A Perfectly Imperfect Match (Matchmaking Mamas) by Marie Ferrarella Page B

we have a problem.”
    Elizabeth moved so that she was right next to him. Since he was staring at the battery, she looked down at it, too. “What’s wrong?”
    “I need tools to get the battery uncoupled and out,” he told her. “Tools I don’t have and forgot to pick up when we went to get the battery.”
    “Tools?” She moved back to her trunk. “You mean like these?” she asked, pulling a small tool box out of her trunk.
    Bringing the box over to Jared, she popped open the lid and displayed a variety of tools intended just for the inner workings of a car.
    “Exactly like these,” he said, impressed. Those were not exactly considered to be standard accessories for a woman. “Why do you have tools like that in your trunk?”
    “My dad insisted I carry these at all times, along with my jumper cables. I’ve had trouble with my car before, and he thought all this might come in handy someday.” She grinned. “I guess this qualifies as ‘someday.’” She handed the tool box over to Jared. “My dad said that I was better off driving around with them and never having to use a single one than not having them and suddenly finding myself in a real bind.”
    Jared heartily agreed with that philosophy. “Smart man, your father.”
    Nothing made her happier than hearing someone praise her dad. To her way of thinking, her father didn’t get nearly as much praise as he deserved.
    “That’s what he’s always telling me,” she answered with a laugh.
    Then, as she watched, Jared took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, displaying some very admirable forearms in the process.
    Forearms that strained appealingly as he finally lifted the old battery out and set it on the ground beside the one she had just purchased.
    As she continued to watch him with deliberately hooded eyes, Elizabeth began to think that maybe her battery picking this particular time to die wasn’t really such a bad thing after all.

Chapter Five
    T he entire procedure of exchanging one battery for another and then hooking it up seemed to take a remarkably short amount of time. In Elizabeth’s estimation, the trip to the shop to purchase the new battery had taken longer than the actual removal of the old battery and the installation of the new one.
    When Jared announced he was “done,” Elizabeth could only stare at him.
    “Go ahead, try it,” he urged, waving her back behind the wheel of her vehicle.
    Skeptical, Elizabeth got in and turned the key in the ignition. The smooth, soothing sound of her engine coming to life and obligingly turning over was absolutely wonderful.
    “You did it,” she cried in relief. Up until now, she had been more or less certain that she was going to have to call a towing service.
    With a nod, Jared triumphantly declared, “And we have lift off,” as he wiped the smudges of oil and dirt from his hands.
    “I don’t know how to thank you,” she exalted, leaving her engine running—just in case. It was, without a doubt, a truly beautiful sound.
    Belatedly, Jared realized that the handkerchief he’d pulled out of his pocket—part of a set his mother had gifted him with, saying a gentleman never knew when he might just need a handkerchief—was probably ruined. The oil looked pretty permanent to him.
    “Just play as well for my parents at their party as you did today in the studio, and that’ll be thanks enough,” he replied.
    Elizabeth waved his suggestion away. The two weren’t even in the same realm.
    “That was already a given before you rode to my rescue.” And then she looked down at the front of his shirt. Because of the darkness, she hadn’t noticed it before. She did now. There were several streaks of what appeared to be grease on it. “Well, for starters,” she told him, “I can have your shirt cleaned for you, or pay for your cleaning bill if you have a favorite cleaners you use.”
    He looked down at his shirt, spotting the dark streaks across the front. He didn’t even remember