“What about Leo?” Genevieve asked.
My face soured. “Ew.”
“Emmett?”
I gagged. “Double ew. I just ate. Do you mind?”
Genevieve laughed. “Sorry. I had to ask. They’re both single and not hard on the eyes.”
“Yeah, they’re easy to look at, but the idea of kissing them . . .” I shuddered. “No. They’re like annoying older brothers and always have been.”
When I’d started working at the garage, there’d been no shortage of handsome men to gawk at and drool over. There’d been a couple Tin Gypsies who’d caught my eye, but not Dash, Emmett or Leo. Yes, they were handsome, equally so in their own way. But I’d always seen them as friends—the closest thing I had to older brothers—and nothing more.
Besides, back then, I’d been too busy figuring out how to survive adult life to dare bring a man into the mix.
When I’d started at the garage, I’d been a naïve eighteen-year-old girl working her first job and living on her own in a new town. I’d grown up fast because there hadn’t been another option. Despite the smile I’d worn to work every day, I think Draven had suspected I was frazzled and at my wits’ end.
He’d sheltered me from the men in the club those first few months, afraid I’d either break or quit. He’d hired me to take over the office duties because he’d decided to retire. Except retirement hadn’t really been Draven’s style, so he’d cut his hours some but showed up at the garage each day.
To this day, I wasn’t sure how he’d warned the club members away, but whenever one of the guys would see me in the office, he’d nod politely, then scurry in the opposite direction.
Draven had been my guardian while Dash had become my champion. Dash had slugged down cup after cup of my shitty coffee, never once complaining. When I’d finally gotten the hang of it, he’d just shrugged and said he’d known I’d figure it out eventually.
Emmett had worked at the garage then too. He’d come into the office on his lunch breaks and ask me what I was having. After two weeks in a row of watching me cook ramen noodles with a coffee mug in the microwave, he’d accidentally started cooking double the night before. One morning I’d shown up at the garage to find two Tupperware containers sitting side by side in the fridge, both marked with sticky notes. One had my name, the other Emmett’s.
His hair had been shorter then, and he’d been going through a rough time. Morning after morning I would take him coffee and wince at the dark circles beneath his eyes. On particularly bad days, he’d reek of alcohol and smoke. But no matter how thick the grief, no matter how dark the cloud that threatened to swallow him whole, Emmett had never failed to bring me lunch.
Until the day I’d figured out how not to burn Hamburger Helper and brought in plastic containers of my own.
Draven, Dash and Emmett. My protectors. Not that I’d needed them. The one and only time a member of the club had dared hit on me, I’d handled it fine on my own.
It had been Leo.
He’d been drunk by five o’clock, which at the time had been Leo’s norm. He hadn’t started working at the garage yet, and to this day, I didn’t know what he’d done for money. I suspected it had something to do with the club—I’d never know.
Leo had been loitering outside the office, hovering beside my car with an amber beer bottle dangling from his fingertips.
Presley, right?
I’d nodded.
You feel like—burp—goin’ for a ride?
I’d burst out laughing, doubling over and nearly peeing myself. When I’d recovered, I’d told him to stop by the office the next morning, promising to give him lessons on how to ask a sober woman out on a date.
Much to my surprise, Leo had stopped by the next day, though not in the morning. Leo didn’t do mornings. He’d come by around noon with sandwiches for us both and another for Emmett. Obnoxious as he was, there was a sweet streak to that man. Someday, I hoped a woman would whip Leo into shape. She’d have a fight on her hands, but it would be worth it.
A smile tugged at my mouth as I thought of the day we’d get to meet her.
“What?” Genevieve asked.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “I was just thinking about the old days.”
“You’ve worked here for, what, ten years?”
I nodded. “Ten years in August. A lot has changed since then.”
“I bet. You were here when the club was still going, weren’t you? What was it like?”
“Wild. Even from the outside, you could feel the energy and excitement. It scared me a little, though I’d never admit it to Dash or Emmett or Leo. Draven kept me pretty far removed from it all, but I sit here. I can see.” I gestured to the window. “I’d catch glimpses of the guys as they rode into the parking lot. They’d breeze by on their way to the clubhouse, wearing their cuts. There were so many of them. Eventually, I stopped trying to figure out who was who. The only ones I really knew were the guys working in the shop or some of the older ones who’d come in to bullshit.”
“Were all the mechanics a part of the club?”
“Yeah. I was the first non-club member to work here. Draven told me that once. Isaiah was the second.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that.”
I nodded. “Draven ran everything in the office. He didn’t do much work in the shop by that point. That was Dash and Emmett’s domain, especially after Emmett’s dad, Stone, was killed.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “I didn’t . . . I don’t know much about Emmett’s family. I’ve only ever heard him talk about his mom.”
“She’s lovely, and he adores her.”
“Tell me again why you’d never be interested in dating Emmett?”
I giggled. “Never gonna happen.”
“Worth a try.” She took a bite of her sandwich, then lowered her voice. “Emmett’s dad was killed? Was it because of the club?”
“I think so. No one ever told me the details. I only know that he died shortly before I moved here and Emmett was devastated.”
The drinking had been obvious. I’d worried there’d been drugs. On more than one occasion, he’d come to work with cuts and bruises on his hands and face that I’d known had come from fighting.
“He worked it out eventually,” I said. “Leo told me once that Emmett smiled a lot more back then. He was kind of like Dash—he loved working alongside his dad.”
“I had no idea.” Genevieve’s eyes turned sad.
“A lot has changed.”
Genevieve had only spent a year around the garage before she’d gone to law school. When she’d lived here, the Tin Gypsies had been just a memory.
But I’d seen it all. I’d seen them in their glory. I’d watched on as they’d lost members and hadn’t replaced them. I’d been here the day the bikes had stopped roaring into the parking lot.
There were still days when I missed the noise.
I yawned, quickly covering it up and slugging down another gulp of Dr Pepper.
“Tired?” Genevieve asked.
“Leo,” I muttered. “The jerk called me at one thirty in the morning last night to pick his drunk ass up from The Betsy.”
“And you went?”
I lifted a shoulder. “He’s Leo.”
“But it’s a no on dating him.” She smirked.
I giggled. “A firm no. The man’s a child.”
Genevieve had come into the garage for lunch today. She’d picked up sandwiches for the entire crew to celebrate the end of the week. Since they’d moved back, she’d been working full-time for Jim Thorne, the best lawyer in town. Jim had closed the firm down early, so Genevieve had surprised us with food.
Except the guys were too busy watching Leo freehand airbrush a hood panel in the paint booth to be disturbed. There was no way I was waiting for those slow asses to show so I could eat my food, so Genevieve and I had started—and finished—without them.
She’d asked me if I was ready to start dating. I’d surprised us both with my yes.
I hadn’t dated. Ever. Not once had a man taken me out on a first date to dinner and a movie. Jeremiah and I hadn’t dated, we’d just been . . . together.
I was almost twenty-eight years old and wanted to be desired. For once in my life, I wanted to be pursued.
The only problem was no man in Clifton Forge had piqued my interest. Granted, I’d been with Jeremiah, but Clifton Forge wasn’t known for its singles scene. I knew most of the single guys around, had met them when they’d come to the garage with their vehicles, and they were single for a reason.
The newest single man in town—at least, I assumed he was single—was a movie star, and there was no way I’d ever be sitting across from Shaw Valance in a restaurant.
Gorgeous as he was, I’d let millions of other women lust after him. It was fitting that he’d played a Greek god not long ago. He had the body for it. With his dark blond hair styled to perfection and those straight white teeth, Shaw had probably melted all the female togas on set.
I was not interested in melting.
And the last thing I needed was Hollywood glamour.
I needed real. Honest. I needed a man with a kind smile, a steady job and humble roots.
Jeremiah had been that guy, minus the job and the humility. If only the idea of kissing Leo or Emmett didn’t sour my stomach.
“So . . .” Genevieve glanced over her shoulder toward the shop, making sure we were alone. There was still no sign of Emmett, Leo or Isaiah. Our other two mechanics, Sawyer and Tyler, usually ate their lunch out back at the picnic table, and Dash didn’t work on Fridays. “Has Jeremiah reached out?”
“Not. A. Word.” I poked the last bite of my turkey sandwich, discarded on its paper wrapper.
“Asshole.”
“You said it.”
I pretended it didn’t hurt that in the six weeks since the wedding, Jeremiah hadn’t reached out once. I pretended that things were better this way. They weren’t, but I was good at pretending.
I’d been pretending life was peachy since birth.
“Did you get the landlord thing squared away?” Genevieve asked.
“For the most part.” I sighed. “I’m trying not to think about how much money I lost.”
On rent. On the wedding.
Jeremiah hadn’t offered up a penny because the bride paid for the wedding, right? Or the bride’s parents? As far as I was concerned, I didn’t have parents, so I’d carved a chunk out of my savings to pay for the entire disaster myself.
The landlord in Ashton hadn’t been pleased when I’d called to cancel my lease. He’d kept my deposit and the first month’s rent I’d prepaid.
Thankfully, I had my job. I could kiss Dash for refusing to accept my resignation until the wedding was over.
It wouldn’t take me long to rebuild my savings cushion, especially now that I wasn’t funding Jeremiah’s poker habit. Or his drinking habit. Or his rent and utilities. I wouldn’t be spending hundreds of dollars in gas each month driving back and forth to Ashton each weekend to visit my fiancé.
Since Jeremiah had joined the Warriors and moved to Ashton, he’d only been back a handful of times. Each time he’d left, I’d noticed all the cash in my wallet had left with him.
I truly hadn’t minded floating him some money. After everything Jeremiah had done for me, I could afford to indulge my fiancé.
I’d loved him. Once.
Or maybe I’d loved the boy he’d been.
He was in the past now. Any affection had shriveled up and suffered an angry death during the past six weeks.
Sleepless, miserable, humiliating nights had a way of turning love into resentment.
Maybe the reason Dash hadn’t attempted to hire a replacement manager for the garage was because he’d hoped things would turn out this way. I couldn’t blame him. He’d seen Jeremiah’s true colors when I hadn’t.
Still, wedding disaster aside, I was lucky. I was happier now than I had been as a kid. I had my modest home with a landlord who’d been overjoyed when I’d asked her if I could stay.
My life looked exactly the same as it had before June, sans Jeremiah.
I had my independence, and that was more precious to me than all the dollars in my savings account.
The boxes I’d packed had been unpacked. I hadn’t had to pawn an engagement ring because Jeremiah hadn’t bought me one; he’d wanted to save that money for our life together. Lies.
Jeremiah was nothing like the men here at the garage. Dash had put a ring on Bryce’s finger weeks after they’d met. He’d married her almost as quickly. When Emmett and Leo met the women destined to ride on the backs of their motorcycles, they’d do the same.
When had I become a pushover? Here I was, thinking I’d become this strong, independent woman over the past ten years. But maybe I’d become what I feared most—my mother.
Was I a doormat for everyone? Or had Jeremiah been my weak point? I’d ponder those questions later tonight, when I was home alone and again shrouded in self-doubt and shame.
“How’s your house?” I asked Genevieve, more than ready to shove Jeremiah out of my mind.
“It’s coming along.” She smiled. “Isaiah keeps telling me not to be in such a hurry to get it decorated, but I can’t seem to stop ordering stuff online. I’m just ready to have a home. These last three years with school, everything has felt so temporary. The year before that too. I want stability.”
“I get that.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
I leaned forward. “Always.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?” My hands flew to my mouth, then up in the air. “Oh my God. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
She beamed. “It’s early but we’re so excited.”
I stood and rounded the desk, bending down to pull her into a hug. “You’re going to be the best mom.”
Genevieve had the heart of a mother—a good mother. Unlike my own, she’d never let her children suffer.
“Thanks. I needed to hear that. I wish my mom was here so I could ask her questions.”
I hugged her tighter.
“We haven’t told many people yet,” she said as I returned to my chair.
I zipped my lips shut.
The door between the office and the shop opened and the guys burst inside. Isaiah immediately went to kiss his wife. Emmett and Leo dove into the fridge.
“I forgot to tell you something last night,” Leo said, his mouth full as he sat beside Emmett underneath the window.
“Last night?” Isaiah looked between the two of us.
I waved it off. “I collected his drunk ass from The Betsy.”
Leo swallowed his bite. “I saw this chick who, swear to God, looked just like you.”
My body tensed. There was one chick who looked like me but . . . no. Impossible. “You were drunk, Leo. Very, very drunk.”
“True.” He chomped another bite of his ham and swiss.
“No one looks like Pres.” Emmett chuckled. “She’s the only fairy sprite in Clifton Forge.”
I rolled my eyes. “One Halloween. One. And I’ll never live it down.”
“Live what down?” Genevieve asked.
“Let me tell it.” Emmett held up a hand before I could talk. “So Pres had been working here for a couple of years. She wasn’t twenty-one yet and Draven would have smothered us with our own pillows if we’d invited her to the party at the clubhouse. We decided to have a party here after work. We all clocked out and Pres disappears into the bathroom. She comes out dressed as a fairy. Wand and everything.”
“Okay,” Genevieve drawled. “Why is that funny?”
“Ask her where she bought the costume.”
“The kids’ section,” Leo blurted. “None of us would have teased her about it except she left the tags on.”
Emmett and Leo burst into hysterics.
“I’m a small person!” I shouted over their laughter, fighting my own smile. I’d never understood why that story amused them so much, but they always laughed, and I liked their laughs. “I hope you choke on your food.” I feigned a scowl. “These dickheads called me Pixie for months.”
“Anyway,” Leo said. “This girl looked just like you except she had long hair.”
The tension returned, mounting. Could it have been . . . no. There was no way Scarlett was anywhere near Clifton Forge. If she were here, I’d know about it. “You’re not to be trusted when you’re wearing beer goggles.”
He chuckled. “True.”
“What’s on the board for the rest of the day?” Emmett asked.
I rattled off the list of scheduled appointments. Being a Friday, both he and Isaiah wanted to leave early, so they offered to take some of the oil changes and help out Sawyer and Tyler.
Genevieve hugged me goodbye and declared she was going home to take a nap. Isaiah escorted her to her car and kissed her goodbye before returning to work.
The noise in the shop picked up as I resumed working on payroll. When the door opened, I looked up, expecting to see the customer scheduled for a tire rotation. Instead, I was met with a pair of golden-brown eyes that had not been haunting me for two weeks.
“Ugh,” I groaned as my heart skipped. “You again?”
“I’ve missed you too.” The corner of Shaw’s mouth turned up.
Other women probably called that mouth delectable. Not me. Never me.
“What do you want?” I carefully kept my tone flat.
If Shaw Valance knew that he made my pulse race, there’d be no tolerating him. His ego barely fit through the door as it was. He’d think it was attraction that made my voice shaky. That I liked having him here, when this physical reaction was nothing more than irritation.
I was on edge because Shaw was well practiced at delivering a line, and nothing he said could be trusted.
“I was hoping to see how my bike is coming along.”
“Dash isn’t here today. You’ll have to come back next week.”
Isaiah was actually working on Shaw’s bike, but he didn’t need to know the details.
I focused on my screen. The muscles in my legs were bunched tight to keep my foot from bouncing on the floor, and I held my breath, eyes forward, waiting for him to leave.
The chair across from mine dragged on the carpet as he took a seat.
A low growl rumbled in my chest.
Shaw chuckled and—sweet Jesus—his voice was so smooth, like a satin ribbon running through my fingers. It was deep but not too deep. Low but not quiet.
Irritating. The man was wholly irritating.
I hadn’t resorted to googling Shaw yet, but I had spent my sleepless nights over the past two weeks watching all his movies. His voice had lulled me to sleep. A secret I’d take to the grave.
“Like I said, Dash isn’t here.” As in, go away.
The last thing I needed was a superstar invading more of my life. I’d let him do that enough with just the one visit.
What the fuck kind of name was Shaw Valance anyway? I would have bet my life it was a stage name and not his legal name. I guess it could still be fake; maybe he’d legally changed his name. But something about the way he’d said it felt familiar, like he’d been saying it his whole life.
His gaze burned a hot trail down my body as he took me in. It was times like this that made me wish I still had my long hair to drape over my tiny breasts.
I’d worn a pair of boyfriend jeans today. They were baggy and cinched tight around my waist with a camo cloth belt. But it was hot outside so I’d paired it with a thin black tank top. The red straps of my bra showed from collarbone to shoulder blade.
Shaw’s gaze was locked on those red bands. “I’d like to watch.”
What? Watch? Me?
“The bike,” he added. “I’d like to observe, maybe learn a few things as they build it.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flamed, something else hard to hide with short hair.
I was an idiot. Why would a famous actor want to watch me? He wouldn’t. Besides, I didn’t want him here either. I was busy and the way he wore his jeans, loose but not too loose, was an unnecessary distraction.
He was too . . . polished. Too refined. Too perfect. I wasn’t going for perfect. I was going for good enough.
Because good enough wouldn’t shatter my soul.
“Why?” I asked. Didn’t he have better things to do than lurk at a small-town garage?
He shrugged. “I’ve always been interested in cars and motorcycles. While I’m here, I’d like to see how it’s done.”
“No.” No way in hell. I could not have this man around me for weeks on end. “Don’t you have a movie to make?”
“I’ll have free time between shooting.”
“It’s a liability. You can’t be in the garage. Employees only.”
“Hire me as an employee. I’ll work for free.”
“No.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “How much?”
“This isn’t a negotiation or something you can buy with your platinum credit card.”
I’d never touched a credit card like Shaw’s before. It was heavier than the ones we mere mortals were granted for our wallets. Hell, he could buy the house next door to mine with one swipe.
“How much?” he asked again. “Just to observe. I promise to stay out of the way.”
“Were your parents the type who never said no to you as a child?”
“I understand the meaning of no.”
“Do you though?” I raised an eyebrow.
Neither of us was going to give. He’d probably go over my head and ask Dash. Most men didn’t like being told no by a woman, let alone a woman the size of a teenager.
“This is the safe zone, right? A place for the public?” He lifted a finger and twirled it in a circle. “I can observe through the window in that door.”
“Excuse me?”
“That window.” He shifted and pointed to the door. “I’ll just watch from here. Probably better that way anyway. You can keep me company. Hours between shoots are boring.”
“Then read a book. Go hiking. Work on your tan.”
“Nah.” He grinned. The son of a bitch knew he was getting to me. Was this how Dash had felt when Shaw had backed him into a corner with that stock Harley bullshit?
If he were bluffing, I would have stood my ground. But I had no doubt that Shaw would show up here each and every morning to stand beside the door and irritate me for hours.
“You’ll have to sign an insurance waiver.”
Sorry, Isaiah. I was passing this nuisance off to him. Hopefully Dash would boot his ass out of the shop.
“Happy to.” His grin turned into an arrogant smile as he stood and walked to the door. “Goodbye, Presley.”
I ignored him. I ignored the way my name sounded in his voice.
I ignored that chuckle, that glorious fucking chuckle, as it echoed in the office long after he’d closed the door.