Epilogue
FIVE YEARS LATER
Bailey
The compressor shut off, and I turned, dragging down my face mask as I did.
Flynn stood in the doorway. His arms strained the short sleeves of his black T-shirt, the tattoo he’d gotten on our one-year anniversary peeking out, depicting an eight ball with my name on it. Flynn liked to say that when he met me, it was game over. I’d won.
Behind him, the original auto shop had gone quiet. When we expanded to add restoration, we’d decided to build a separate bay to keep the noise and fumes of body and paint work from impacting the others too much.
I worked on both sides—because a lot of restoration projects required some mechanical fixes too. But I also did my share of knocking out dents and replacing taillights after a little too much fender love.
“It’s looking good,” Flynn said, eyeing the car. “A little flamboyant for my tastes, but…”
“Yeah, well, you don’t need a car to turn heads.”
He grinned, eyes sparkling. “No?”
I checked the wall clock, a rusty-looking gear with a clock face inside. It was past quitting time.
“Sorry. Didn’t realize it was so late.”
I started putting away equipment, and Flynn joined me.
“You were in the zone.”
“My bad. I get focused, and the world disappears.”
He chuckled. “You love this shit, so it’s a forgivable offense. Gotta say, watching you do your thing is hot.”
I turned my head a fraction, just in time to get a searing kiss. Flynn gripped my face in two large hands and swept his tongue inside.
He was more aggressive than he’d been when we first got together. There was a confidence in him that had developed with time that was sexy as hell. Once Flynn gave himself permission to have everything he wanted, he had stopped holding back.
He grabbed my hips and pushed me backward.
I tore my mouth free. “Not the car!”
“Shit,” he rumbled, yanking me in tight against his hard body to avoid ruining the paint job I’d just done.
I laughed as he crushed me into his pecs.
“Sorry. Got carried away.”
I peeked up at him. “You can carry me away anytime.”
“Hold that thought. First, we have dinner with your brothers.”
I groaned. “Boner killer.”
He pulled back, taking my hand to tug me along after him. “Let’s pick this up again later.”
“You can pick me up again later,” I teased.
“I see what you did there,” he said. “You know I never object to fucking you against a wall. Or over a table. Or hell, we could get creative and use the bed.”
I paused to lock up. “You innovator! Never would have thought of that one.”
“Mm,” he said. “Of course, we could come back to the shop when it’s closed…”
I glanced over. “Yeah? You got a mechanic fantasy or something?
“I’ve got a Bailey fantasy.”
I smirked. “That’s a given. You can’t keep your hands off my ass.”
He swatted my ass, which was half the reason I’d said it. “Brat. I seem to remember indulging your college dorm fantasy.”
“Fair,” I said with a chuckle. “Okay, Flynn. You know I’d never deny you. Fuck me in the shop. Just never tell my brothers.”
“Got it.”
“Not even Axel,” I said, because they’d become super tight the past couple of years.
Flynn drew a cross over his heart with a finger as we made our way to the two dirt bikes parked just outside. We’d built a house just beyond Axel and Dalton’s two years ago, and it was a bit of a walk.
I kick-started the motor, and Flynn did the same beside me, and we jolted over bumpy ground toward our cute little bungalow.
There was already a collection of bikes leaning against the back fence. We were late for dinner with my brothers. Oops.
Flynn opened the gate, and I went through first. Sugar trotted up, tongue lolling out, to greet me. Loki and Oreo both raced toward Flynn, bouncing around excitedly.
Flynn crouched down to give them love. Ever since his days spent working at the junkyard, he’d been one of the dogs’ favorite people.
“Finally,” Axel complained. “I thought maybe you ditched us to fuck in the shop.”
Flynn and I exchanged a look.
“You did!” Axel crowed.
“Did not!”
Just almost.
I jogged across the yard. “I got caught up on a paint job. Flynn had to yank me out of the zone. I can order pizza or pick up takeout or something?”
“I already fired up the grill,” Dalton said. “Don’t worry about it.”
He stood at a big gas grill in the center of a stone paver patio that connected our house to his. We’d created a huge outdoor cooking and eating space between them because Dalton loved to grill.
He’d do it year-round when we let him, which was why we also had a big fire pit, but today, the weather was mild, just a hint of breeze, even though it was already early November.
A big octagonal picnic table sat in the center of the patio, with seating for eight people. Axel was setting out plates and silverware with a little help from Emory.
“It was our turn to cook,” Flynn said. “Sorry.”
Dalton waved a spatula. “No worries. I had some great steaks to throw on. Just pick up a night for me sometime when work keeps me out late.”
“All right,” Flynn said, “you got it.”
Holden and Shiloh emerged from the back door of the house with a few extra beer bottles. Holden passed one to me and Flynn.
“Still feels weird to give you beer,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Still the baby, though,” Shiloh teased.
I sighed dramatically. There was no escaping being the youngest child. My family would always treat me like a little brother.
Holden had eased up a lot, letting me make my own decisions when I pursued a certification in auto restoration, and he’d taken my ideas seriously when we expanded the business. But he’d never stop trying to look out for me, and maybe I didn’t totally mind, as long as he respected my opinions.
And my brothers occasionally had to pull my ass out of the fire over at Ball Breakers.
The new owners had expanded, adding even more pool tables, so I got my fill of play time whenever I wanted.
I was a lot less cavalier about hustling people, but there were always a few guys who couldn’t handle losing, even if I warned them up front that I was going to beat them.
Liquor and competitiveness didn’t always mix.
Flynn wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “You’re a grown-ass man to me,” he murmured in my ear. “I’ll show you later.”
I perked up at the thought, suddenly in a hurry to get dinner over with so Flynn and I could move on to the rest of the night. Of course, that was a ways off just yet.
Dalton was still grilling the steak. I sat down at the table, across from Axel and Holden, and beside Shiloh and Emory. Flynn wandered over to chat up Dalton while he grilled.
I sipped my beer. “So, did you start that new guy at the junkyard?”
“Yup,” Axel said. “He’s a beast. Got tons of work done.”
“Oh, cool. So Redemption Road came through again, huh?”
“Yeah,” Axel said. “That program has sure as fuck made it easier to manage the pet rescue. It’s taking up a lot more of my time these days.”
“Yeah, you got any new pups?” I asked.
Flynn and I were casually waiting for the right pet to come along. Axel was too damn good at placing them, though. We wanted to foster an animal that was struggling to find a second chance, so we let Axel reach out to his usual contacts first.
So far, we’d struck out.
“Actually, I’ve got a high-strung Weimaraner that isn’t placing easily. She chews nonstop, though.”
“We’ll take her,” Flynn said behind me.
I nodded. “What’s her name?”
“Greta.”
“Cute. Love it.”
“Yeah, you’ll love it until she chews up all your shoes,” he said.
“I’m not worried. You’re right next door. If Greta is too tough to handle, we’ll just return her to sender.”
“Very funny. You know it doesn’t work that way.”
“I know! It was a joke. I’ll call you over to give me tips.”
He nodded. “Oh, hey, tell Nova I’ve got a tuxedo kitten if she’s still looking.”
“Oh, awesome.” I pulled out my phone to text my oldest friend. “She’ll be excited.”
Nova had earned her bachelor’s and moved back to Riverton to take a job as a dental hygienist. I kept in touch with Sebastian and Iris, too, via a group chat. A quick glance showed a series of silly workout memes Seb had sent.
Seb:
Loving a fitness freak is hard work
Bailey:
You love every second of it.
Iris:
Yeah, stop bragging ;)
I laughed softly and tucked my phone away and picked up my beer. We made small talk while we waited for the steaks to finish.
Emory was excited about a big back piece he was starting work on at the tattoo parlor.
Once he’d gotten to actually ink people, he’d been hooked for life.
He said it was more addictive than getting tattooed.
Now that he was an artist, he’d picked up a bit of ink—though not even close to as much as Gray or Axel had over the years.
“Of course, Gray might disagree,” Emory said. “That man loves getting tattoos. I’ve done three for him in the past six months. Not that I’m complaining. I’d ink every inch of skin if he let me.”
He bit his bottom lip, looking a little flushed. Time to change the subject.
“Where is Gray, anyway?” I asked, glancing around the yard.
“He went in to make a quick salad,” Emory said, “but that was a while ago. Bathroom break, maybe?”
“I want another beer anyway,” I offered, getting up. “I’ll go make sure he didn’t fall in. Who else needs another drink?”
A chorus of answers rang out in the yard. Everyone was thirsty tonight.
Axel got up. “I better go help you carry all those.”
We headed for the back door of his house and let ourselves in.
Loki and Oreo tried to follow, but we shut them out, knowing they’d just get under our feet.
Sugar was busy enjoying a luxurious pet session with Emory, and Banshee stayed put by Holden’s feet, content to wait for nibbles to rain to the ground during dinner.
Holden spoiled her rotten, and I was sure he fed her extra bites of his dinner.