Sunlight streamed through the open garage door as Valentina passed Duke a wrench. She sat cross-legged on a clean shop towel, watching as he bent over her Sportster’s engine.
“Hand me the 10mm socket,” he said, not looking up from his work.
Valentina glanced at the assortment of tools spread before her, selecting the right one with growing confidence. Two weeks into rebuilding her bike, and she was learning fast.
“So the previous owner really never changed the oil?” she asked, leaning closer to see what Duke was doing.
“Not from the look of it.” Duke grimaced, hands black with grime. “Criminal, treating a bike this way.”
Valentina smiled at his outrage. Duke treated motorcycles like living things, deserving of care and respect. It was one of the many things she’d rediscovered about hi
