Where the spirit meets the bone. (Book 1 of the Illicit Affairs Series)

Chapter I

You were far more similar to your father than you would care to admit. Both of you were trained to keep the appearances up in public, but had filthy mouths behind closed doors. So, when your car stopped in the middle of a deserted alleyway in Brooklyn and no amount of hitting the steering wheel managed to bring it back to life, you couldn't hold back the profanities slipping out of your mouth.

"Jesus mother fucking Christ!" you muttered, giving up and stepping out of the driver's door. You reached for your phone in your purse and pressed on one of the numbers in your contact list. "Stark Industries, Mr. Stark's office, this is Tonia speaking. How may I help you?" a familiar voice responded after a few rings. "Hey, Tonia, I'm Y/n, could you transfer me to dad's office?" you sighed, rubbing your left hand on your eyes. "Absolutely, miss." you heard, followed by a beep. "Honey, why did you call my office?" your father asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of shuffling papers. "You mean to tell me that if I called on your personal phone you would have answered instead of Tonia? Give the poor girl a break, dad." you huffed. "Fine." he muttered, "Did you just want to wish me good luck on my meeting or what? 'Cause I don't have that much time." Not surprising, you thought. As much as you loved your father, he wasn't the most present parent. "My car just gave up on me in the middle of Brooklyn. Send help?" you said, crossing your fingers. "Honey, I'm so sorry, Rhodey has to come to the meeting with me to, you should call someone." he replied, crushing your hopes. Your uncle Jim was a mechanical engineer and had looked after your car since your dad bought it for you on your sixteenth birthday. "Yeah, I will. Thanks, dad. Good luck." you sighed and hung up. You really didn't want some stranger putting their hands on your baby, and it would definitely take a while for anyone to get there and help. Not to mention, you probably weren't supposed to enter this alley with a car. You kicked at one of the wheels, only hurting your foot and growing more frustrated. The roar of an engine behind you startled you, making you turn around.

Sat on top of a magnificent bike was a tall man taking off his helmet. Long chestnut hair grazed his broad shoulders, covered by a red henley shirt that looked barely able to fit all of his chest. Your gaze dropped to his jeans clad thighs and continued down to his black combat boots, now on the ground on either side of the bike. You felt a shiver running down your spine. "I wouldn't be kicking that beauty if it were mine." he said, getting off the bike and causing your eyes to focus on his face. If his dimpled chin wasn't enough for your mouth to salivate, those blue eyes certainly had you drooling. When he raised an eyebrow, you cleared your throat, willing yourself to act unphased. "Well, this beauty just died on me on my way to class." you sighed.

"Why were you in an alley in the first place?" he asked, smirking and crossing his arms in front of his chest. His sleeves had rolled up a bit, showing you his hairy forearms and making your knees weak. "I took a wrong turn, I was trying to turn back around," you mumbled, mimicking his pose and probably looking far less intimidating before going on, "you gonna help or just stare?". His eyes racked up and down your body and he grinned. "I wouldn't mind just staring, but you're lucky." he said after a few moments, then he continued, "My shop ain't far, let me take a look at it." You stalled for a moment, unsure of what to do. Sure, he was a stranger, but you probably would've ended up in his shop anyway. After a bit, you nodded and he slipped his phone out of his pocket. "Stevie, we got a Bentley Continental here you gotta pick up." he said to the man on the other side of the call. "Christ, Buck," you could hear, "a fuckin' Bentley? Send me the location!". The man hung up and looked up at your confused face.

"What kinda name is Buck?" you asked.

"Short for Bucky."

"And that's supposed to be better?"

He huffed out a laugh. "'s a nickname. My name's James." he said, holding out a hand. "Y/n." you replied, shaking it briefly. "Pretty name." he said, stepping closer to you. "Can't say the same." you smirked, causing him to smile and shake his head. Just as he was about to open his mouth and quip back, a loud honk interrupted him. A tow truck made its way towards you. In a few minutes, your car was hooked to it and James gestured you to follow him toward the passenger's door. "That's Steve." he gestured to the blond behind the wheel who was now waving at you while his friend opened the door. You slipped in the middle of the seat and Bucky followed behind you. "Hi, Steve. " you said awkwardly. If you had known you would end up in the middle of two giant men you would've worn something more comfortable. Your tight jeans and expensive shoes were killing you. Before Steve could open his mouth Bucky fixed him a look. "The drive's short." he mumbled.

A few minutes later the truck stopped in front of the shop. The sign read "Barnes & Rogers Garage" in block letters. As soon as you stepped out of the truck, the smell of gasoline hit your nostrils and you stepped inside. The place didn't look too sketchy. The walls, painted hot red, were barely visible under all of the posters hung up there, most of them depicting cars, half naked women or both. Most of the people there were working on cars, while a group of guys was on their lunch break on the other side of the large room. "Make yourself comfortable while I check what's wrong." Bucky said, pointing you to a worn-down couch.

For the next few minutes, you sat there. As soon as Bucky told you your oil pump had to be changed and stripped off his henley to reveal the white tank top underneath it, you decided to stay and watch him work. You had a boyfriend and stuff to do, but those biceps were just irresistible. Bucky's little show earned him a scolding look from Steve. "Heathen." he muttered, shaking his head. "Got her to stay, didn't I?" he grinned. 

An hour or so later, your car was as good as new. "Next time you hear any weird noise, you call me." Bucky said, holding out a card and flashing you a smile. "Thanks," you said, taking the card and reaching for your wallet in your purse, "how much do I owe you?". The man shook his head. "Nothing, doll. A gentleman doesn't let his lady spend a dime." he replied. "Well, you ain't a gentleman and I sure as hell ain't your lady." you huffed and pulled out your wallet. "I'm serious, honey." he said, taking the hand you were holding your wallet in to lead it back towards your purse, "This one's on me." You raised an eyebrow. "This one?" you asked. "I'm sure you'll be back for more." he grinned.