Chapter 8
RAQUEL
The diesel workshop out back was my kingdom.
Most people preferred working up front where the air-conditioning occasionally functioned and customers brought in easier jobs, like sedans, but not me.
I liked the heavy stuff, the engines that sounded angry and the trucks held together by the fear of getting deeper into debt.
I was working on an alternator replacement, crawled halfway into the engine bay of a Freightliner, and it was my version of paradise. Reaching deeper into the engine compartment, I tightened a bolt into place while sweat rolled slowly down the back of my neck.
The AC unit in the diesel bay had been struggling all week, which meant I was drenched in sweat and slightly hostile, but still in my happy place. I was so focused that I barely registered all the different voices drifting from the main shop until I heard a tell-tale, familiar laugh.
Theo.
I straightened too fast, immediately cracking the back of my head against the raised hood. “Son of a biscuit.”
Luis barked out a laugh from nearby. “You okay over there?”
“Mind your own business,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my skull.
Awesome. Because there’s nothing sexier than self-inflicted workplace injuries.
Finally climbing out from under the hood, I couldn’t even pretend I hadn’t heard that laugh—or that I didn’t suddenly feel ridiculously aware of myself, wearing stained coveralls with my sleeves tied around my waist. My tank top was streaked with grease and my hair was pulled back, but I could feel it was a mess without even checking the mirror.
Hell, I probably had dirt streaked across my face too. All very unladylike. But I’d never been super girly, and usually, I didn’t care. When Theo walked out into the diesel bay with Avery and Dad, I suddenly became painfully conscious of it all.
Heat climbed unexpectedly up my throat when his gaze landed on me, roving slowly across the length of my body before his eyes met mine. Girly or not, it definitely made me feel a certain type of way to be checked out like that, but then I realized that I was actually blushing.
No. No, I’m not. The AC’s broken, I told myself. It’s ninety degrees in October. This is an environmental flush, not a girly blush.
A faint smile spread his lips, but he slid his hands into his pockets and finally averted his gaze to glance at my brother instead. “So, I see I’ve found the scary part of the shop. Is this the inner sanctum?”
I crossed my arms. “What’s so scary about diesel engines?”
“Nothing. Let’s just say I respect a woman who could kill me with power tools.”
Avery chuckled. “Smart man, and yes. This is the inner sanctum, but don’t tell anyone. It’s Raquel’s domain. She’ll kill anyone who comes in here and messes up her space.”
“Don’t you know it.” I wiped my hands on a rag and inclined my chin at Theo. “What happened? Or did you three just come out here for a social visit?”
Dad grinned. “I’m always happy to hang out with my baby girl.”
“Oh my God, Dad, not in front of customers,” I said, feeling like I was back in middle school.
Avery sighed and scrubbed a palm over his jaw. “We’re going to need to get creative with the bike.”
I frowned. “Why?”
Avery held up a small metal component between two fingers. “This is the replacement part they sent, but it doesn’t fit.”
My eyes slid shut. “They sent us the wrong part? For God’s sake.”
“No, it’s worse than that,” Dad explained. “They discontinued manufacturing the original for this model a long time ago.”
“So what we need, they’re not making anymore?” I opened my eyes for the sole and express purpose of narrowing them at him. “Is that really what you’re saying?”
“Yes.” Avery tossed the now useless part onto a workbench and dragged both hands through his hair. “I’ve called around and no one has one of these parts available, but the size difference means that using one manufactured for a newer model isn’t going to work as a replacement.”
Theo cocked a hip against the bench, not looking like he quite understood that we were discussing the mechanical equivalent of organ failure. That dark hair swept slightly across one side of his forehead, his eyes relaxed and bright.
“On the upside, I’ve learned a lot about patience recently,” Theo said. “We could just keep calling around and hope that eventually someone has what we need.”
“That’s unlikely,” I said, giving it to him straight. “You’re taking this news exceptionally well for someone who might not leave here with a working bike.”
He inhaled deeply. “I’m trying to work on accepting the things I cannot change.”
Dad dropped onto the corner of the workbench with a grim expression on his face.
The second I saw it, my heart started aching for Theo.
I knew that expression, and it never brought good news.
“The only thing you have to accept is that without this specific component, there’s no easy way to get the bike running again. ”
“No easy way,” Theo repeated, emphasizing the word. “That means there is still a way?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “If we can figure something else out, but if not, your bike is done.”
Theo swallowed so hard, the elegant column of his throat moved up and down. “When you say done…”
Avery pointed at the pile of scrap metal outside the bay doors. “I mean done, as in, it’s toast. It’ll be joining that graveyard over there. Or you could sell it for parts or make it a lawn ornament, I suppose.”
“No way,” Theo said without skipping a beat, his head shaking hard and fast from one side to the other. “We’ll fix it. We have to.”
“That machine is older than some governments,” I said. “Are you really so attached to it that you won’t even consider a new one?”
“I am,” he admitted, completely shameless about it. “It’s a classic.”
“Yeah, but classic also means rare. And they’re rare because they’re too old to keep running.” I swiped sweat from my brow. “Replacement parts are hard to find.”
He shook his head again. “Martha isn’t done. You’ll see. She’s going to surprise us all.”
Dad clapped him on the shoulder before he started backing out. “Speaking of things that are too old to keep running, I’m going inside to sit for a bit. But, Theo, if anyone can help you figure it out, it’s these two. They’re the best chance you’ve got. Good luck, kids.”
Once he was gone, Avery slid his hands into his pockets as he eyed the part still lying on the workbench. “A fix isn’t impossible. It’ll be complicated and it might not hold forever, but we can try to figure out some kind of workaround.”
“What about your friend?” Theo asked. “The one you said specialized in these bikes?”
I grimaced. “Phil is good. He’s great, actually, but he’s also by the book. Creative engineering isn’t really his thing.”
“If we call him about this, he’s going to tell you to sell and buy something newer,” Avery finished for me. “He’ll offer to help you find a buyer and he will find one, but he won’t try to fix this. Not with the actual part we need no longer available anywhere.”
When I glanced back at Theo, there was a stubborn gleam in his eyes, something that told me he was serious about not letting this bike go. It wasn’t entitlement, though. I doubted he expected us to fix this just because he wanted it done. This looked more like genuine attachment to me.
“It has to be this bike,” he said a moment later. “I know I can buy a new one and I realize Martha might end up being an expensive lawn ornament no matter what, but we can try. I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done to get her back on the road.”
I nodded slowly, finally swiping up the component Avery had dropped on the workbench and turning it over in my hand. Design was one of my passions, and usually, I was pretty good at it. This, however, really would be complicated.
As I mentally weighed the options that sprang to mind, Avery suddenly grinned. “You already have an idea, don’t you?”
“No,” I said before he could give Theo hope where there wasn’t much of it to be had. “I don’t know. Maybe, but even if I do, it probably won’t work.”
I rubbed the metal with grease-streaked fingers, squinting at the part while Avery looked like he was ready to burst into a victory dance. “She has an idea, man. This is great.”
“No, I don’t,” I insisted, but I did. It just wasn’t perfect and it definitely wouldn’t be approved by any manufacturer with half a legal department. “Give me some time.”
If I redesign the housing and modify the mounting alignment?—
Avery leaned against the workbench, studying me with that confident grin still on his face, prematurely triumphant for sure. “Okay, we’ll give you time, but you can make it work. I know it.”
Theo’s eyes met mine when I looked back up. “Whatever you can do, I appreciate it.”
Oh, for fuck’s… “Fine. I’ll try, but don’t get your hopes up. Your insurance isn’t going to like it even if I do manage to make it work, and even then, there’s no guarantee it’ll get you more than ten miles before it all blows up in our faces.”
“I’ll take those odds,” he said, looking at me like he had all the faith in the world, those eyes hovering on mine for just a second too long. “Thanks, Raquel.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I grumbled, desperate for him not to figure out that having him look at me like that was making me feel things again. “Can I go back to work now?”
He smiled, nodding before he followed Avery to the doors, but right before he disappeared into the shop, he glanced back at me over his shoulder.
Our gazes clashed and held for just a second, but that stupid flutter sparked to life in my chest all over again, the useless organ still going wild even long after he’d already left.
Theo Whatever-his-last-name-is was going to be the death of me, but the worst part was that I wasn’t even sure I would mind. There was something about him that made me feel things I wasn’t convinced I had ever felt before, and as annoying as it was, at least it was also making me feel alive again.