by Tl Reeve
I cackled. “Don’t let him hear you say that too loudly.”
Our parents hadn’t been gone for very long, only a couple of years. Saying they were dead was a little too hard still. Seemed like only yesterday they were leaving Nashville to head to Gatlinburg for a weekend getaway. On their way home, some asshole drunk driver swerved into oncoming traffic and hit our parent’s car head-on, killing our father instantly. For three days, our mother languished in a coma while they tried to ascertain whether or not she had brain function. When the diagnosis came back our mother wouldn’t survive, we made the hardest decision ever. We kept her alive long enough for her organs to be used for donation and then let her go. Three years later, the pain remained, some days as fresh as if it’d just happened.
Jackson had only been sixteen at the time and still in high school. Since Hunter had been our eldest brother, he became Jackson’s guardian, and we all moved in together. It never occurred to any of us to move out either. We were happy together, and after the last year with all the bullshit with Edgar, I’d been grateful for them too.
“Oh, I don’t care if he hears me,” Jackson said shoving off the stool he’d been sitting on. “It’s the truth.” He had one of his favorite band shirts on, along with a pair of skinny jeans and Vans. “I don’t have to get all fancy, do I? I mean, I was supposed to be casual when I went to Flame, but someone said ‘wear your uniform, Jackson...’” He pitched his voice high, trying to mimic me.
I grinned. “I didn’t want you to look like a slacker. So, shoot me. First impressions are the best impressions.”
“Fuck,” Jackson grumbled. “I hate you sometimes.” He headed for his room, taking his notebook with him.
“I love you too, little brother.” I laughed.
When he reappeared with Hunter and Landon in tow, he wore a black long-sleeve shirt over a ribbed tank top. He even changed his pants to something a bit baggy with red suspenders and his Dr. Marten wing tips. “Better?”
“Much.”
I took in my brothers’ appearances. Hunter had shaved the sides of his head then styled his hair. His scruff looked more like a beard than a hairy butthole, and he actually had on something other than leather and coveralls. He wore a red and black flannel over a cream Henley and a pair of baggy carpenter pants. He’d also swapped out his work boots for a pair of Timberlands, untied of course, because he still needed to appear cool, even though we knew he had a collection of comic books and anime in his room.
Landon, on the other hand, looked like he just surfed in from the Pacific coast. He wore linen pants, flip-flops, and a poncho. His unruly wavy hair had been tussled into a somewhat tamed style. If anyone else saw him, they’d swear he’d smell like weed and patchouli oil and probably needed a shower, desperately.
We exited the house together, and while I went to my Coupe, Landon hopped into his ‘51 Ford Pickup with Jackson, and Hunter straddled his bike. We were so in sync with each other that we turned over our vehicles at the same time, disturbing our quiet little neighborhood with the growl of our heavy engines. My Coupe purred to life, and I grinned, wrapping my fingers around the wheel and shifter. After Landon pulled out, I dropped my purple monster into reverse and backed out of the driveway.
I was convinced blood didn’t run through my veins but straight 10w30 oil. Cars were my life. The Coupe growled as we sped through town, heading for Mack’s ranch. It still blew me away he had two places he could call home, though it shouldn’t. He had more money than he knew what to do with,, and if he were anyone else, I’d call him pretentious. Even though he had a bit of an ‘aw, shucks ma’am’ in him, he also commanded attention. The thought of him made me ache, and the night we spent together only cemented the idea of needing another taste of Mack Redman.
To be honest, I should have slowed this whole thing down between us. We were on a collision course for heartbreak. For me, relationships burned bright and hot in the beginning then turned to ash just as quick, because I’d get bored or betrayed, like with Edgar, the manipulative bastard. The idea of losing someone like Mack didn’t sit well with me, but taking it down a notch wasn’t any fun either. We hit the interstate headed north, and I really allowed the big block 302 to unwind, eating up the miles between us and Mack’s place. I hummed in appreciation of my baby. She never let me down.
When we exited the freeway, we followed the state highway out away from the city then took a little county lane. I’d expected a dirt road when we turned where Mack had indicated in the instructions, but it was all asphalt, smooth and pretty. Hunter went first, then me, with Landon taking up the rear. Our vehicles would announce our arrival, and I could be the bigger person and say I got a small thrill out of it. Okay, okay, it was totally a big-dick-energy thrill. But who could blame me? We took care of our custom builds, and we were proud of them. Why not show them off?
Plus, if someone didn’t get a little bit aroused by the growl of a classic V8, something was wrong with them. Can’t say it was better than sex—well... I mean, I never had an engine fuck me and leave me.
We pulled into the designated parking area next to each other, and I took a moment to gather myself. I’d used the drive to focus on my vehicle instead of the prospect of meeting Mack’s family. Now, I was a nervous mess, and even my pits were sweating. My stomach was in knots, and my mouth was drier than the Sahara. A whistle from my right drew my attention as two men walked over to where we’d parked. Hunter greeted them first and motioned them over to us.
“Ireland, this is Wes and Jax,” Hunter said. “They’re friends of mine and Mack.”
“You mean the friends you talk about but never name?” I teased.
Hunter chuckled. “Guys, this is Ireland, Landon, and our baby bro, Jackson.”
Wes gave off brooding biker vibes with his tussled hair and light-green eyes. His clothes clung to his bulky body, reminding me of a character in those biker shows. If he thought he was being intimidating, he was barking up the wrong tree. I’d seen their type before and watched bigger men fall. Jax had a different vibe about him, however. If I had to put a finger on it, I’d believe he was a G-Man, but nah, none of the guys got down that way. I shook each of their hands and said hello, keeping a polite distance from them.
“You build this beast?” Jax hooked his thumb at my purple monster.
“I did.”
“289 Flathead?” Wes cocked a brow.
I smirked. “302.”
He whistled. It was like a dick measuring competition with some guys. Always checking on the length of cocks. Always trying to outdo one another. “And the pickup?”
“Landon’s. He did all the work.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mack heading for us, a harried look on his face. He might have been a bit out of sorts, eating up the distance between us, yet he was still able to take my breath away. Each time I’d seen him, he’d been wearing an expensive suit, meant to exude power and position, but right now, he wore a pair of relaxed jeans, a Henley with the sleeves pushed up, exposing all those lush tattoos of his, and a pair of boots. He rocked the suit, but this... I wanted to climb him like a tree and never come down. I swallowed hard, feeling the flush creep across my chest and cheeks. This man...
“I swear, sometimes your wives need to put leashes on you.” Mack pushed between Wes and Jax. “Hey, baby.” He tugged me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. “You didn’t have any trouble finding the place, did you?”
I preened under his attentiveness. I liked it when he called me baby. There was always a bit of a growl accompanying the possessive word. I cleared my throat and pretended to not see my brothers all exchanging looks while I soaked up Mack’s attention. “Uh, no. No trouble at all.” I inhaled the spicy scent of his cologne then did it again. For sure, it was something expensive, but I didn’t care. I’d find it and buy a bottle, just so I could spray my pillow—and now I was entering stalker territory.
“Then let’s get you inside so you can meet everyone.” Mack tucked me into his side in a protective ma
nner, setting off a flutter of awareness within me as we strode away from the other guys. “You look absolutely gorgeous, by the way.”
I grinned. “Thank you. So do you.”
The ranch house was done in rock facade, steel, and wood. The windows were all floor to ceiling, and at first I thought I was walking onto a showroom, but once I was inside the house, I could tell this was a home. To the left of where we stood was a huge hearth made of river sandstone. Beside the giant fireplace were built in bookcases packed to the brim with books. The walls were fashioned to give the appearance of a log cabin and shellacked in a blond, neutral shade, giving the area an extra pop of light. The staircase to the right led to the second floor where I was sure the bedrooms were, and to our right was the living room. The sunken floor feature reminded me of those houses built in the sixties. It was supposed to be some cool, hip thing, but for Mack it came across more intimate than anything.
Ahead of us, I could hear chatter coming from what I thought was the kitchen. No one was supposed to be cooking, per Mack’s parting instructions, so I was curious who’d be working when supposedly everyone was having fun. Mack’s grip on my side tightened as we walked into the space. A man in his late-fifties or early sixties leaned against the counter. His rugged features reminded me of Mack. His gray gaze stayed on the dirty-blonde woman with blue eyes who was laughing as she drank from a wine glass. The full-bodied sound reminded me of my mother when my father would say something ridiculous. Two younger girls, both with the same hair color as their mother, were spooning cookie dough onto a sheet while they chatted away, stopping every so often to laugh as well. These had to be Mack’s parents and his sisters. Where the girls looked like their mom, Mack was a younger version of his dad.
My heart fisted in my chest. I missed stuff like this with my parents. Missed hearing their laughter fill the house. I swallowed down the lump in my throat, desperate to clear out any lingering sadness before being formally introduced to his mom and dad. What if they didn’t like me? Sure, I couldn’t give two fucks if people adored me, but here, in Mack’s house, I really wanted their approval.
“There she is,” Mack’s dad said first then whistled. “Aren’t you a sight.”
“And all that red hair,” his mom said, joining his father. “You must’ve kept your parents on their toes when you were little.”
Well...
“Mom, Dad,” Mack said, “this is Ireland. Ireland, these are my parents, Mackinley and Sarah Jane.” He then pointed to the two younger girls and grinned. “And these two rugrats are Macey and Waverly.”
“Ohmigod, you’re such an asshole, Mackinley Jr.!” Macey snapped while rolling her eyes.
So, he was named after his father. I’d tuck that bit of information away to ask about later, once we were alone.
“Now, now, children,” Sarah Jane said. “Let’s not frighten Ireland off with your petty sibling squabbles.”
Waverly laughed. “They’re always at each other’s throats.” She stepped forward first and wrapped me in a hug. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same, thank you for having me and my brothers,” I replied, returning the hug. Even though I’d been nervous the minute I parked my car, being in the kitchen with his family caused all of the anxiety to leech from me. They weren’t only welcoming, but I instantly wanted to get to know them better.
“You have brothers?” Macey stopped her tirade with Mack and pinned me with a look. “Then you understand how insufferable they can be.”
I snickered. “I’m the only girl, so I understand more than most. Especially when it comes to dating.”
“How many brothers do you have?” Waverly asked, bringing me over where her and Macey were still spooning out cookie dough.
“Three,” I answered as Sarah Jane handed me a glass of wine. Unlike last time, I was going to pace myself. No way in hell I’d make a fool of myself in front of Mack’s parents. “Thanks. Hunter is thirty-five, Landon is twenty-nine, I’m twenty-five, and our baby brother Jackson is nineteen.” I took a sip of the wine and hummed in approval. It was light with a hint of sweet while the back end was a little sour. “They’re outside talking bikes and cars.”
“Mack mentioned you owned a garage,” his father said. “You rebuild classics and customs?”
I nodded. “We do. I own the shop with my brothers. I usually do all the engine work, Landon rebuilds transmissions and does small repairs while Hunter paints the vehicles when they’re ready. Jackson is in culinary school.” I braced myself for their response. Whenever I told anyone what kind of work I did, the replies were usually misogynistic.
“Isn’t it kind of dirty?” Waverly asked.
“Well, if I’m not going home without a busted knuckle and gunk under my fingernails, I didn’t do my job properly.” I shrugged.
“She’s a keeper,” Mackinley said. “She’s perfect for you Mack. Don’t do anything stupid.”
I bit back a laugh while I could feel my cheeks heat. Had I just received his dad’s approval? Play it cool. I didn’t need to show my ass by bouncing around the kitchen because I was excited about their acceptance. Well, not yet anyway. Later. Maybe.
Mack scoffed, in feigned indignation. “Me? She has a strike system.” He grabbed a beer out of the fridge then used the bottle cap opener on the edge of the hardwood counter. “I thought I was a goner before I even got to know her.”
“Well,” I said, teasing him. “You did stick your foot in your mouth several times.”
“Yep, that’s Mack for you,” Macey said, placing the tray she’d been working on into the oven. “It’s also the patriarchal bullshit society we live in. Guys are the only ones who can work on vehicles while us dainty womenfolk have to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.”
I mean, she wasn’t wrong. “If I had a dime for every time a guy asked for my brothers instead of me.” I shrugged while cutting my gaze at Mack, who at least had the ability to appear a bit little sheepish at the moment.
“We’re going to be best friends,” Macey said. “I already know it.” Happiness seeped through my veins. I didn’t have many friends to begin with, and again, the sappiness of approval filled me. Yeah, Macey and I were definitely going to be best friends.
“And that’s my cue to introduce Ireland to everyone out back,” Mack said, clearing his throat. “Don’t need the both of you staging a mutiny before the fun begins.”
I laughed. “Well, Anne Bonny is my favorite pirate, just saying.”
“It was nice meeting you, Ireland,” Mack’s mom said. “You’re going to fit in just fine with us.”
“Likewise,” I replied as we slipped out the side door to the patio. “I survived.”
Mack chuckled. “I knew you would. This is a whole other landmine of possibilities though.”
“What is this, a biker reunion?” There were men in cuts and women gathered together in small groups while children ran around the open field. Further back on the property sat a barn and off to the side a field of horses. More than three, but less than a hundred. “Don’t tell me you buy and sell horses too.”
“It’s a hobby of mine.” Mack shrugged. “Come on, let’s go meet the rest of the gang.”
“I have a feeling there’s a double-entendre there,” I said.
“Maybe.”
As we stepped closer to the group of ladies sitting around a firepit, I caught the insignia on the back of the vest one of the men were wearing. The Broken Eagles MC. My stomach dropped.
They’d also been the reason I left Nashville. More specifically, one of the members had bought a stolen bike from Edgar, who owned an auto auction house called Lux Automotive. When I obtained my ASE Auto Mechanic Certification, I’d joined Landon who’d already been working at Lux Automotive Auction. The attraction to Edgar had been quick—he was a bad boy, which was a major turn on for me at the time. However, I quickly figured out things weren’t what they seemed. Of course, I hadn’t done anything wrong. But, when I found out my ex had been fucki
ng over the customers by selling them stolen property right under my nose? Well, I didn’t stand for that shit. My standing meant more to me than a quick lay.
I never knew the outcome of the situation because I didn’t stick around. Just calm down. No one knows you here. They never saw you at the shop. This was my new life. I was standing on my own. I had the shop and the reputation for no bullshit to back me up. If anyone asked anything, I’d brush it off and keep going.
Ha. That would never work. Gird your loins, girly, as my mother used to say.
Mack leaned into me, his lips brushing against my ear. “Are you okay? I know this must be a lot for you to take in.”
I pasted on a grin and nodded. “Just fine. I guess I’m a little overwhelmed. When you said ranch house, you weren’t kidding. You live on working ranch.”
He chuckled. “Stick around long enough and it might be yours one day too, which means having the pleasure of mucking stalls.”
Mine? This place? I stared out over what appeared to be an endless field in disbelief. I waited for my fight or flight instinct to kick in, but instead a sense of rightness filled me.
Mack pressed his lips to my temple before clearing his throat. “Ladies, this is Ireland.”
The group of women stopped their discussion and turned their heads as a unit. Yeah, no. I wasn’t going to fit in with them. They were all gorgeous, the kinds of women who went for walks and lattes early in the morning. All of the little munchkins running around were probably theirs as well. They more than likely all had bougee names too, like Winterkiss Stardust or Faustus or something equally eyeroll inducing.
“Ireland, this is July, December, June, Harmony, Ellie, and Kayan,” Mack said, introducing them one by one.
I waved. “Hello, nice to meet you.”
“She’s hot, Mack,” Kayan said. “We can’t compete with her.”
July laughed, shaking her head. “We’re not supposed to. We’re already married.”
“She’s definitely not who we thought you’d pick, that’s for sure,” Harmony said with a grin.
