neat and proper, like ye just fell out of a girly magazine and into the shop.”