Unraveling Him: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 3)

by Claire Kingsley

  “Twins? That’s cool.”

  “Yeah, they’re identical, but total opposites, except they have the same job,” Gavin said. “Kind of fascinating when you think about it.”

  “If you’re bored, why don’t you bother Asher? He lives right next door to you.”

  “True, but I had a feeling I’d have more fun if I came out here. Which isn’t usually the case, because let’s be honest, you’re a grumpy bastard.” He grinned at Fiona again. “But it appears I made the right choice.”

  If he didn’t quit flirting with her, I was going to—

  Going to what? Why did I care if my brother flirted with her? Gavin flirted with everyone; it didn’t mean anything. And even if it did… why should that matter to me?

  It didn’t.

  “So, Fiona, do you have plans tonight?” he asked.

  “Knock it off,” I roared, standing so fast my chair fell backward.

  “What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “I was just wondering.”

  I grabbed his plate and dropped it on top of mine. “No.”

  “No, what?” Gavin asked, putting up his hands.

  Fiona did that lip-bite thing again, like she was trying not to smile. “I am pretty busy, actually. My car needs a new clutch and I want to get it done as quickly as possible so I can get out of your brother’s way.”

  I took the plates and stalked into the kitchen, irritation knotting the muscles in my shoulders.

  “That sucks,” he said. “I have a better idea. Evan, you fix her clutch, and I’ll show her around Tilikum.”

  The plates clanked when I set them on the counter. Any harder and I would have broken them.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got it,” she said before I could yell at him again. “He’s nice enough to let me use his shop. That’s all I need.”

  “Wow, he’s doing something nice for a person? You must be magic.”

  Fiona laughed. “Not really. I helped him with something, so he’s helping me in return.”

  “Huh,” Gavin said. I turned and he was watching me with his arms crossed. “Interesting.”

  “What’s interesting?” I asked.

  “Fiona,” he said without missing a beat. “Have you talked to her at all? She’s fascinating.”

  “Don’t you have something better to do?”

  “No, this is really fun.”

  “Go away.”

  “Fine, but only because Fiona has work to do and I don’t want to keep her.” He stood. “Thank for breakfast. Bro, I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Tonight?” I asked.

  “It’s Tuesday.”

  “Right. Dinner. Fine.”

  “Fiona, meeting you was definitely the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Call me if you’re bored, okay? He has my number.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  Gavin winked at her, smiled at me again, then turned and walked out.

  “Well, that was entertaining,” she said once the door clicked closed. “You didn’t tell me your brother was so funny.”

  “He’s not.”

  “Are your other brothers funny, too?”

  “No.”

  She laughed softly as she picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen.

  “I’m going to go—” I stopped. I was about to say go shower, but I should probably offer it to her first. “Do you need the bathroom?”

  “Go ahead. I can wait.”

  “I’m going to shower, then deal with the car. Do you need anything?”

  “Yes, actually. I’m going to need to run to an auto parts store. Please tell me there’s one nearby.”

  “There is.”

  “Good. I’ll just do that first, then take the car apart.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I can drive you into town,” I said, cutting her off. “There’s no reason to risk it with yours.”

  “Thanks, Evan.”

  I grunted a reply, then turned and started toward the bathroom. Hesitating, I stopped and looked over my shoulder. “Fiona?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Her bright smile did uncomfortable things to my insides. Shoving the feeling away, I turned my back on her. I had work to do.

  13

  Fiona

  Evan Bailey was, hands down, the most fascinating creature I’d ever encountered.

  He was so hard to read, everything buried deep beneath his scowls, dark brow furrows, and the occasional grouchy outburst. I’d wondered if his moodiness had been road-trip induced, but after spending most of a day with him in his home territory, I was convinced this was just Evan.

  What was he hiding under all that bluster?

  I’d probably never know.

  He’d taken me into town this morning to get what I needed from the auto parts store. I had to give him credit, even though he had much more experience with cars than me, he didn’t take over and try to mansplain everything. He just went in and got a few things that he needed while I did the same.

  It was like he assumed I knew what I was doing.

  No one close to me had ever treated me that way—particularly my dad. So it took me by surprise when Evan, a man I’d known for less than a week, did.

  Of course, maybe he just didn’t care. That was also a solid possibility.

  My hands were greasy from working on my car, and I’d probably ruined my jeans. But there was a comfortable familiarity about getting under the hood again. I’d grown up in my dad’s garage, learning from his crew. A few of them had been like cool uncles who’d been happy to teach me about cars.

  I’d learned how to rebuild an engine from the ground up. It had been fun, and empowering to know I could fix something broken. It was why I’d bought a car that needed work instead of taking on more debt for something newer. If it broke, I could fix it. Of course, I hadn’t counted on the timing of this clutch replacement, but that was another issue.

  After our trip into town, Evan had spent the day working on the Pontiac. I’d helped him get it off the trailer and into the garage, and since then, he’d been in his own world over there. Music played in the background, and Sasquatch hung out with his daddy while he worked. Other than his dog, he existed in a bubble of solitude.

  I stood and put my hands on my hips. My hair was up in a bun, some of the loose tendrils held back by a red bandanna I’d folded into a headband. The shop was warm, so I’d shed my sweatshirt, opting to work in a black tank top and jeans.

  Evan was on the far side of the shop, stripping the Pontiac. He crouched next to the car, his back to me. His shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and back—all thick, bulging muscle—and his tattooed arms were nothing but trouble.

  And those hands. God, they were huge. Wide palms and thick fingers.

  He stood, his movements deceptively graceful. He was big, but not brutish, like he had perfect control over every inch of that body.

  A body that also made a delightful pillow.

  Tearing my gaze away from him before he caught me staring, I rolled my eyes. Evan Bailey was as unattainable as a man could be. He was so closed off, I was surprised he even had a dog, let alone any humans in his life.

  Besides, that wasn’t why I was here, and I certainly wasn’t going to stay. At the rate I was going, I’d finish the clutch tonight and be on my way to Iowa sometime tomorrow.

  Which meant I needed to call my mom.

  Then again, I should probably be sure the car was ready for the trip before I gave her a heads-up. That way I could give her a more accurate arrival date. You never knew what could go wrong when you took out a transmission.

  I was running into a little trouble with the flywheel, and I didn’t want to bother Evan, but YouTube would have the answer. Everything that I hadn’t learned from my dad’s crew, I’d learned from YouTube.

  My phone rang, so I pulled it out of my back pocket, a little spark of
anxiety lighting like a match. But it wasn’t Dad. I stifled a groan. It was Simone. That wasn’t necessarily better. Against my better judgment, I answered. After all, we’d been best friends—even roommates—for years. Maybe she was reaching out to apologize.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh my god, I’m so glad you answered,” she said, her voice thick with urgency.

  My heart rate kicked up and my breath felt trapped in my throat. Had something happened to my dad? “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s the code for the copy machine?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but for a second, nothing came out. The copy machine? Was she serious? “It’s on a sticky note in the cupboard right above it.”

  “Is it really? Hey, you’re right. Thanks, babe.”

  I scrunched my nose. Babe?

  “Oh, wait, while I have you on the phone, we’re almost out of staples.”

  “What?”

  “Staples,” she said. “You know, the pointy little silver things that hold paper together.”

  “I know what staples are. How do you not know how to order staples? Ordering office supplies wasn’t even my job, it’s yours.”

  “I know, but you’re such a doll, you’ve always done it for me. You had the… I don’t know what it’s called, the thingy on your computer.”

  “I didn’t have a thingy, I just had the website bookmarked.”

  “Huh. Okay, well, how do I order staples? You know what, I have a better idea. Why don’t you just swing by this afternoon and you can do it really quick. Your desk is still here and everything.”

  “I’m not coming in to order staples.”

  “Why? It’ll take you like five minutes. What else do you have going on?”

  “Where do you think I am?”

  “How would I know? I haven’t seen you since you had your temper tantrum.”

  “I’m not coming into work and I’m not ordering your staples,” I said. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

  “But, Fi—”

  I ended the call. I was not going to deal with her bullshit. Or her incompetence. She wasn’t my problem anymore.

  Evan was watching me from the other side of the shop, that deep furrow in his brow. It was positively stupid how sexy he was when he did that. And he made that face all the time.

  All.

  The.

  Time.

  For a second, I thought he might ask me if I was okay. A little piece of my heart yearned for his concern, hoped he’d offer me even the tiniest gesture of comfort. Which was silly, and I knew it. He didn’t care about me. He just wanted to uphold his end of the deal so he didn’t owe me anything.

  Sure enough, he turned and went back to working on his car.

  Which was fine. I didn’t need anything from him.

  Where was I? Right, flywheel.

  Evan’s office was at the back of the shop. He had a big bulletin board on one wall with printed-out ads for cars, Post-it notes, and strings connecting them, like a big conspiracy theory board. Some said cash, others said trade. Still others had Post-it notes with reminders like call Jeff in January, or could trade up for project car.

  I sat at his desk and gently moved some paperwork so I had access to the mouse. It was kind of a mess in here. How did he find anything? I clicked around and found what looked like a good tutorial and turned up the volume.

  Evan’s phone rang. It sat carelessly near the edge of his desk, like he’d dropped it there without thinking.

  He came in and grabbed the phone off the desk in one of those huge hands. “Bailey Customs.”

  I paused the video and watched him from the corner of my eye, trying to pretend I wasn’t. A cloud of irritation passed over his features.

  “Yeah, I know.” He moved around the small space as he talked. “It’s not going to happen today. I lost half my morning to hauling a piece of shit transmission out of a piece of shit car.”

  I rolled my eyes. It hadn’t even taken very long.

  “You’re just going to have to wait,” he continued. “Sure, do you have the part number? Hang on, I need to write it down.”

  Leaning to my right, I tried to stay out of his way as he rooted around his desk.

  “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered under his breath. “Hold on, Pete.”

  I could see a pen tucked beneath a receipt, so I grabbed it and held it up.

  Evan took it out of my hand. “Okay, go ahead.”

  It was hard not to giggle. He was so big, the sort of man who took up all the space in a room without even trying. Maybe without wanting to. He paced around like a restless wild animal, and I wondered if he had any idea how often he growled at things. I found it very amusing.

  And arousing. But I didn’t want to dwell on that.

  He wrote something down and kept talking. “Intake manifold? Yeah, I think so, but I need to check the invoice. Where the hell is it?” He shuffled through the paperwork scattered haphazardly across his desk. “No, it’s fine, today’s just a shit show.”

  Glancing at the paperwork on his desk again, the words intake manifold jumped out at me. I grabbed the invoice and smacked it against his chest.

  Pausing for half a second, he met my eyes, then took the invoice and checked it. “Yeah, it’s on here. Okay, call you in a few days.”

  He hung up and tossed his phone on his desk.

  “Have you ever thought about hiring someone?” I asked. “Maybe help with all the admin stuff?”

  “I don’t need business advice.”

  I put my hands up. “Sorry. You just seem really busy.”

  “I am really busy.”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  He looked at me again with that damn brow furrow. I stared right back, meeting his intense gaze, hoping he couldn’t tell what that look did to my panties.

  They were not wet. Not at all.

  That was a lie. They definitely were.

  “I have to go into town,” he said suddenly. “I’ll be back later.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll just be here working.”

  He held my eyes for a long moment, like maybe there was more he wanted to say. I waited, the prolonged eye contact making my heart beat faster.

  But he didn’t say anything else. Just turned and walked out.

  A slight trickle of disappointment flitted its way through my belly. But what did I have to be disappointed about? What was I expecting, that Evan was going to invite me to dinner?

  He wasn’t. And really, I didn’t want him to. We were passing ships, nothing more. One day soon I’d remember him as a guy I met once. And he probably wouldn’t remember me at all.

  I had no idea why that thought made me so sad.

  14

  Evan

  Staunchly ignoring the pang of guilt I felt for leaving Fiona alone, I got on my bike. She would be fine. There was food in the fridge, and she obviously knew how to cook.

  Although maybe I’d text her on my way back and see if she wanted me to pick something up for her. She’d been working on her car almost nonstop today. She had to be hungry.

  But she could take care of herself.

  I drove to Gram’s and parked outside. I could tell by all the cars out front that everyone was here, and I was the last to arrive. I felt a pang of guilt at that too.

  But they were used to it. I was busy. Owning your own business meant time spent not working was time spent not getting paid. I couldn’t just finish my shift and go home.

  Jack was outside his house next door, with his stepson Elijah. It looked like they were building something. They had a table saw and a stack of lumber. Jack lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey, Evan.”

  He said something to Elijah, then started toward me. I walked over to meet him about halfway between the two houses.

  “Hey, Jack. What are you guys building?”

  “Some new bookshelves. Naomi wants more storage, and Elijah wanted to help. Listen, I’m sorry about the car.”

  Like Jack had said
they would, the feds had impounded the Mustang. But since scoring the Pontiac, I’d practically forgotten about it. “It’s okay. I found another project.”

  “Good. I figured you would. I haven’t heard anything from the feds, but I don’t really expect to. It’s out of my jurisdiction. Whatever they’re doing, they’ll keep it to themselves.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “I’ll let you get to dinner. Tell Gram and your brothers I said hi.”

  “I will. Thanks, Jack.” I waved to Elijah. He took his hand out of his pocket and waved back.

  I went over to Gram’s house but paused on the front porch to check my phone. Not that I was thinking about Fiona or anything. Just in case.

  I did have a text, but it wasn’t from Fiona. It was from Jill.

  Jesus.

  Jill: Hey gorgeous! I haven’t heard from you. Is everything okay?

  Why was this girl texting me? I’d ignored her last text but apparently she wasn’t taking the hint. I didn’t even know how she’d gotten my number.

  I pocketed my phone without answering. She’d figure it out.

  As soon as I walked inside, I was greeted by the familiar din of noise coming from the back of the house. Voices mostly, plus pots and pans, plates and silverware. The clink of metal, ceramic, and glass. Logan laughed at something. Chances were, he was laughing at his own joke. He thought he was hilarious.

  Hesitating near the front door, I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of this place. There was something about this house. It smelled like home, but not in a way that made me feel at ease when I was here. It was hard to walk through that door and not feel loss.

  It bothered me that I couldn’t get rid of that feeling. I still had Gram. Still had my brothers, as much as they drove me crazy. And that was enough. I didn’t need anything else. I didn’t want to need anything else. I was fine.

  The floors creaked beneath my feet—they always had—when I walked to the kitchen. Gavin was at the stove next to Gram plucking hot dinner rolls off a baking sheet and dropping them into a basket. Asher and Grace sat at the table, their chairs pulled close so Ash could drape his arm behind her. Levi and Logan sat across from each other and whatever Logan had just said had actually made Levi crack a smile.