Chapter 3
J osie strolled to her dad’s garage and sucked in a deep breath. A block away and she could feel the testosterone cloud surrounding her.
The garage played neighbor to a house, but the house was deceptive. Each room could be turned into a detailing studio for the pieces that ran through her dad’s control.
Pieces. She rolled her eyes to the clear, blue sky.
Pieces of hot cars meant her dad didn’t run a chop shop—in his eyes only. Not if the car was chopped before it got to him. He just “helped a guy out” if they wanted their “new” car repainted…one piece at a time. The law may have a different interpretation.
She entered the garage where the official works that he refurbished to sell for big money were restored.
“Where’ve you been?”
She glared at the tall man swaggering toward her, wiping his hands off on a rag. Gage knew how good-looking he was and he wielded it like a weapon.
His mouth turned down and he took in her hair. “Why’d you cut your hair?”
Cuz you liked it long . “It’s summer. It’s hot.”
“Well, grow it back out.”
“I’m diggin’ it.” Especially now. So worth it to see the distaste in his eyes. “And after it was cut, I ate an entire pint of the premo ice cream.”
His eyes glowered and her old anger rose back up. All the times he chugged a beer while chiding her to back off the chips and salsa. Why had she stayed with him so long?
“There you are.”
Oh, yeah. That was why.
Her dad came into the garage from the house and she wanted to sigh. All those nice shirts she bought him and he wore the wife beaters. You know I don’t do that nice stuff , he’d groused. Because the pack of three tees for twenty bucks was too much of a splurge.
“Hey, Bill. I came to do the financials.” The legal ones. His one streak of chivalry was refusing to let her touch those books.
Paunchy cheeks puffed out. He didn’t like her hair, either, but she was his one soft spot. She used to be such a daddy’s girl. Until he cut her off from mechanic duties. Then he became Bill.
Which also worked against her because his protective streak was racetrack wide. Exhibit one: Gage.
Bill sifted his thinning blond hair to the side. Shave it all, she’d urged, but he refused to. Said her mother had liked it long.
Little did he know, she’d talked her mom, bless her soul, into putting the clippers down when he’d been snoring in his recliner one afternoon.
“I gathered all of June’s financials into a folder for you.”
“Josie,” Gage piped up, “I’m grabbing lunch. What do you want?”
“Nothing.” Not from you .
“Baby doll, don’t be rude.” And it was Bill to Gage’s rescue. “That’s not how you treat a man who offers to buy you a meal.”
Gage smirked. “Turkey sandwich, on rye?”
“Sourdough,” she called over her shoulder as she headed to the office. “With a ton of mayo, and not the light stuff.”
“Mayo’s not good for your heart, Jo. Right, Bill? She’s gotta watch her ticker.”
Josie fisted her hands. If Gage wanted to win her back, he was heading in the opposite direction. But in her opinion, all roads were closed as far as she and Gage were concerned.
She popped her head out of the office to glare at Gage. “My heart is none of your business.”
Gage folded his arms and shrugged. “No, but it’s your dad’s.”
Bill shot her that look, the one she hated, the one that said he was trying to do his best by her.
“Fine,” she huffed. I’ll choke on my dry sandwich .
Why did Bill worry about her health when he’d let her mom cook herself to death by frying everything in lard?
Locating the folder, she thumbed through the documents. Her day grew dimmer with each one. Her dad’s business was struggling. She blew out a breath of frustration. Job hunting was in her future.
Rather, more job hunting. Either no one wanted to hire an accountant whose only client was her dad and his failing business, or Bill found out and intervened with a “good” word.
Josie’s mouth flattened. And here she’d thought her mom had gladly been a stay-at-home mom to her and her older brother. The stories Josie heard growing up about what food her mom would serve if she ran a restaurant weren’t tall tales. Bill probably wanted her at home “for her own good.”
The floor creaked outside of the office. Josie looked up and didn’t bother hiding her disdain.
A lock of black hair fell over Gage’s forehead. She suspected he did it on purpose, to give himself the smoldering bad boy appeal. It wasn’t the hair that worked, but the actions that made him a bad boy—not in a good way.
He set a bag down from the corner deli.
“Did you at least grab a bag of chips for me?” She knew the answer was the same as that to another question: Did the fender resting inside the doorway belong to a car with an owner who knew where it was?
No.
“You don’t need chips.” Gage hooked a chair with his shoe and sat down. His coveralls were hanging at the waist. His Alvarez Automotive gray T-shirt had seen better days, but the way it molded over his torso was the reason he’d never get rid of it.
How had she not seen how vain he was?
“It’s not your call,” she informed him.
“It is when I’m buying.”
“Please. I’m going through the receipts. You never buy your own lunch.” Just like her father never listened to her and packed a lunch.
Oh, Bill would let her prepare food for him and the guys, then come and do the books, only to go home to make more food.
A woman’s place and all that bullshit.
“Bill insists.” Gage’s glittering brown eyes studied her hair.
She resisted fidgeting with her pen and stared at him. Funny how being pinned under Brock hadn’t been as uncomfortable as five minutes with Gage. And she hadn’t been filled with insecurities about her looks around the farm boy.
Gage’s voice dropped low. “Quit this foolishness and come back to me.”
Same plea, different day.
“Banging Camilla was just foolishness?” Her voice was flat, but the pain in her heart wasn’t. She’d been head over heels for Gage. Bill had approved and encouraged their relationship, and she’d given Gage all she had.
Until Gage had acted just like her father.
Gage’s expression turned hard. “Come on. We already discussed this, been over it a hundred times. How many times do I gotta apologize?”
“I dunno. How many times did you fuck her?”
He glowered at her. “Language, Jo.”
“Swear words are the like the elusive female orgasm. Satisfying once I finally get to use one.”
Red tinged his cheeks. Hit a nerve had she? Which proved she had better aim than he did because her private bundle of nerves had always won the hide and seek game with him.
Had Camilla gotten off?
Since Josie’s luck sucked lately, Camilla probably had. The blond and blue-eyed beauty was the opposite of Josie in every way. And had been after Gage for years.
Camilla can have him.
Gage leaned forward and knocked on the desktop. “You’ll come back. Just wait. We were good together.”
He ambled out and a pang of longing went through her. Not for Gage, specifically, but for what she’d thought they had.
Three delusional years he’d strung her along. He’d snagged her right out of college after she’d been hearing her dad gush about his new hire. She’d come home and shot straight into Gage’s waiting arms.
Josie tried to go back to crunching numbers, but her vision was blurring. A year ago her mother had died from a heart attack and grief had bogged her ever since.
Had Gage supported her when she’d needed him the most?
No, but from the rumors, he’d supported the hell out of Camilla.
The floor outside the door groaned again. Josie blinked back her tears.
Bill lumbered in and parked in the chair Gage had vacated. “When are you getting back with that boy?”
“Why do you want me to settle for a cheater?”
Bill’s face rippled with displeasure. “Boys will be boys. He says he won’t do it again.”
Why’d she expect her dad to think affairs were deal breakers? How often had she walked in on her mom crying?
“It’s my personal life.” If she said it enough, would he believe her?
“You’re twenty-six, Josie. I can’t have you running around town single. You need a guy in your life to take care of you.”
A guy in her life taking care of her didn’t sound like a bad thing.
But from what Josie had witnessed, Bill and Gage expected her to meet all of their needs and do everything they said.
Gage was a future she could still get away from.
She couldn’t bring herself to leave her father.
She loved him, despite all his many, many flaws. What would he do without her?
“We need to talk about your books, Dad.”
He shrugged. “There’s ups and downs. We’ll go back up soon.”
Had there ever been an up? Bill was relying more and more on his shady hobby to float his legit business.
Still, she pressed. “We still haven’t sat down to discuss a budget for Alvarez Automotive. All I need to know is what you want to buy to restore and how much you think you could get for it once it’s done. I can figure out the details. Once we have…”
He was staring out the window. Ignoring her again.
She tightened her hand around the pen. “You gave me this job and I can help you, but you have to let me.”
His brows drew down. “You’re my daughter. I help you, you don’t help me.” He stood and adjusted his waistband. “What’s this about Jesse’s court date and you planning to be there?”
Her stomach sank. Jesse must’ve talked to him. She hadn’t planned on mentioning anything until the morning she was leaving.
“It’s on the fifteenth and yes, I’d like to be there.” Her brother was the one guy in her life she felt like Josie Alvarez around, yet he had epically fucked up and she was on her own.
Bill growled. “I always knew that boy would be trouble. Told your mother she coddled him too much.”
Josie agreed. Bill had raised Jesse like his own—while constantly pointing out that Jesse didn’t share his gene pool. While Bill was a chauvinist and had atrocious business ethics, he wasn’t the most horrible father, so it could’ve been worse.