"Pass me that socket wrench," Valentina said, hand extended without looking up from the Sportster's engine.
Duke obliged, watching as she tightened a bolt with practiced ease. Three months after returning from California, and she'd transformed—not just in her growing mechanical skills, but in something more fundamental. A confidence, a centeredness, as if she'd finally settled into her own skin.
"Getting good at that," he commented, leaning against the workbench. "Couple more weeks, you won't need me at all."
Valentina glanced up, a smudge of grease on her cheek. "Maybe that's the point. To not need you." Her smile softened the words. "But I'll always want you around."
The distinction meant everything. Duke had watched her rebuild herself alongside the motorcycle—parts removed, examine
