He stared at her as though she was an escapee from the home for the criminally insane. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you think I'll stand here and let you jump me-"

"Your car. I'll use my jumper cables to jump-start your car."

Melanie felt her face flush with embarrassment. "Oh. Right. I knew that."

He muttered again and shook his head. "I'll just pop the hood." He slid across the seat, got one leg out of the car and stopped. Melanie stared down at him and waited. He jerked forward a few times but didn't move.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He looked up at her with an unreadable expression. "You said something about broken springs in the seat?"

Melanie nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"It seems my pants are… snagged."

"Snagged?"

"I'm stuck."

"What do you mean?"

He sent her a potent glare. "Which word are you having trouble with-I'm or stuck?"

"Sheesh. There's no need to be sarcastic."

He wiggled his butt a bit. Melanie could almost hear his teeth grinding together. "Stuck. Caught. Trapped. I can't move."

Melanie shook her head in sympathy. "Bummer. But I know just how you feel. I've ruined a dozen pair of hose on those darn springs."

He stuck his hand under himself and yelped. "Jesus! Look at this! I'm bleeding!" He withdrew his hand and held up fingers smeared dark red. "I'll probably get tetanus from this rattletrap."

Melanie bent over, grabbed his hand, and peered at it in the dim interior light. Then she sniffed. "Barbecue sauce."

"Excuse me?"

"That isn't blood. It's barbecue sauce. A stray packet from a previous delivery order, no doubt. Here." She reached under the seat and handed him a wad of paper napkins.

He wiped his fingers and scowled at her. "So, my pants are ripped and stained."

"Seems so. Hope you know a good dry cleaner."