Chapter 8
“If we had known you were coming, we would’ve done something fancier than burgers and brats.”
“I don’t need anything special, and this looks amazing.”
Big Mike looked down at her and said, “For a first meal with the family, special always works. Next time.”
Flynn wondered if there would be a next time, especially with the voices coming from the house.
“You guys are all so nice, especially with Marcus springing this on you.”
“It seems like he sprung it on you too.”
“You could say that.”
“But you had to know before yesterday. If I reach back into my fuzzy old-man memory, I remember the two of you having a moment outside the jail after we bailed you out.”
“Oh God, I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that,” Flynn groaned as she covered her face with her hand. “How mortifying. I swear, it was the first and last time I’ve ever been arrested. And it was all a mistake. Charges were dropped, and everything was erased from police records.”
“You still got those hooker boots?” he asked with a sideways grin.
“Oh my God. Seriously? Your memory isn’t fuzzy at all.”
Big Mike laughed. “It was quite the first impression, kid.”
“I’ll have you know, I gave all those clothes—and the boots—to Goodwill, along with every piece of clothing I owned that could ever get me mistaken for a hooker again. I practically dressed like a nun for the rest of college and never went to another frat party.”
Big Mike’s grin stretched until his white teeth were fully on display. “A loss for those college boys, but I’d say God has a sense of humor and found a unique way to keep you out of trouble.”
Flynn paused. “You know, I never thought of it like that.”
“Bigger picture, kid. There’s always a bigger picture.”
She glanced up at the barrel-chested Puerto Rican. It was like staring at an older version of Marcus’s face. “How’d you get so wise?”
“Life experience. It teaches you a lot. You might think you got it all figured out now, but when you’re my age, you’re gonna look back and realize you’re dumb as shit right now.”
Flynn burst out laughing.
“It ain’t personal, kid. You don’t know what you don’t know. That takes living, and living takes time.”
“God, you’re such a good dad.”
Big Mike’s chest bounced with quiet laughter. “I did my best. That’s all you can do. Love the shit out of them and put them first. Be willing to sacrifice out of love for your family. Do whatever it takes, even if it gets a bit shady sometimes.”
“I’m wanted in Pennsylvania.” Flynn didn’t know what had made her blurt it out, but there it was. “Well not me, but the Black Widow—my street racing persona. As soon as I found out, I quit crossing that state line. I didn’t want to make more trouble for Scarlett.”
Big Mike wrapped an arm around her and gave her a quick sideways hug. “You’re gonna be all right, kid. You got a good heart. That’s plain as day.”
“But?” Flynn felt like there was a but coming.
“Yeah, staying out of Pennsylvania is smart. And eventually, we all gotta grow up and quit the shady shit.”
“I was already planning on it. I get unrestricted access to my trust fund when I turn twenty-five. I only street raced to put myself through college and make ends meet until then.”
His whole body shook as he chuckled. “What a way to make ends meet.”
“I built quite the nest egg racing for pinks, and I graduated debt-free from NYU with a double major in finance and econ.”
“Shit, kid. You might be young, but it’s clear you aren’t stupid.”
“I try not to be. But like you said, I don’t know what I don’t know.”
“And admitting that right there is the beginning of wisdom. You’re gonna be fine, Flynn. Just fine.”
Female voices carried through the window.
“You think they agree?”
Big Mike was quick to laugh, and Flynn already loved that about him.
“Ain’t no girl ever been good enough for Marcus, according to them.
But that doesn’t matter if you are the right girl.
” He glanced down at her. “Don’t worry about them.
It’s my boy whose decision matters. And bringing you here, no warning like this, means something.
He doesn’t do anything recklessly these days.
Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s had an eye on you for years, but didn’t want to admit it, even to himself. ”
“Seriously?”
“Just an old man’s ramblings. Keep your head up, kid. He’s never let his ma or sisters boss him around. Once his mind is made up, there’s no changing it.”
“How’s it going out here?” Marcus asked as he crossed the deck to stop beside his dad. “Ma sent me out with cheese.”
“Perfect timing. Just about to flip them.” His dad grinned. “It’s good to see you survived the interrogation. Don’t worry; I haven’t given Flynn the third degree.”
“Didn’t expect you would.” Marcus met her gaze. “You do eat meat, right?”
His dad’s bushy brows shot up.
“Absolutely. I gave being vegan a shot for six months, once upon a time. It was horrible. I missed steak.”
His dad was quick to laugh, as always. “Smart girl. She gets my vote. Especially if we get her in the Chevelle. Now that I’d like to see.”
“Pop …”
“Just sayin’.” He held up his hands and the flipper. “Nothin’ wrong with appreciatin’ what’s been built right here in America.”
“I’ve always wanted a Chevelle. I almost got to race a guy in one, but the cops got called, and we all bailed,” Flynn said.
Marcus’s gaze shot to her as his Pop answered, “Probably a good thing. He might’ve kicked your ass.”
“I’ll never know. I never saw that car again.”
“I’ll race you in mine, kid.”
Flynn grinned, and Marcus could tell she and his dad were hitting it off just the way he had known they would. His dad loved his girls, but not a single one of them shared his love of cars like Flynn.
“On a drag strip?” Flynn asked.
“Drag strip, runway, side street. I don’t care where. My baby is fast and loud.”
Flynn grinned, and it made her even more beautiful. “I’m in—as long as it’s not in Pennsylvania.”
His dad burst out laughing. “I really like this one, Marcus. My gut said she’d be a good match for you all those years ago. Time is proving me right.”
“Why not Pennsylvania?” he asked, grateful for his approval, but wondering what he’d missed while they were out here at the grill, thick as thieves.
“I’m … retired in Pennsylvania,” Flynn said.
“Nah, just tell him the truth, kid. He can handle it. Honesty is always the best policy.”
Marcus’s eyebrows went up as he waited.
Flynn’s shoulders inched upward in a wince. “The Black Widow is wanted by the Pennsylvania State Police. She—I—made their list of most wanted street racers,” she said quickly.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Marcus said, looking from her to Pop and back to her.
“Nope, that’s why I don’t go there anymore.”
“But you’re still racing in New York?”
“And Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Rhode Island, Vermont, occasionally Maine and New Hampshire.”
His dad belly-laughed so hard that he had to step back from the grill to bend over and slap his leg.
“I fucking like this girl, Marcus. She’s a keeper.”
He just stared at Flynn. “When are you gonna quit that shit?”
“It’s only, like, once a month …”
“She’s only doing what she’s gotta do to make ends meet, Marcus. Cut the girl a break. You’re the last one who should judge.”
“Yeah, but I care what happens to her, Pop.”
“You do?” Flynn sounded surprised.
Marcus met her wide green eyes. “Of course I fucking do. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Then I guess that settles it, Big Mike. We are definitely not street racing.” Flynn bit her lip as she smiled. “Does your mom need help inside? I think I’m ready for the inquisition.”