Breaking Even (The Sterling Shore Series #5)

by C. M. Owens

  Maggie chokes on something when she overhears the tail-end of that conversation on her way to grab her laptop.

  Ah, hell. That’s going to take some explaining.

  Rye just laughs and leaves the full explanation on my very tired shoulders. I have to be at work at five, he’s just now leaving, and Maggie is about to interrogate the hell out of me.

  As soon as the door is shut for a full five seconds, Maggie drops to a chair and stares expectantly. “Details. All of them. Don’t leave anything out.”

  Chapter 6

  RYE

  “I want to pay you back,” Brin argues, following me around my office as Wrench works on her car. I refuse to let her go down to the work area, even though she’s begged. Numerous times.

  “I’ve already said no. I told you I had the parts on hand. It’s not like very many of my customers have vehicles to match those parts. They’ll just be wasted.”

  It’s a complete and total lie. The car would have been fixed by now if I had already had the parts on hand. I’m still waiting on two parts to come in, because I just ordered them yesterday. Wrench keeps finding more shit wrong every time he digs a little deeper. But she can’t know that.

  “I’m paying. Now let me go see it,” she demands.

  “Not happening.”

  “Why?” She acts as though I haven’t already gone over this ten times with her.

  I walk over to her, lean down so that I’m in her face, and meet her mean little scowl that I happen to find pretty damn cute.

  “Because I’m not letting you anywhere near power tools. Insurance thing.”

  She crosses her arms as I lean back up, and she tries harder to intimidate me with her glower. Not effective.

  “Well, I need my briefcase out of the back. It has a file that I need to get back tomorrow.”

  She’s relentless. But I’m not caving. She’d end up killing someone on accident if she got down there. Or she’d hurt herself, and I’d end up spending the rest of the day in the hospital waiting room.

  “Fine. I’ll go get your briefcase. You stay put. If you try to come down there, I swear I’ll haul your ass out of here over my shoulder.”

  She glares at me but finally looks away, silently admitting her defeat. I walk out and head down the steel staircase to the lower level where we keep the cars. It’s an open warehouse space, and the cars are driven in from the lower deck. There’s a higher elevation parking deck where the workers park and come in through the office area—my space.

  “You coming to inspect my work again?” Wrench asks, an amused eyebrow cocked as I open the backdoor to her car.

  Where’s the briefcase?

  “Nah, I’m looking for a briefcase. Have you seen one?”

  He wipes his hands on a towel while shaking his head. “The only thing I’ve seen are a couple of receipts. I didn’t read them, but I put them in the glove compartment so that we didn’t knock them out by mistake.”

  “We?” I ask, my eyes narrowing. “Who else has worked on this car besides you?”

  He laughs while leaning back under the hood.

  “No one. It’s a habit to say we because I’ve usually got a few other guys doing the grunt work. My bad. Any reason why this damn Camry is so important?”

  “It’s not the car I’m worried about; it’s the driver. The rest of the parts should get here early tomorrow morning.”

  He rises up and tilts his head. “Damn. You must have spent a fortune on shipping to get everything here this fast.”

  I refuse to talk about this. I could have bought her a new car for all the shit I’ve had to replace and have shipped overnight. Not to mention the tires. I got her some of the best. And I replaced her hubcaps with actual wheels.

  She wouldn’t have let me buy her a new car, and she’d flip the hell out if she knew what I’ve spent. Most people would probably get the wrong idea, since I barely know her. But I have the extra cash, and she needs to be driving around in something safe.

  “Come get me if you find anything else wrong with it. I need to get back upstairs.”

  Wrench nods as I head up to tell the fiery little girl her briefcase must be somewhere else. When I walk into my office, she’s sitting on top of my desk with her legs crossed, and an unbidden fantasy rocks through my mind.

  I really shouldn’t be picturing her leaned back as I pound into her. But all I can think about is her clawing at my back while I make her scream my name.

  I blame her. It’s all because of her straddling me last night. My mind hasn’t been right since then. I keep picturing her under me, over me, against the wall... It’s a long damn list.

  It’s probably because she made me have fun with very little beer, too much food, and a movie. In fact, it was one of the best times I’ve had in so damn long, and that makes me sound pathetic. But my mind never wandered off to things I want to forget, just like it never does when I’m with her.

  I’ve gone to resorts for weekend getaways with girls that most men would cut off their left nut just to touch—girls who wear the sexiest, most expensive lingerie and look better than the models who strut on the runway. And yet I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than get her back in her pink boxers and smurf shirt while we lounge on her uncomfortable couch.

  Brainy smurf. It wasn’t even Smurfette.

  When Maggie came in, I almost gave her a hug to thank her. Brin had been on top of me, her thighs parted as she put herself right on top of my hard-as-a-rock dick. Neither of us mentioned what she had to be feeling, and every time she rocked forward, trying to put that damn cheesecake in my mouth, my cock tried to spring free from my jeans.

  I ate the damn bite, hoping that would get her off me before I exploded in my jeans like an unpracticed virgin. I can’t remember the last time that something so small left me so damn twisted up.

  “No briefcase,” I murmur at last, shifting uncomfortably when my damn cock starts to press against my zipper.

  She shrugs, looking bored as she slowly gets off my desk. I bite back a groan when the shorts she is wearing slide up as she slides down. What the fuck is going on?

  “It must be in my room then.”

  She starts walking toward me, and I walk around, trying to keep my body angled away from her. I lower myself to the chair, happy to have my hard-on hidden—

  “What the hell?” I yelp as I crash to the floor.

  My decimated chair lies in shambles around me as I groan and try to get up. But the hellacious laughter rings out as I peek up from beside the desk to see the face of my enemy.

  She uncurls her hand to reveal all my chair’s screws, and she giggles loudly while bringing them over to the desk and putting them down.

  “That’s for leaving my mouth red and for making me beg last night,” she gloats.

  A throat clearing from behind her startles her into a squeal. A very amused Wrench stands in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, and doing all he can to restrain the insuppressible grin on his face.

  “Beg for cheesecake,” she adds quickly, horrified. “And it was food dye. That’s why my mouth was red.”

  Her cheeks turn a harsh pink, and I laugh while climbing back up to my feet. Wrench hides his grin with his hand as his body shakes with repressed laughter.

  Brin’s face turns all the redder, and she rocks back and forth on her heels and toes, looking longingly toward the exit.

  “I uh... I... I’m just going to go... die now,” she says before darting out the door, hiding her face all the way out.

  I just laugh harder as Wrench stares expectantly at me, lowering his hand from his mouth to reveal his shit-eating grin.

  “The Camry owner, I presume,” he says with thick condescension.

  “Yeah. My neighbor.”

  His laughter sneaks out as he comes to sit down in front of my desk.

  “When I was fixing the rear, I noticed the black paint. Perfect match to your Porsche that you brought in all banged up. Did you hit her or something?”
<
br />   I scowl at him. “No. She ran over my parked car.”

  His confusion is warranted. I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth.

  “And you’re paying for the damages on her car because?” he asks, prying.

  “Because she has liability only.”

  I’d like to knock that smirk off his face. He’s lucky he’s the best mechanic I’ve ever known.

  “And?” he asks slowly.

  “And I shouldn’t have to justify any of my actions in my own garage,” I growl.

  He laughs while holding his hands up defensively. “Sorry. Chill. I get it.”

  Gets what?

  “Why did you come up here?” I ask, annoyed at this point.

  “To tell you I’ve done all I can do until the other parts get here. I’m heading out. You staying? I can work on something else if you want.”

  “Nah. I’m about to head out, too. You had to work all weekend. After the car is finished, you can take off for a few days. On me.”

  His mocking grin is still pissing me off. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

  A text buzzes in, but I ignore it when I see my dad’s name on the screen. He must be getting married. Again. That’s the fourth text this week.

  Wrench walks out as my eyes move to the window. I don’t want to deal with my father or his bridezilla right now. I have no desire to go back to that damn house for any reason.

  I need a distraction.

  The pet shop is right next door, and my distraction is served up on platter.

  ***

  RYE

  “So this one isn’t venomous?” I ask as the snake slithers over the guy’s hand, acting like a calm, gentle serpent. That almost sounds like an oxymoron.

  “Nope,” he says, making the word pop as he smacks his gum.

  “What happens if it bites?” I ask, now second guessing my master plan.

  “Feels like the prick from a briar. No big deal.”

  That’s not so bad. Besides, this thing seems so docile. “I’ll take it.”

  He puts the green snake into a sack that resembles burlap material, but softer, and then he ties it at the top.

  “You need an aquarium?”

  After I torment the hell out of Brin with it, I’ll turn it loose. Snakes in aquariums... Not my thing.

  “No,” I say, shrugging as I hand him the money.

  My grin only grows as I pick up my phone. Now I have her number.

  “Hello?” she answers, probably confused by the number she doesn’t know.

  “It’s me. What are you doing tonight?”

  She pauses for a minute, and my smile becomes painful. She’s right to be paranoid.

  “I have to run some errands, but I should be back within an hour or two. I’m on my way out right now.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then,” I say while hanging up.

  Maggie—the good woman that she is—gave me a key to their house and the code to the alarm system. So from now on, I have full access to torture the hell out of Brin.

  My phone buzzes, and I grimace, worrying that it’s going to be my dad again. It’s not him, but it’s almost as bad. I groan when I see Ash’s name on the screen.

  “Yeah,” I mumble, knowing damn well what she’s about to do. She only calls when she wants to set me up.

  “Please tell me you have nothing going on tonight.”

  Shit. Here she goes.

  “I have plans.”

  “Look, I’m sort of having a major problem, and I was supposed to go out with Hillary Barns tonight for drinks. But I can’t see her. I don’t even really like her, and if she sees me in this shape, she’ll gloat and claim some sort of victory from all of this. You know she has a huge thing for Tag. I realize most women do, but she’s so fucking blatant about it.”

  Is she... crying? Did she just say fucking?

  “Ash, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I will be fine. I just... can you please go meet her in my place? She just wants to set up the pool party for Tag, and I really can’t deal with her. I’ve hated her since he hired her, and I refuse to see her. You know everything there is to know about the party. Wren is MIA, so it has to be you. Please. I’m begging you.”

  Considering she sounds like she’s close to falling apart, I sigh and agree. At least it’s not a matchmaking scheme.

  “I’ll have to reschedule it. I have plans, but I’ll tell her I’m taking over the party planning so you don’t have to deal with her anymore.”

  “That’ll work,” she says, a sniffle following.

  “You sound rough. Can I do something?”

  “No,” she whimpers. “I’ll be fine.”

  With that, she hangs up, and I frown. What just happened?

  Instead of dwelling on it, I drive over to Brin’s house, happy when I see the Range Rover is gone. I really hope she doesn’t run over my newly-repaired Porsche with my Range Rover. That would suck.

  Once I park—and leave her plenty of parking room—I jog up to her house. Maggie’s car is gone, too, so it’s just me and the snake in my hand.

  That sounds a little dirty.

  After unlocking the door, I head into the bedroom and grin as I pull open the cotton-filled panty drawer. But when I spot a few new pairs of satin thongs on top, I’m forced to swallow hard against the instant knot in my throat.

  When did she get these?

  The snake wiggling in the bag reminds me of the task at hand, and I remove my eyes from the scandalously distracting new underwear to focus on my main objective. I stick my hand in the bag, but I pull it back quickly, screeching like a kid when the damn thing latches on and bites the hell out of me.

  “Fucking psycho!” I bark, dropping the bag.

  The sneaky bastard tries to slither away, but I grab him by the tail, jerking it back up from the ground. But then the vicious thing turns and strikes at my hand, and there’s not a damn thing I can do but cry out like a little bitch.

  Briar scratch? That’s not like a damn briar scratch! That’s like having two searing hot, fat needles jabbed into you. The guy switched the snakes. He had to. The one he was playing with was calm and even... sweet. This thing is a rabid demon.

  After it strikes me again, I drop it, and it slithers under the small crack of her bed. I groan as I stare at the impossible mess I’ve gotten myself into. I sure as hell can’t leave this horrible thing in her room. This is a complete and total fail. Instead of doing a victory lap, I’ll be playing the snake trapper all night.

  ***

  BRIN

  Grocery store, drycleaners, and the gas station. Three more stops and then I can rush home and change. I want to look better than the last time, so I actually bought a sexier pair of shorts. They’re still comfortable. They’re not as sexy as a tight dress, but they’re a step up from my usual attire. They were also cheap because of a sale, so that made it a no-brainer.

  “Brin!” Tria calls, waving at me from a restaurant patio. As I move toward her, I see a red-cheeked Ash sitting beside her, sipping from a teacup.

  Rain sits down with them just as I near, and then I see Raya Capperton right behind her, a bitter scowl on her usually sweet face. What’s going on? And why do they all look pissed?

  “Are you guys okay?” I ask sincerely, and Ash starts crying into her napkin.

  Oh no.

  “We hate men,” Raya says while crossing her arms under her chest, her eyes the saddest I’ve ever seen them. I really thought things would be better between her and Kade by now.

  “I can’t be in public,” Ash says, wiping her eyes as her tears pour uncontrollably.

  I stand on the sidewalk as they sit behind the rod iron-fence separating us, and I remain dumbfounded and completely useless.

  “We can’t go to my place,” Tria grumbles.

  “Mine either,” Raya growls.

  “Certainly not mine,” Rain says, sighing... oddly.

  Shit. I really, really, really wanted to hang out with Rye tonight. I have so much fun
when he’s around, but... Ah, hell. I have to do the right thing.

  “You can come to my place. Maggie has a date tonight, so my house will be empty.”

  I won’t cancel on him until I know for sure they are staying for a long period of time.

  Apparently all hell has broken loose in the fairytale lives of the Sterling Sparklers.

  ***

  BRIN

  When I open the door, I hear a rustling motion in my room, as though there’s a struggle. What the hell? Did he set up a prank that moves?

  “I can’t believe he did this,” Ash groans.

  I still have no idea what’s going on with all of the girls. They rode with me, but they were bashing men without details as to why they were ranting.

  Instead of going to my room to find what prank Rye has left behind, I move to the kitchen and decide to make margaritas instead.

  “What happened?” I ask as Rain gives Ash another tissue.

  “He didn’t tell me. He kept it from me, and now... now... I’m going to kill him,” Ash growls, her fury sweeping in quickly.

  The rustling in my room turns to silence, and I realize that jackass is in there right now. I’m going to kill him before Ash kills Tag. That’s why he asked me what I was doing. He wanted to make sure I was going to be out of the house, and like an idiot, I even gave him a timeframe to plot his attack. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  “Why are you killing Tag?” I ask softly, serving her the first strong glass of margarita.

  “Because I’m pregnant and he didn’t tell me!” she barks, and I slide the margarita away from her. Obviously she can’t drink that in her condition.

  Everyone at the table goes still and silent. Apparently no one knew. But... isn’t that something the girl tells the guy? Not the other way around?

  “It’s payback. For Trip. I know it is. I’m going to kill him,” she groans, dropping her head to her hands.

  “I thought you were on the pill,” Rain says quietly.

  “I am. But I had to change my prescription two months ago. Whenever you change your pills, there’s a major possibility that you can get pregnant. So, we used condoms during that period of time. One of the condoms broke the last time I got drunk. My fertile son of a bitch husband knew it, but he kept it a secret.