Chapter 2
SUTTON
Two Years Later
Sterling Springs, New Mexico
My grip on the handle tightens and I try harder to turn the wrench.
This stupid rusted bolt has been giving me fits for almost half an hour and my neck is sore from craning my head to reach it.
I know better than to complain about working on a car that’s up on a professional mechanics lift, especially a newer, state-of-the-art one like this, but the work is still backbreaking.
I roll my neck, trying to loosen my stiff muscles before giving it one more go.
I put my body weight into trying to loosen this annoyingly stubborn piece of metal so we can fix the brakes. Instead of the bolt coming loose, my hand slips off. My knuckles slam into sharp metal under the old car sending searing pain through my hand.
“Son of a bitch,” I hiss through gritted teeth, grabbing my clenched fist. The wrench hits the concrete floor of the garage, clanging loudly. My brother rushes over from the other side of our family’s garage, joining me under the lift.
“You alright?”
I glare at Sly. “Does it look like I’m alright?”
I hold up my hand, turning it toward him. There’s a slow trickle of blood flowing out of at least two of my knuckles.
My younger brother lets out an exasperated sigh, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Shit. I’ll go grab the first aid kit, dumbass.”
I try to wave him off, but he ignores me and heads toward the back of the auto repair shop. A minute later, he’s back in front of me with a bottle of disinfectant and roll of bandages in hand.
“I know I’ve said this before, but you don’t have to be here all the time.” His eyes meet mine with an annoyed look.
“If I went back to the house and grabbed Dad, would he be able to fix those brakes?”
Sly huffs a laugh. “Fuck no. He would have pulled a muscle before he even got a wrench on that bolt.”
“Then I still need to be here to help.”
Every spring, it seems like the garage always gets a rush of customers.
It’s almost always a mix of tourists coming to visit the hot springs near town, or others just passing through on their way to Taos or Sante Fe to see the art galleries New Mexico is known for.
Either way, they seem to underestimate how bad the roads are in rural areas like this and they inevitably end up here since we’re the only place for miles when they need something fixed.
This May is no exception. The garage is so slammed, they’ve barely been keeping up.
I look back at Sly to find that he’s giving me a death stare so eerily similar to our older brother, Slade, that I almost flinch.
“No, you don’t. I can take care of this place.”
I always admire my younger brother’s loyalty to our family and our hometown.
While Slade and I moved away to pursue our careers in the restaurant industry, Sly stayed in Sterling Springs—the town that bares our name because our family founded it over a century ago.
He helps our younger sister, Sisi, run the motel with Mom and he’s worked at the repair shop with Dad for years.
The last couple of years, he’s stepped up as Dad’s arthritis has gotten worse and our crazy Uncle Dan retired.
At this point, he’s only helpful running the front desk and handling quotes and orders.
I’ll give Sly credit, because he never plays the martyr card.
Just like Slade and me, Sly is fucking stubborn and willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people he cares about, no questions asked.
So I know better than to argue with him right now.
Instead, I grab the bottle of disinfectant from him, popping the cap open.
I pour the cool liquid over my knuckles, wincing the second it hits the fresh wound.
Yep. That’s going to leave another scar.
He chuckles. “You know they make mechanics gloves for a reason, right?”
“I like to feel the tool in my hand.” It’s the same reason I never wear knife-safe gloves in the kitchen. Tools and knives—they’re an extension of me and I want to feel every possible sensation and connection to what I’m working with that I can.
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes, setting the roll of self-adhesive bandages on the nearby tool chest. “Just try and be more careful next time. If you keep hurting yourself, you’ll do more harm than good.”
Part of me wants to remind him that I was working on cars years before he was. Slade and I worked all through high school for Dad at the shop, and we still can both hold our own when it comes to wrenching.
His phone chimes in his pocket, and he pulls it out. I don’t know what that notification was, but his mood changes entirely. He quickly tucks his phone away and looks back at me.
“Don’t you have a flight to catch? You need to get cleaned up and get going.”
I groan, wiping off my knuckles and grabbing the roll of bandages. As much as I’m annoyed with him, he’s right.
I always book the last Tuesday afternoon flight out of Taos.
It’s an hour away and I still have to connect through Salt Lake City, but it’s still the fastest way to get back to Jackson so I can be there to run the restaurant during the week.
Driving is an option, and I do it sometimes, but it’s a full day on the road and most of the time, I just don’t have the hours in the week to spare.
“Yeah, you’re right. I still need to stop by the house and grab my bag. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”
“Good. Sisi was looking for you earlier.”
I groan, finishing the last wrap of bandages over my knuckles. “Let me guess. Wedding stuff?”
He smirks. “Yeah. She’s getting awfully close to going full bridezilla.”
I snort a laugh. “I still can’t believe our little Sierra is going to be the first to get married. Summer is sneaking up fast.”
Sly’s eyes drop and he laughs half heartedly. “Yeah. That’s something alright.” I know from his tone that I probably just opened an old wound. “She’s excited.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “Now get going. I’ll clean up here.”
I nod and walk through the garage into the morning air. It immediately smells like home. Or at least what was home.
Growing up here and spending countless hours at the shop, we always had the doors open to let that fresh air in if we could.
Walking through the parking lot toward my rental car, I see the old food truck.
While helping my family might be the main reason I’m here, I’ve made sure that every time I’m in town I spend at least a couple hours tinkering on my passion project.
I didn’t get to it this trip, but it’s getting closer to being done.
I rub my thumb and forefinger into my temples, trying to will myself to wake up.
Sly was right. Sisi was in full freakout bride mode yesterday and I just made it to the airport in time to catch my flight.
After that, my connecting flight to Jackson was delayed and I didn’t get back to my place until after midnight.
Now I find myself sitting on an oversized chair at Cowgirl Coffee, looking at Slade and our business partner slash my best friend, TJ, on the couch across from me.
I was coming back last night anyway, but I also needed to be here for this meeting about our next restaurant that Slade is opening.
“Where is our coffee?” I groan, still massaging my forehead.
Staying up all night baking when I got home might not have been my wisest choice, but I can take a nap once this meeting is over.
TJ laughs. “God I love seeing you when you’re not your normal, chipper self.”
I shoot him a shit-eating grin. “Chipper? Way to remind me you’re a decade older than me.”
“A decade that he spent aging like fine wine.” A way too perky female voice chimes in. I look up to see Grace walking over from the counter with our drinks in a carrier. “Make all the old man jokes, but forty-two looks good on him.”
She sets the carrier down on the coffee table and curls into her husband’s lap.
Husband—that’s still weird to say. He was obsessed with her for months, but it still surprised all of us when they got married one night in Nevada.
In his classic retired rockstar turned investor and philanthropist way though, everything about it seems fitting.
I remember when I first met him after Gloria’s first opened.
He would come in at least once a week and sit at my tasting counter all night.
Eventually, that turned into fishing and skiing together and finally business partners with my brother.
He was a mopey mess until she dove into his life.
Looking at them now, I’m happy for him. They go together perfectly.
She plucks his drink out of the carrier and hands it to him.
“Thanks, Rainbow.” He gives her a quick kiss and she sinks into his arms.
“Can we get back to business?” We all look over to Slade who has his tablet out, turning it to face us. “I have to be back in Seattle tonight and still need to run a few things by you.”
I roll my eyes and nod. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Slade starts going over the build schedule, permits, and every other minute detail for the new restaurant in Seattle.
It’s not exactly an easy city to deal with for permitting and inspections, but shockingly everything is on track.
Actually, I’m not surprised that it’s on schedule, because Slade is running a tight ship like he always does.
I don’t know how he manages to pull it off.
While I run Gloria’s here in Jackson, he’s running the restaurants in Denver and Park City on top of managing the build out of the new one.
Even with the catering business I run for Gloria’s on the side, it’s nothing compared to what he puts himself through.
That’s a brutal workload for anyone. The restaurant business is hard enough when it’s going well, but adding on the stress of opening another is a whole different animal.
We might be on schedule to open when we planned, but that still doesn’t mean it’s been easy going exactly.
Looking at my brother, I can see the signs of it catching up even if he does his best to hide it with his intense attention to details.
If he’s not careful, he’s going to burn himself out and take me with him.
The sound of clattering dishes pulls my attention away from him.
My eyes go right to the source of the noise, a reflex from spending years in busy kitchens.
At the counter on the other side of the coffee shop, Monica is struggling with a stack of saucers.
I watch as she carefully sets them down, but I still don’t see any sign of her best friend, the shadow that’s haunted me for the last two years.
She’s normally the one that’s here first thing in the morning to open up, but when I got here I was surprised to find Monica alone. Looking at my phone, she must be at least half an hour late.
“Hey.” Slade’s gruff, deep voice pulls my mind back to the conversation. “Are you paying attention to any of this?”
“Sorry,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee. “Just a long day yesterday.”
My brother seems to accept that, but I don’t miss how TJ and Grace look to the counter, then back to me.
“Well, I think we covered everything anyway.” Slade folds the cover of his tablet shut and tucks it into his messenger bag. He gets up and I follow him to the door to see him out.
He opens the door, but doesn’t step out. Instead, he turns and gives me a nervous glance.
“I know you’ve got stuff going on here and you’re helping back at home, but I’m going to need you in Seattle with your full attention eventually.”
Looking into his eyes, I finally see the first crack in his carefully crafted wall of control.
I nod. “I know. I’ll be there when it’s time.”
He nods and fist bumps me.
“Good. I’ll see you soon.”
After he leaves, I head back to my seat across from TJ and Grace.
“Does your brother ever take a break?” Grace asks, looking at me over her steaming cup of tea. She’s still draped over TJ’s lap, who chuckles at her question.
“I don’t think he’s physically capable of relaxing,” I say, slumping down into the oversized, leather chair again.
I grab my coffee and wince, feeling just how sore my hand is after yesterday. I switch my cup to my other and shake it out.
TJ tips his chin at my hand. “Speaking of relaxing, are you going to stop beating yourself up like that? You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends.”
I’m about to tell him that I don’t really have a choice when another familiar sound cuts across the room. I turn to see the big, and frankly scary looking, German Shepherd weaving through the customers and chairs in the coffee shop, beelining right for me.
A smile spreads across my face and I brace for what I already know is coming.
“Oh, Felix,” I laugh as he jumps into my lap and pins me back in the chair.
He’s completely unaware that it’s insane for a ninety pound dog to jump in my lap like this, but I don’t care.
I breathe a sigh of relief because I know that if he’s here, it means she got here safe and is probably behind the counter trying to avoid me.
I scratch him behind his ears as he licks my forehead. “Who’s my favorite boy?”