Chapter 4
Brandon
“You buckled in?” Avery asked the second I was finally situated in the passenger seat.
“Yeah, all good.”
“Excellent.” The tendons in his hand moved as he flexed it over the gearshift, putting the Audi into reverse, and backed out of the shop’s parking lot.
“Nice car you got.” The remark was off-handed, meant for a throwaway kind of line that most people used when trying to fill up the awkward space. In this case, though, I absolutely meant it.
“Thanks. Bought it at the beginning of this year. Cash, no interest. Got a good deal.”
Jesus... Imagine having a cool 100k lying around that could be spent frivolously on a sports car.
He had one of the newest models that were suped-up with the long paneled touch screen spanning from the driver’s to the passenger’s side, displaying all sorts of modules that were tempting me to reach over and fiddle with.
The interior was black leather with a sharp orange trim that looked sleek despite it being a little more unconventional in terms of style. The engine rumbled pleasantly, leading me to believe that, taken down a long stretch of highway, this thing could do numbers on the speedometer.
He drove stick while we moved through traffic, handling the gears expertly in a casual sort of way that kind of got me a little horny.
Okay, maybe a lot horny.
The thing about Avery was that he made most things look effortless. His ability to command anything that he could get his hands on—this car, an entire goddamn room full of people, whatever it was—went unmatched.
That trait of his was one I’d always admired. With years between us and our lives being completely foreign to each other, I was glad that this fact had somehow remained true.
“How was your first night back in Ellington Heights?” I asked.
“All right. Felt weird being back in that house.”
I imagined so.
Regardless of Avery’s tumultuous relationship with his father, being away from a place you’d once spent every single day living in, had to have felt strange.
I’d lived in this town for my entire life and I still found myself having déjà vu moments from time to time since moving all the way across town.
“Was the staff happy to see you?” I asked, forcing my eyes away from the hand gripping his gearshift.
“I think so. It’s hard to tell since everyone’s still shocked over my father’s death. I don’t think any of them really thought he’d keel over in the way that he did. A man like that you’d expect to live till he’s eighty.’
“That’s true.” I paused, then asked, “Did you? Ever expect him to...”
Avery was quiet for a moment, his eyes fixated out the windshield to the intersection’s light up ahead.
Perhaps that was the wrong question to be bringing up so soon into us talking again. I’d been reeling since he’d come into my shop, nonstop thinking of all the things I’d wanted to say and ask him that it’d driven me nuts.
My curiosities weren’t exactly an excuse to be asking him such personal questions anyway. No matter how close we once were. Death and grief were tricky things, as were coming to terms with the process of living through them.
How could I, someone who had no contact with him until two days ago, be expecting him to answer?
Before I could apologize, Avery spoke.
“Yes and no. He certainly wasn’t going to live that long but I was also surprised he passed before he turned sixty-five. For some reason, I feel like he was still pretty young. Or maybe I’m just getting old.” He let out a soft chuckle, shifting again to accelerate as the light turned green.
The sound had my stomach knotting. Fuck, maybe it was a bad idea to let him drive me over to the place. Being enclosed in a space like this wasn’t exactly giving me much room to put distance between us.
It’s funny how feelings never truly go away, no matter how much time has passed.
A teenage crush carrying well into adulthood was pretty sad, if not downright strange.
No wonder my sister was determined to hook me up with someone.
She probably saw right through my pathetic ‘I’m okay being single’ act.
Avery pulled us up to a facility that had a gate and an attendant waiting for us. After passing over our credentials—mine in the form of my shop ID—we were let through without any issue and soon driving up to a garage toward the back of the property.
The units were built on either side of the main road, carved out in sections with smaller drives running down them for access. Avery’s was one of the last garages on the property, a large four-door that was painted a soft yellow cream to match the surrounding ones.
Getting out of the car was more a relief for my pounding heart than anything else. I sucked in a deep lungful of air, trying to get myself under control before I made more of a fool out of my own pride.
Avery’s door slammed shut behind him. He then fished a pair of keys out of his pants pocket as he strode over to the left garage door.
Unlike the day he’d come into my shop, he was wearing a more casual outfit though still looked quite expensive.
His slacks were looser fitting and were cuffed at the bottom, the color of which matched with his black knit top that was fitted to his chest perfectly under a bomber jacket that he left unzipped.
He looked damn good which was unfortunate news for my poor libido.
The garage’s door screeched horribly when he lifted it, causing us both to wince.
“You’d think a place like this would have automatic doors,” he drawled.
“I imagine it’s in case of a power outage. People can still access their things no matter what, like in the event of a hurricane or something.”
Avery snorted. “That may be true. Not sure why someone would need four classic cars during inclement weather.”
Coming up behind him, I peeked around his shoulder to see the first car. A lower whistle spilled out of me.
A 1957 Chevy Bel Air in turquoise. The ultimate classic. The classic of all classics.
“Mind if I...” I nodded to it.
He stepped back from the doorway. “Please. Go ahead.”
Shooting him a brief smile, I stepped up onto the small lip leading into the garage and moved around the space.
The car’s paint job was in good condition, as were the tires—black with that infamous white trim around the hubcap.
Peering inside of the window, the interior was much the same in terms of condition while nothing out of the ordinary jumped out at me.
“Was your dad planning on driving these cars around? Is that why he bought them?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. The guy down at the gates was surprised when I showed up the other day to take pictures. Said no one’s been up here for years.”
That was odd.
To have something this beautiful just sitting here rotting away was a damn shame. There were way too many people in this world that would kill for a car like this and actually take good care of it.
Rich people always had it way too easy.
Leaning back from the window, I came around to the front of the car and felt around near the grill. The latch for the hood was just under the lip of the grill, making it easy to pop and get the thing open.
Avery came over quickly to hold the hood up, which almost had me leaping out of my damn skin, while I grabbed the stick and slotted it into place.
“Thanks,” I said, letting it go.
“Yeah, no problem.” His gaze darted around the engine. “So, what’s it look like?”
Leaning over the lip of the car, I tugged out my flashlight to shine it over a few spots, testing things along the way.
The oil was definitely in need of a change, as were some of the old fluids still sitting in their pipes.
The engine block looked fairly new, as well as the battery, although that was most likely dead considering how long Avery had said this car was sitting here for.
Kneeling, I ducked under the car to take a look at the undercarriage, seeing no crazy rust spots or missing catalytic converters that had been recently sawed off.
“This one looks pretty good,” I said, standing again. “Want to show me the others?”
He nodded.
Going next door to the other three garages, he pulled them open for me, revealing a 1966 Chevy Chevelle, a 1932 Ford Coupe and another Chevy Bel Air but in black.
“For someone who wasn’t at all interested in driving these around to show off, he sure had some taste,” I mumbled.
“If he had one thing going for him, it was the right to brag about something.” Avery’s eyes crinkled slightly.
Too true.
That man was a damn shark when it came to showcasing his wealth.
But I supposed, coming from a billionaire family kind of ended up rotting your brain one way or another.
Pulling up the hood of the Chevelle, I noticed immediately that this one was definitely not as well preserved as the Bel Air.
Poking at a few spots, it was clear that not only would a lot of the smaller pieces need to be replaced such as the timing belt.
But the engine wasn’t looking too good either.
And that was simply a guesstimation based solely without starting up the actual car to see it in action.
“Uh oh. That face isn’t very promising.”
My body stiffened when Avery came up from behind me and leaned over the side of the car, our shoulders briefly brushing together. He was warm, even hidden under his jacket. A shiver rolled up my spine, causing me to clench my teeth tightly together.
“I can’t really give a good opinion unless I bring it in for a full work up.”
“You didn’t say that about the other one. Which leads me to believe you’ve got some kind of idea.”
I did. But not one that was solid yet.
Anytime a customer came into my shop with some kind of problem, I had at least two running theories. Rarely was I ever wrong on either prediction as most problems skewed one way or the other.
However, a situation like this one was a bit out of the norm. I wasn’t in my shop, putting a customer’s vehicle up on the stilts and hooking it up to my code reader to see what the hell was going on.