Chapter 34
34
DEAN
T he afternoon sun beat down on my back as I ran the polishing cloth over the chrome exhaust pipes of the custom build I had just finished. The rhythmic motion was soothing, the smell of wax and gasoline filling my nose. Out here in the shop, with my hands busy and my mind focused on the work, I could almost forget about Seth sitting in that jail cell. Almost.
The shop was quiet except for the hum of the overhead fan. I had the bay door open to get a little sunshine while I worked. Seth’s face kept flickering in my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about him in prison orange with the black eye.
I clenched my jaw, pressing the cloth harder against the metal. Seth had always been reckless, always testing limits, but this? This was different. He’d crossed a line he couldn’t just charm his way back from.
“Idiot,” I muttered under my breath, though the word felt hollow. Anger simmered beneath the surface, but so did something else—something that made me want to grab my keys and drive straight to that damn jail. He was my brother, after all. My little brother.
But he had to tough it out. I just prayed he didn’t get shanked while he was in there. If he was seriously injured or murdered in jail, I didn’t know how I was going to come back from that. I would lose my shit. The guilt would bury me.
A shadow fell across the bike. I glanced up to see Eddie strolling up to the garage with his familiar smirk in place.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I asked.
I wiped my hands on a rag and got to my feet to shake his hand.
“Heard about your brother,” he said. “Thought I’d check in and see how you’re doing.”
The unexpected gesture caught me off guard. Eddie wasn’t exactly the sentimental type.
“Appreciate it,” I said. “I’m good.”
“You’re good?” he asked. “We both know that’s bullshit.”
I sighed, leaning back against the bike. Eddie wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t good. How could I be? But admitting it out loud felt like opening a floodgate I wasn’t ready to face.
“Seth’s in over his head,” I said finally. “Always has been. But this time… this time it’s different.”
Eddie crossed his arms, his expression serious for once. “You think he’ll learn from it?”
I barked out a humorless laugh. “Doubt it. He’s got a knack for finding trouble, not learning from it.”
“And what about you?” Eddie asked, tilting his head like he was studying me. “You going to keep bailing him out every time he screws up?”
I didn’t answer right away because I didn’t have one. Seth had always been my responsibility, ever since we were kids. But how many times could I clean up his messes before it cost me more than I was willing to pay?
Eddie clapped a hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Look, man, I get it. Family’s family. But don’t let him drag you down with him.”
I nodded, though the words didn’t sit right with me. Letting Seth figure things out on his own felt like abandoning him, and that wasn’t something I could do—no matter how much I wanted to strangle him.
But I wasn’t about to have a shrink session with a guy that knew nothing about anything except motorcycles.
I tossed him a clean rag. “Make yourself useful.”
Eddie caught it one-handed and grinned. “Knew you’d put me to work. It’s been a long time since I was stuck with the grunt work.”
“This is the best work,” I said with a laugh. “I’d pay someone to just let me clean up bikes all day.”
He laughed. “Bullshit.”
“I like it,” I said. “Almost as much as I like building the damn things.”
“I don’t understand why you spend your days in this greasy shop,” he said. “You should be out on a yacht enjoying the fortune you earned.”
I shrugged, picking up the polishing cloth again. “This is where I belong. Yachts and champagne aren’t my thing. Never have been.”
Eddie chuckled and knelt down beside one of the bikes. “Yeah, but you’ve got enough money to buy half the town. Why not enjoy it a little?”
“Money doesn’t change who you are,” I said flatly. “And it sure as hell doesn’t fix everything. More like it shouldn’t change who you are. I’m still the same asshole that likes to tinker in the garage. It makes me happy to get grease under my fingernails. Walking away from the shop would make me miserable.”
He got busy, wiping down the chrome. He was the guy that had taught me how to properly shine a bike. I learned a lot from him and missed having him around. Eddie was one of the few people who didn’t feel the need to fill every quiet moment with chatter. We worked side by side for a while, the rhythmic motions of cleaning and polishing keeping my mind from wandering back to Seth and his latest disaster.
“So,” he said after a while, elbow-deep in polishing the tank of the bike. “What’s the lawyer saying?”
I exhaled through my nose, focusing on a stubborn smudge on the fender. “Thinks he’s got a decent shot at community service. Maybe probation.”
Eddie snorted. “Long as the judge isn’t on some vendetta against hoodlums. Or Seth in general. Some judges are bent on sending messages, especially to someone like Seth.”
The old-fashioned word made me chuckle despite myself. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”
“Fits, though,” Eddie said, giving me a knowing look.
I didn’t argue. Seth had been skating by on charm and my good name for too long. Maybe this would finally knock some sense into him.
After a couple hours of work, we cracked open a couple beers and sat in the lawn chairs in the shade. Again, it felt like ten years ago. Eddie and I would bust ass all day and then reward ourselves with a cold beer. Neither of us were in a hurry to get home.
“So,” Eddie said, taking a long pull from his bottle. “Been seeing someone.”
I nearly choked on my beer. “You? Voluntarily spending time with the same woman more than once?”
“Fuck off,” he said, but he was grinning. “Her name’s Rachel. Works at that custom paint shop over in Millerton.”
I nodded, filing that away. Eddie actually sounded happy. Hi grumpy ass made me look like sunshine. We were quite the pair back in the day.
“Congratulations,” I said.
“What about you?” he asked. “Got anyone special?”
I smirked. “Actually, I do. Me and Portia Watson have made things official.”
“We should go on a double date sometime,” Eddie said.
“No offense, but I’d rather be crushed under my engine lift.” I laughed. “You at a dinner table isn’t a pretty sight. I don’t want to scare her off.”
Eddie laughed. “Fair enough.”
I leaned back in the lawn chair, the beer cool in my hand.
“Never thought you’d be with the Watson girl,” he said. “She’s a little younger, isn’t she?”
“A little. But she’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. Yeah, she’s a few years younger, but the woman is smart. Savvy. Strong.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised I was even talking about her. “Different how?”
“She doesn’t take my shit,” I said with a small laugh. “Most people either tiptoe around me or bail when they realize I’m not exactly sunshine and rainbows. But Portia? She calls me out. Every damn time.”
He chuckled. “Shit, you’re describing me.”
“Not even close. She’s a hell of a lot prettier than you. She’s got this fire in her, you know? Like she won’t let anything—or anyone—knock her down. Even when she’s struggling herself, she’s still standing there, chin up, ready to fight.”
Eddie nodded slowly. “Sounds like you admire that.”
“I do,” I admitted. “But it’s more than that. She sees me. Not the money, not the business, not even the mess with Seth. Just me. And somehow, she hasn’t run screaming yet.”
I took a sip of my beer. Eddie was quiet for a moment, his eyes on the horizon.
“You know, sounds like you found something rare. Don’t screw it up.”
I glanced at him, half-expecting a smirk or a jab, but his expression was uncharacteristically serious. “You giving me relationship advice now? That’s new.”
“Just saying,” he replied, shrugging. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who lets people in easily. Hell, I’ve known you for years and I still don’t know half of what goes on in that head of yours. If she’s got you talking like this, maybe she’s worth hanging onto.”
He wasn’t wrong. Portia had slipped past the walls I’d spent years building without even trying. It scared the hell out of me sometimes, but there was no denying she’d become a part of my life I didn’t want to lose.
“We’ll see,” I said. “See if she figures out I really am that asshole everyone else sees.”
He laughed. “I’m sure she’s already seen it. You said you’re official. Is it like meet-the-parents official?”
I felt a feeling of dread wash over me. “Tomorrow night, actually. I know them, but tomorrow is the day we’re having dinner as a couple.”
Eddie let out a low whistle. “Damn. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Shut up.”
“Are you nervous about it?”
I rolled the bottle between my palms. “I don’t do family dinners. I’m not sure nervous is the right word.”
“Yeah, well, you do now,” Eddie said, like it was that simple. “Side pieces? No parents. But when she’s your girl?” He shrugged. “Different story.”
The words settled in my chest, warm and unfamiliar. Your girl. I tried to hide my smile behind my beer bottle, but Eddie saw it anyway.
“Look at you,” he teased. “All domesticated.”
I flipped him off, but there was no heat in it.
Eddie just grinned. “So, you gonna bring flowers or something? Maybe a fruit basket? Make a good impression and all that.”
“Flowers?” I scoffed. “What am I, sixteen? Do I look like the kind of guy who shows up with a bouquet?”
He shrugged. “Hey, man, I’m just saying. You show up empty-handed looking like… well, you, her parents might think you’re robbing the place.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, taking another swig of beer.
“Seriously, though,” Eddie said, his tone shifting. “You need to show up with something. It’s not about the flowers or whatever. It’s about showing you care enough to make an effort. And trust me, parents notice that kind of stuff. You’re basically asking them to hand over their most prized possession.”
I frowned, staring at the label on my bottle. The idea of trying to impress anyone—let alone Portia’s parents—made my skin crawl. But Eddie wasn’t wrong. Portia deserved someone who’d put in the effort, even if it meant stepping out of my comfort zone.
“Fine,” I said finally. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Atta boy,” Eddie said, clinking his bottle against mine. “See? You’re learning already.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
Eddie finished his beer and got to his feet. “I should head out. Rachel’s expecting me.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
Eddie nodded, his usual smirk softening just a bit. “Anytime. And Dean?” He paused, meeting my eyes. “Don’t fuck up dinner tomorrow.”
I snorted. “No promises.”
I thought about texting Portia to ask what I should bring. She was probably signing the lease on her new office right now. I didn’t want to bother her. And if I asked her what to bring, that would ruin the spontaneity. I had to figure this one out on my own.