Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
OLIVIA
These men. Some of them don’t know when to call it quits. Wilder, Liam, and Sawyer watch me, amusement gleaming in their gazes as I pack up a reusable grocery bag with food, water, and hydrating sports drinks.
“What am I missing? Oh! Dessert. Of course, how could I forget?”
Wilder pops open a cabinet. “Don’t tell Hayes I know where his secret stash is.
” He retrieves a few items before pulling out a well-hidden box of snack cakes.
“These are his favorite.” Wilder’s tattoo shop is closed tonight, and normally his brother is home by now, but he’s not.
Which means he’s working hard and probably starving.
Exhaling in relief, I nod. “Perfect. Give me two.” Hayes needs fuel.
“Two? What if I want one?”
I give him a look. “You had dinner and pie already. Your brother, on the other hand, hasn’t.” Which is exactly why I’m going to feed him.
“She makes a good point,” Sawyer says. “Besides, those are Hayes’s. You shouldn’t be eating them.”
Liam agrees. “You know how he gets when you eat them.”
Wilder sighs. “Fine, but I’m buying my own box the next time we go to the store.”
The bag I’m loading is almost bursting. I check to make sure I have everything I need, utensils included, and then nod. “Okay. I’ll be back later with Hayes.” I’m not sure how I’ll convince him, but I’ll think of something.
The guys each give me a kiss, Liam catching my lips last. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“I can’t believe he’s still working.” The sun set hours ago.
“Go easy on him,” Wilder says. “He’s working on a big project, and sometimes he gets in the zone. He may not even realize what time it is.”
Wilder is off today, but typically it’s him I’m worrying about. Hayes is usually pretty good about coming home in time for dinner. All the more reason to go make sure he’s taking care of himself.
“Text us when you get there,” Sawyer says as they walk me outside.
Since I knew I was staying the night, I brought my car.
I half expected the guys to demand they drive me.
Luckily, they’re not that overbearing. I don’t think I’d like it if they refused to let me drive.
I’m perfectly capable. The only reason I let Nigel drive me is because he’s been doing it for so long and he’d be personally offended if I refused to let him be my chauffeur.
They watch me get in the car and stand at the curb as I pull away with a wave, so overprotective it makes my chest warm.
It’s nice to have a pack that cares about me.
At ten o’clock, the streets are mostly empty.
The shop is only a fifteen-minute drive, and soon enough, I park next to the open bay and climb out with the bag in tow.
Hayes didn’t even notice my arrival. I frown.
I hope he’s okay. We’re not in a bad part of town, but there are still plenty of people who would see the open bay as an opportunity.
He should be more careful. Rock music escorts me inside the shop.
Grease and the sting of citrusy hand sanitizer hang heavy in the air, but I catch my alpha’s chocolatey scent underneath those.
The sound of a ratchet carries from beneath an old Porsche on jacks. The body of the car is suffering from a bad paint job, but otherwise, it’s in good shape. I stop at the tall toolbox, set the food down, and pause the music coming from his phone.
Hayes grumbles and rolls out from under the car. “What the fu—Liv?”
I plant my hands on my hips. “Did you eat?”
Standing in one swift movement, Hayes towers over me and wipes his grease-covered hands on a red rag. “I was coming home for dinner soon.” He glances at the clock on the wall. “Oh, shit.”
“Uh-huh. It’s late.” My alpha is perspiring, and there’s a grease stain on his cheek. He’s been working hard. “But I brought you food.” I grab a clean rag from the stack on the toolbox. There’s a handwashing station to the left, and I use it to dampen the rag.
Hayes watches me but doesn’t say a word as I wring out the water and turn, approaching him with my gaze set on that dark stain on his cheek. His breath catches when I rise on my toes and hold his chin with one hand.
My eyes meet his. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he rasps.
Nodding, I clean the grease off, careful not to be too abrasive on the delicate skin. “There.” Before I can lower to my heels, Hayes dives in for a quick kiss, making me gasp in surprise. “What was that for?” I ask when he pulls back.
“Because I wanted to,” he says, his focus sliding to the bag of food. “What did you bring?”
“Your dinner,” I tell him, lowering to my heels and grabbing the bag. “Is there a break room?” He nods and starts to lead me away, but I catch his arm. “Maybe you should close the garage door.”
“Good call.” He presses the button, and the door begins to lower. “Maybe I should hire you.”
I chuckle. “I don’t have the muscle.”
“That can be gained.”
“I don’t know if grease looks as good on me as it does on you.”
He smirks at me over his shoulder. “It would.”
My cheeks heat, but if he notices, Hayes doesn’t say a word. He holds the door to the main lobby open. There’s a small break room in the back with a table and four chairs, a microwave, a coffee pot that’s seen better days, and a mini fridge.
The bag crinkles when I set it down. “I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for. I brought the soup Wilder made tonight, a sandwich, and leftover spaghetti.”
“And my snack cakes?” He reaches for one.
I grab it and set it where he can’t reach. “Dinner first.”
Laughing, the sound deep and full, he concedes. “Whatever you say, vixen. I’ll take the soup and sandwich.”
“I’m not sure why you call me that,” I confess. “I’m not very sexy.”
“I think you are,” he murmurs, hand finding my hip. “The thing that makes you so sexy is the fact that you have no idea that you are.”
Pressing my eyebrows together, I glance at him. “That makes no sense.”
He shrugs. “Does it have to? I’m attracted to you, isn’t that enough?”
“I guess.” I place the soup in the microwave and set the time. “But there has to be some universal trait that defines sexiness. Biology is very clear about these things. Take birds, for example—”
“Birds?”
I nod. “Birds. The prettiest males attract the most mates.”
“You’re pretty.”
Averting my gaze, I continue. “According to my mother, I’m not.”
“Liv. Look at me.”
Slowly, I shift my eyes to meet his. His serious expression makes me swallow. He closes the distance between us, and I have to tip my head to maintain eye contact. “You. Are. Beautiful.”
“I—”
He silences me with a kiss. My pulse starts to race, blood roaring through my ears. “No. There’s no debate. Forget whatever your mother said. You’re gorgeous. Okay?”
My cheeks were already warm, but now they’re practically on fire. “Okay.” How can I argue with him when he’s so convincing?
Humming, he searches my face, as if memorizing every part. “Don’t let someone who clearly doesn’t understand your worth change your opinion of yourself.”
The microwave dings and he steps back. A chill races down my spine, and I long for the heat from his body. He gives me a knowing look, and my stomach does a little flip. These men met me weeks ago, yet I can’t help feeling like they know me better than I know myself.
I grab the soup, steam curling from the glass bowl. He takes a seat, and I sit beside him, handing him a spoon. “Eat.”
“So demanding,” he mumbles, but his lips twitch as he accepts the spoon.
While he eats, I study the break room. There’s a car calendar, a clock, and a few pictures. “Who’s that?”
Hayes follows my pointed finger, spoon full of soup. “My dad and his friend Ryan.” He slurps up the soup with a groan. “God, Wilder is a good cook.”
“You both are. Who taught you?”
“Our mom. She was always in the kitchen.” He smiles, lost in a memory. “Christmas was always the best. She’d bake a dozen different cookies, pies. More food than any of us could eat.”
“She sounds nice.”
“She is, my dads are great too. Our parents are pretty supportive.”
I frown. What is that like?
He notices. “You know you don’t need her approval, right?”
Sighing, I push the sandwich toward him. “Yes. It would be nice to have it, though. What got you into cars?”
The subject change doesn’t go unnoticed, but he lets it slide.
Hayes always seems to understand what I need, and I love that about him.
“I took shop class in high school, and something clicked. Math and English were never really interesting. Changing oil and tires? That was cool. Eventually, that led to building engines, and when graduation came around, I knew I wanted to go into the industry. My dads convinced me to get a degree in automotive technology, and good thing I did, because I don’t know how I’d manage a shop without it. ”
“There were business courses built in?”
He nods. “Enough for me to understand what I was getting into when I decided it was time to start my own place. Wild and I had a great aunt, well, we didn’t really know her, but she left us a very small fortune. I used mine to start Restoration & Autocare.”
Humming, I let him take a few bites, mulling over his history and trying to picture him as a greasy teenage boy in auto shop, living his dream.
The visual fits my big guy. Wilder has a bit of a bad boy aura wrapped around his golden retriever personality, but Hayes?
He’s steady in the storm. A little stoic and hard to read when you first meet him, but now that I know him better, I realize he’s as witty as his brother.
Wilder is only more vocal with his quips.
“Why are you smiling?” Hayes takes a bite of his sandwich, leaning back and searching my face.
“I was trying to picture you and Wilder as kids.”
“Oh?”