by Jayne Rylon
Somehow, she knew that went double for this one.
She cleared her throat. “So tell me what you’re looking for? Why am I here?”
“Am I allowed to make suggestions?” Nova winked.
“No,” Nola and Eli responded in unison.
Eli, King Cobra, repeated his spiel from their initial meeting about generating a long-term strategy, organizing existing ideas and formalizing their business plan, which they both understood was for the benefit of Kaige, not her.
She hoped the toolbox was listening. He seemed more intent on playing games, leaving his legs spread so his knee maintained contact with hers. If he thought she’d head for the hills before they even got started, he was destined for disappointment. Intimidation tactics had never worked on her.
“Excuse me.” She stopped Eli mid-sentence and turned to face the asshole beside her instead. “I don’t give a shit how big you think your balls are, you don’t need all that room. Move the hell over. This is my space.”
She drew an imaginary box around herself, uninviting Kaige from within it.
Nola didn’t bother to glance away from Nova’s stunned expression toward the gasping Eli didn’t come close to covering with his faux cough. Thank God he busted a gut at her directness instead of booting her to the curb. Maybe this could work after all.
Kaige shuffled to the left then splayed his legs even wider than before. She didn’t give a fuck as long as he kept away from her. Turning toward Eli again, she caught his stare in her peripheral vision. She wondered if the glimmer there had anything to do with begrudging respect, or if resentment still took top spot.
She didn’t come here today to make enemies. And whether she’d asked for it or not, she had one. The only way to get this job, and keep it, would be to form an unlikely alliance.
Fuck her life.
“I think what you’re saying makes sense, Cobra.” She felt silly using their nicknames but the guys wore them as easily as a second skin. “But I don’t know the restomod business specifics.”
“Exactly,” Nova nearly spat.
She choked on the suggestion she knew she had to make twice before she could force it out through clenched teeth. “So what do you think about Mr. Davis and I teaming up?”
This time Eli couldn’t contain his guffaw. “Mr. Davis. Who the hell is that?”
It surprised her more though when Kaige snarled. “Don’t call me that. Reminds me of my fucking father. I’m nothing like him.”
Still, he glanced at the floor, away from her for the first time, when he denied it.
“Fine. Super Nova.” She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “He could help me vet my ideas before committing them to the plan and wasting time chasing dead ends.”
“Can you do that?” Eli raised a brow at Nova.
“I’m not an idiot, you know.” He crossed his arms in a way that highlighted the bulges of his biceps. “I’ll show her my plans if it’s what’s best for Hot Rods.”
“Wait. You have your new business concepts formalized somewhere? Like in a proposal or something? I thought you just had them up here.” Eli tapped his temple with his index finger.
“Nope. They’re on my laptop. Been honing them for a while.” Kaige turned serious for a moment. When he dropped his thug routine, she had to swallow hard. Beneath his resentment, there lingered a whole lot of hurt. The flex of his throat, the shuffling of his boots and the wringing of his damaged knuckles said it all.
Nola imagined him pouring himself into the improvements he wanted to pitch to Eli. For endless hours, fiddling with them at night, after Cobra retired to the rooms he shared with Alanso and Sally.
Suddenly, she could understand maybe a tiny bit of Nova’s frustration. She’d fume too if the chance to show off her work had been stolen. Even if they partnered now, the guys would think she had influenced him, generating the new goals he hoped to pursue.
For one second, she pitied him.
And then he ruined it by opening his big, dumb mouth. “As long as Hot Rods thrives, I don’t give a shit who gets credit for being the brainiac behind it. I’m no glory hound, and I don’t need some bullet point on a fancy resume like Ms. Brown here. Besides, it’s what your dad would ask of me.”
Eli scrubbed his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. The way the trio had spoken of Tom London during their consultation with her sister made his importance to the group clear. A low blow, bringing the man into this discussion. Or maybe genuine concern. Would Kaige put aside his differences to make the guy proud?
Nola bet the answer was yes.
Why couldn’t this damn assignment have been easy? Emotional landmines scattered across their playing field.
“You’re right. Dad would want us to collaborate. So why haven’t I seen these roadmaps for the shop?” Scratching his head, Eli narrowed his eyes a bit.
Nola held her breath as something heavy seemed to pass between the two friends, who seemed a hell of a lot more like brothers than pals. At least they shared the same capacity for communicating a whole lot with a few words, just like she and her sister did.
“You’ve been busy. I didn’t want to bug you. Plus there are a few kinks I was still working out.” A shrug loosened some of the knots in Kaige’s shoulders for the first time. “Your girl Nola here can help me brainstorm how to get around the roadblocks. I guess that would be okay.”
The first sign of thawing had Nola perking up. Maybe it wasn’t hopeless.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to step on your toes.” A wince slashed Eli’s face. “I screwed this up. But in the end I think we’re going to get where we need to go. I’m sorry, Kaige.”
“It’s okay, Eli.” And it seemed as if it was. The air between the guys cleared and Nola could breathe again. Definitely similar to her and her sister. Sure, they’d fought plenty. Still, it was easy to forgive someone you loved even when they made a bonehead move. Because deep down you knew there had been no malice behind it. “We’re okay.”
Nola stared at her hands, clutched tightly in her lap. She felt as if she’d intruded on their bonding. And damn if it didn’t make her like both men just a little more.
Eli stood, abandoning the red leather seat behind his desk to lay his hand on Kaige’s shoulder. It surprised the hell out of her when the bitter man flashed a sense of humor.
“Now get your ass in gear. You’ve got guests to invite to a par-tay.” Kaige grinned as he slapped the other guy on the ass. The dazzling display of his crooked grin, not to mention the blatant affection her temporary teammate demonstrated for his boss, had her drawing a sharp breath.
Ah, hell. She’d better get used to it if she planned to stick around. After all, Cobra was unconventional—in love with both a woman and man. If she was to stay, she’d have to broaden her horizons a bit.
Somehow she thought that might not be such a terrible thing.
“Is there anything else to discuss, then?” Eli leaned forward, eager to shake on their arrangement.
“One thing.” She stood so they were as close to eye-level as possible. It might sound funny, but she wasn’t joking around.
“Uh-oh.” He grinned. “Let’s hear it.”
“If this dirtbag gives me any trouble, I get to kick him in the nuts.” Nola jerked her head toward Kaige.
Super Nova laughed. For one glorious moment, the pure bliss transformed him into something entirely too tempting—a mechanical God who’d be sure to tune her engine just right. When he caught her wide-eyed stare, he stifled the ringing mid-chuckle as if pissed he’d gotten busted finding her amusing.
Nola couldn’t help the barest of smiles she flashed in his direction.
“Deal.” Eli extended his hand and she took it. “Use the rest of the day to get prepared, and we’ll see you back here tomorrow.”
“Will do.”
It surprised her when Kaige Davis held the office door for her as she left. On impulse, she reached into her purse and snagged one of her business cards then tuc
ked it in the breast pocket of his grease-spotted Hot Rods uniform as she squeezed past.
When he simply stared at her, she thought maybe he hadn’t been attempting politeness. No, maybe he was eager to see her taillights. Oh well.
Chapter Three
Nola took a deep breath when the front door opened and her sister, Amber, called out a greeting. She stretched before abandoning her laptop and the copious notes strewn across a quarter of the pages in her notebook to go on the hunt for a snack. How could it be nearly ten o’clock already?
She hardly remembered eating the grilled cheese her mom had brought her for lunch or the chef salad she’d shoveled in her mouth with one hand while researching everything from cars to mechanical equipment online. More than ever, she wanted to walk into Hot Rods prepared tomorrow.
“Hey.” She smiled at her sister, who looked worn yet grinned from ear to ear. Hard work didn’t scare either of them so long as they answered to themselves while helping their clients.
“How’d it go today?” Amber asked.
“Okay.” She shrugged. “Mostly a meet-and-greet with the jerk Eli told us about. The real fun starts tomorrow.”
“Oh jeez.” Amber let her head drop back as she studied the stained-glass lamp that had come straight out of the ’50s into their modest yet neat kitchen. They shared the house with their mother. Shelter ranked higher in their priorities than décor.
“What?” Nola splayed her hands in front of her. “I didn’t do anything, I swear. He hated me on sight.”
At the sound of the sisters chatting, their mom ventured into the kitchen in her soft pink robe and matching slippers. Though the set had a couple frayed edges, her frugal nature wouldn’t allow them to replace the somewhat faded loungewear, though they could afford to these days.
Hard times had ensured they remained fiscally conservative.
Just in case.
“Why are you looking so guilty, Nola?” Her mom tipped her head as she flipped on her parental super senses and joined the fray.
“I’m not!” She might have squeaked as she reached for the utensil drawer. “Look, one of the clients seems to have a giant stick up his perfect ass. I didn’t put it there. But I’m sure as hell going to have to deal with him being cranky about whoever or whatever did.”
“So he’s hot and ornery?” Amber winced. “Yikes. Never a good combo.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Nola used her hip to close the drawer and tucked the spoon in her mouth as she opened the freezer to grab the half-pint of salty caramel ice cream she’d stashed.
Who could blame a girl for a little stress eating the night before a big job began?
Her mother raised one brow. “That’s the good stuff—he must be really sexy. Or really difficult. I don’t want you alone with a crazy man if he’s got some kind of turf issue.”
“It’s not like that, Mom.” She shrugged. “I kind of think maybe Eli didn’t realize that his friend had ideas of his own for the shop.”
“Even worse,” her mom objected. “You’ll get caught in the crossfire.”
“Plus, she said he’s hot. Don’t forget that.” Amber knocked her shoulder into their mom’s. “When’s the last time she admitted that about any man?”
“True.” Her mom sighed. “Not even that blond vampire guy on that show you like.”
“Ick.” Nola wrinkled her nose. “Too girly.”
“And that’s not a problem with your grease monkey?” Amber wriggled her brows.
“Stop. He’s not mine. Except as a very unwilling business partner.” She dug into the frozen treat more energetically than the poor dairy delight demanded. “Anyway, how did the wedding planning go?”
“Great.” Her sister lit up as she began to tick off the monumental progress she’d made in a single twenty-four-hour period. She would work miracles for the trio they’d both been captivated by. True love was impossible to miss. Or admire.
Their mother cleared her throat.
“Yeah?” Amber paused the recounting of her conquest in scheduling the city’s most up-and-coming baker to design a cake on such short notice, under budget too.
“I just thought of something.”
“What, Mom?” Nola paused with her spoon midair.
“What if the guy, the one who’s giving you crap… What if he’s grumpy because he’s resentful?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully.
“Of what?” Nola and her sister said at the same time.
“Didn’t you say the guys have been part of the shop since they were teenagers? Along with that girl, Sally? What if he wanted her for himself? Or what if he wanted one of those other two guys—Eli or Alanso?” Their mom searched for the right words, trying to be politically correct, but they didn’t know a lot of openly polyamorous people.
Okay, exactly three.
“You’re saying you think Kaige might be in love with Sally?” Nola offered.
“Or Eli. Or Alanso. Maybe he’s gay,” Amber added.
“It’s not like he had some kind of indicator tattoo on his forehead. Hell, it’s one of the few places he doesn’t have ink.” Nola tried not to sigh at the memory of those bold slashes of color. “But no…I really don’t think he’s gay.”
The way he’d checked out her breasts, and her hips, and kept touching her leg…
Intuition screamed at her that if they’d met under different circumstances, like at a bar, they’d have been in for a wild ride. First she’d have to actually go out, though. She and Amber had turned into homebodies as they’d nurtured their consulting business.
“He could be bi. Mom’s right.” Amber shrugged without malice. “It’s a possibility. There are no rules in this kind of relationship, are there? Well, I guess there have to be, but we don’t know what they are. Maybe you stepped in the middle of something a lot more sensitive than we realized.”
And why did that thought make Nola turn a little green?
“Don’t wrinkle your nose like that, Nola Macey Brown.” Her mom wagged her finger. “There’s nothing wrong with people loving each other, no matter who they are. Girls, boys, blacks, whites, whatever. Two, three, ten, it doesn’t make any difference as long as they’re honest and all agree.”
“Of course not, Mom.” Nola ducked her head, her cheeks heating as she recalled plenty of stories about her father, and how—before his death—he’d constantly been harassed by racists for his dark-skinned wife. Back then, in the deep South, things had been different.
“She’s not discriminating or being snobby.” Amber laughed. “She’s jealous. He must have been one serious hottie, this mechanic.”
Their mom grinned as she looked between her daughters, confirming Amber’s diagnosis.
“It doesn’t matter how smokin’ he is.” Nola turned to replace the rest of her ice cream in the freezer, her appetite vanished. “He’s still an asshat.”
“Is your asshat’s name Kaige Davis?” Amber asked, a bit too innocently as she toyed with Nola’s laptop.
“Yes. Why?” She let the refrigerator door slam closed, despite the glare from her mother, then trotted to her sister’s side.
And there she saw it.
A bolded message had appeared in her inbox from Super Nova, with the subject line: Sorry, I’m a dumbass.
“Well, go ahead.” Her mother poked her in the shoulder. “Read it.”
“No way!” Nola shrieked as her sister tried to click the note. Reaching forward, she snatched the laptop off the table and dashed to her room for some privacy, shutting the door behind her.
The hollow-core didn’t keep the tinkling laughter her mother and sister exchanged from creeping after her.
She smiled, though her finger trembled, as she tapped the key to see what her new partner had to say for himself.
Kaige flipped the business card Nola had given him over and over across his bruised knuckles. Like her, the sturdy cardstock was dark, sleek and engaging. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her embossed email address, wishing it w
ere her plump lips he touched instead.
Shit. Sometime in the past few hours, his anger had blown over. Something equally as hot, but a lot more steamy, had replaced it the more he thought about the woman who’d refused to take his shit in their meeting this morning.
It was as if he’d gone from denting his precious bumper to having the whole thing fall right off. Because working with her would be ten times harder if he was horny than if he was pissed off.
Plus, she’d earned his respect. And he didn’t treat people he admired like crap.
At least he could man up and explain himself before they were official partners. It would be easier to compose his feelings and send them to her than to try and muddle through a verbal apology. He wasn’t usually great at organizing his thoughts or keeping his cool long enough to express what he intended.
So he grabbed his laptop, plopped into bed and leaned against the headboard as he started a message to the sassy consultant, then deleted it. About a hundred times in a row.
Frustrated, he hammered out Sorry, I’m a dumbass in the subject line.
The cursor sat in the body of the email, blinking at him like a check engine light on the fritz. It refused to stop no matter how he finessed the chaos in his mind. Irritating and persistent, it distracted him from finding the right thing to say.
Eventually he came up with a single line.
I’m not perfect on my best days, but I’ll try to be less of a fuck up tomorrow. Nova
A simple truth, but a motto he’d lived by ever since coming to the Hot Rods. Continuous improvement. Tom had given him that goal once, and it had stuck. He held himself to higher standards every day, even if he didn’t always succeed in achieving them.
Cheers erupted from the living room as someone won a race on their latest videogame. A pause followed. It might have lasted several minutes. Then more shouts and good-natured curses. Again. Then again.
Still the cursor flashed at him.
“Ah, fuck it.” Kaige clicked Send.
He wandered out into the main room with his computer in one arm. Along the way, he rummaged a slice of room-temperature pepperoni pizza from the jumble of boxes on the island. Then he slumped into a free space on the massive sectional couch, propping his laptop on one thigh as he demolished the second go at dinner.
