“I know,” Grace said. “So close. Everything is pretty much done. Between my sisters-in-law and Cara, I’ve barely had to do anything.”
Weddings were not my favorite thing. As kids, Gram had dragged us to every wedding in our extended family, stuffing us into suits and ties that we’d shed at the earliest opportunity.
But ever since Carly, I hadn’t just disliked weddings because of the monkey suits. I’d hated weddings. I’d never let myself admit it, but they made me jealous. Because the lucky bastard at the altar had what I’d thought I’d found. Which had turned out to be nothing but a big fucking heartbreak.
Listening to the girls talk about Grace and Asher’s upcoming wedding, I realized something. I was looking forward to it. Mostly because I was happy for my brother. He’d waited a long time to marry Grace.
But Carly hadn’t been my only chance. I’d known for a long time that marrying her would have been a huge mistake. In a way, she’d done me a favor by cheating on me with my best friend. She hadn’t left any room for doubt. But I’d always assumed that she’d been it. She’d fucked me up badly enough that I wasn’t going to try again. I wasn’t ever going to be the guy at the altar. And it pissed me off, because deep down, that was what I’d always wanted.
To find my other half. Like Gram and Grandad. Like my parents.
I’d been built for it. I think we all were; Asher was just the first of us to figure it out.
I gazed at Fiona and fingered a strand of her hair while she smiled and talked. I wasn’t dreading my brother’s wedding, and it was because of her. Because she was mine. My other half. I’d found her. And sure, we weren’t ready to walk down the aisle yet. But we would be someday. And just knowing that made everything else—the car, the shop, the feud, all of it—fade into the background.
So this was what happy felt like.
I took a sip of my beer and when I looked up, a pair of blue eyes were staring at me from across the bar.
Was that Jill? Why was she looking at me like that?
She was with two other girls I didn’t know. One leaned close and said something. Jill nodded. Her eyes never leaving me, she marched over to our table and stopped with her hands on her hips.
“So this is how it ends,” Jill said.
I glanced at Fiona in confusion, then back at Jill, not sure what to say to that. What was she talking about? “This is how what ends?”
She shook her head slowly. “I’ve given you too many chances. I’m sorry, Evan, but it’s over.”
“What’s over?”
“Us.”
I stared at her. “There’s no us. We’ve never dated.”
“I warned you. I told you that you were going to lose me someday. And now you have.” With a flip of her hair, she turned and walked away.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked no one in particular.
“You never went out with her?” Asher asked.
“Not even once.”
Asher took a sip of his beer. “Sometimes you reap what you sow.”
I put an arm around Fiona. “Sometimes you dodge a fucking bullet.”
Fiona leaned into me. “I feel kind of bad for her. I think she’s been dating you in her imagination this whole time.”
“I guess it’s good she broke up with me, then,” I said. “I’ve been fake cheating on her for a while.”
Fiona laughed.
Cara glanced toward the front and scowled. “Fiona, if you stay with Evan, you’re really going to have to consider the ramifications of becoming a Bailey. Namely being related to that.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Logan came in with a girl I didn’t know on his arm. She wore a low-cut top and tight jeans. Dark hair loose around her shoulders. Lots of makeup. Pretty enough, but she had nothing on my girl.
“Oh my god, is that Dani?” Grace asked.
Cara’s mouth dropped open. “It is. What’s she doing here? And why is she with prince dickhead?”
“I have no idea.”
Grace waved and Logan brought his date—Dani, apparently—to our table.
“Hey, Dani,” Grace said. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Dani squealed and ran over to hug Grace and Cara. “You guys! I didn’t know you still lived here.”
Logan gaped at his date. “You know them?”
“Yeah, I did a semester at Tilikum College.”
“Look at you, hottie,” Cara said. “I love this top.”
“Thanks. I was feeling sassy.”
“What are you doing in Tilikum?” Grace asked.
“My aunt owns a little cabin by the river so I came out to recharge. Me time, you know? My boss has been a huge dick lately, so I needed a break.”
Cara touched Grace on the arm. “Boo, why don’t you scoot over so Dani can sit.”
“Good idea.” Grace nudged Asher so he’d move to the empty chair on his other side.
Dani took a seat across from Fiona. Logan’s face fell.
“Might as well sit,” Asher said, and I kicked out the chair next to me.
Logan slumped into the chair and narrowed his eyes at Cara.
Her lips twitched in the hint of a smile.
Grace was busy introducing Dani to Fiona.
“How do you know Logan?” Grace asked.
“Oh, we met at the Zany Zebra earlier. He struck up a conversation and asked me out tonight. I figured, why not?”
“Well, we won’t keep you,” Grace said. “I’m just so surprised to see you.”
“What do you want to drink?” Cara asked. “It’s on me.”
“Thanks, sweetie. I’d love a margarita, but I’ll come with you. Hey, remember shooting pool together in this place?”
“There’s a table open,” Cara said. “We should totally play.”
“That would be so fun,” Dani said, then turned to Logan. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Logan faked a smile. “No, go ahead.”
Grace gave Asher a quick kiss. “We’ll be back. Fiona, want to join us?”
I moved my arm off Fiona’s chair and winked at her. “Have fun.”
Fiona and Grace went to one of the pool tables while Cara and Dani headed for the bar.
Logan looked like he was ready to blow a gasket. His jaw hitched and his nostrils flared. “Is she fucking kidding me?”
“Looks like you lost your date,” Asher said. “Although, was she really a date or just your hookup for the night?”
“I was going to buy her a drink. That’s a date.”
I shook my head. “I’ll get you a beer.”
We spent the rest of our night having a few drinks and watching the girls play pool. It only took Logan about five minutes to stop pouting. We had a good time. Despite the shit show waiting for me back at home, it was nice to relax with my brothers for a while.
Watching Fiona’s ass when she bent over the pool table wasn’t bad either. In fact, it was the best part of my night.
35
Fiona
After the police finished gathering evidence in the shop and around Evan’s property, he doubled down on the Pontiac, working hard to get it finished in time. It had been badly damaged, but it was nothing a guy like Evan couldn’t fix, given the right parts and enough time.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have either of those things.
I thought a lot about calling my dad to confront him. Demand he tell me the truth and admit he’d had someone trash Evan’s shop.
But Jack had asked me not to contact him yet—to let the police do their job first.
And what did I expect my father to do? Be honest? Apologize? I had a feeling I’d only be setting myself up for disappointment.
I did, however, want to find a way to make it up to Evan.
When we took a close look at all the damage, the biggest problem was the convertible carriage. It was too broken to repair. He needed a replacement, but that wasn’t as simple as running down to the auto parts store and buying one. Or even wandering through someone’s
wrecking yard. This was an extremely rare car, and for this type of restoration, it needed to be as authentic as possible.
So I made it my mission to find a replacement.
And for the next week, I hit nothing but dead ends.
A guy I knew outside of Tacoma had the body of a ’72, but it wasn’t a convertible. He referred me to someone he swore would have what we needed. Turned out he had several convertible carriages, but none of them were from a Pontiac. Another place had the convertible body of a ’69, but no carriage. I made phone call after phone call, tracking down every lead—no luck.
But I was nothing if not determined.
I shut the office door to drown out the noise of Evan working. Next on my list was Craig Shelton. If he had one, he’d probably price-gouge the hell out of me, but at this point, I was getting desperate.
“This is Craig,” he answered.
“Hey, this is Fiona Gallagher with Bailey Customs.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m on the hunt for something pretty rare. The convertible carriage for a 1970 Pontiac GTO.”
“Bailey really did get his hands on the Judge?”
“He did, and it’s gorgeous. But the convertible carriage has too much damage to restore, and as I’m sure you can imagine, tracking down a replacement isn’t easy. Do you have something similar out there?”
“I hate to tell you this. I used to, but I sold it a while back.”
“Oh my god, are you serious?”
“Yep. I had a ’70 convertible body. Guts and interior were all gone and most of the body wasn’t really salvageable. But it had enough to be a donor car for a better project, even the Judge. Pretty sure that’s what the guy bought it for.”
“Who’d you sell it to?” I asked, although I had a feeling I already knew the answer.
“Guy by the name of Luke Haven.”
Closing my eyes, I let out a breath. “Okay. Thanks anyway.”
“Good luck.”
I ended the call and dropped the phone on the desk. Of course Luke Haven would be the best lead I had left.
Was there any chance he’d actually sell it to Evan? Would Evan buy it if Luke agreed?
How deep did this feud really go?
The problem was, I’d looked everywhere. No one within a day’s drive had what he needed. And he couldn’t finish the car without it.
I thought about the Stitch and Sip ladies. Marlene Haven sat there right alongside several Bailey women. They’d told me Stitch and Sip was feud-neutral because sometimes the women of this town had to go around the men when the feud was making them get in their own way.
Maybe this was one of those times.
I wasn’t going to lie to Evan. I’d never do that. But if I told him what I was trying to do before I did it, he’d try to talk me out of it. I’d tell him once I’d secured the deal—and then I’d talk him into using it despite where it had come from.
Assuming Luke still had it, and would sell it to Evan. Heck, I didn’t know if Luke would even talk to me.
But I had an idea.
“What do you think, Edith?” I asked my office plant. “Can I pull this off?”
I wasn’t sure. But I had to try.
I parked outside Luke’s shop, feeling a pang of guilt. What right did I have to ask him to do me a favor? I’d helped Evan buy a rare and valuable car out from under him. Then I’d turned down his job offer and said no to a date. I’d rejected this guy pretty hard, not to mention the fact that I was now living with—and sleeping with—his sworn enemy.
But I wasn’t going to ask him to give me something for nothing. That wasn’t how this business worked. And if I could talk grumpy Evan Bailey into going on a road trip with me to try to buy a rare Pontiac, maybe I could convince Luke Haven that we could help each other.
With my heart beating hard and my stomach swirling with nerves, I went into the front office.
Annika was at the front desk again. She smiled when she saw me. At least there was one friendly face in Haven territory.
“Hi, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Fiona Gallagher.”
“I do.” She narrowed her eyes. “What brings you in here?”
“I know, it’s weird because of the Bailey-Haven thing. But I need to talk to Luke. I’m hoping I can go around the feud. I have a good reason and I’ll make it worth his while.”
She shrugged. “You can sure try. I’ll go get him.”
“Thanks.”
Minutes ticked by and I wandered around the room, eying the photos again. I took a quick picture of the racing photos, including one of John Haven. I figured Grace and Cara might like to see it.
Was Luke busy? Or was Annika having a hard time convincing him to see me?
Finally, he came out and by his expression, it had probably been the latter. Annika elbowed him on her way past.
“Come on back,” he said.
I followed him through the garage to his office. He shut the door behind me. This time, he sat at his desk, rather than on the couch.
Keeping it professional.
That was good.
I sat in a chair on the other side of his desk.
“I didn’t hit Evan’s shop,” he said.
My mouth popped open in surprise. “No, I know you didn’t. That’s not why I came.”
“Oh. I figured he sent you in to get a confession out of me.”
“No, not at all. In fact, he doesn’t know I’m here.”
His forehead creased. “Then why are you here?”
I took a deep breath. “Whoever did hit Evan’s shop did a lot of damage to the Pontiac.”
His eyes tightened with a pained expression. Any car guy would mourn the loss of a rare specimen like the Judge.
“He can fix most of it, although I don’t know if he can finish in time for the show. He’s going to try, but it’ll be tight. Anyway, the biggest problem now is the convertible carriage. It’s too badly damaged to fix and I’ve looked everywhere for a suitable replacement. I can’t find one anywhere.”
“And you heard I have one.”
I nodded.
He pitched his fingers together. “Well, isn’t this interesting. Evan Bailey buys the car I want out from under me and now I have the part he needs to finish it.”
“Look, I get it, you guys hate each other, and this is probably a dream scenario for you. What better way to stick it to your sworn enemy than sit on the part he needs.”
“Pretty much.”
My heart sank. “Would it kill you to put aside your animosity for him this one time?”
“Do you really think he would if the tables were turned?”
“Yes.”
He gave me a doubtful scowl.
“I really think he would. He’s a good man, and I think you are too. You’re both just so used to hating each other, you expect the worst. How did this even start? Is it really just because you’re competitors?”
Luke shook his head. “Evan and I have been fighting over shit since we were kids.”
I groaned. “You guys are ridiculous. Your families are feuding because reasons and you hate Evan because you always have.”
“It’s hardly one-sided.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that.” I took another deep breath. I was not giving up yet. There was too much at stake. “I know you’re going to think I’m crazy, considering the circumstances, but hear me out for a second. And I swear to you this isn’t a prank. You have something Evan needs. You don’t want to sell it to him because he’s Evan Bailey.”
He nodded.
“But what if I can help you get something you need in exchange for selling him the convertible carriage?”
“Like what?”
I bit the inside of my lip. This was a long shot, but I had to try. “Are you still working on the Mustang that I saw last time I was here? The ’69 Boss?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have the original gauges for it?”
He narrowed his
eyes again. “Not the originals, no.”
A spark of hope flared to life inside me. “What if I could help you get the originals? Those are hard to find and it would go a long way toward making your build more authentic.”
“You’ll get me a set of gauges for the Mustang if I’ll sell Evan the convertible carriage?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the catch?”
“Other than you have to sell a rare part to Evan Bailey? The gauges aren’t for sale. But I think I can talk the guy who has them into parting with them.”
Luke rubbed his chin, eying me like he was trying to find the hole in my plan. Or maybe deciding how best to dash all my hopes.
I waited, crossing my toes inside my shoes. Come on, Luke. Please.
“I might regret this, but fine.”
Relief made me bounce in my seat. “Thank you.”
“But if you can’t get me the gauges—”
“You’ll maybe still sell him the convertible carriage because I tried?”
He groaned. “Maybe.”
“I’ll take that for now.”
I called the guy I knew—Denny Horace—right then and there and asked if we could come see his set of ’69 Mustang Boss gauges. I wanted to get this deal done before Luke had time to change his mind. Denny agreed, although he didn’t say he’d sell them.
One thing at a time.
“Do you want to just ride with me?” Luke asked. “Or would it be too disloyal to be in a truck with a Haven, since you’re basically a Bailey now.”
Basically a Bailey now. I loved the sound of that. “I can ride with you. It’s not that big of a deal.”
We went out the back and got in Luke’s truck. He drove a Toyota Tacoma extended cab, almost exactly like Evan’s. They were like two sides of the same coin. I wondered if they’d grown up differently—without a feud—if they’d have been friends instead of enemies.
Then again, their competitiveness seemed pretty personal.
“Who’s this guy we’re going to see?” Luke asked. “Is he a car guy? I’ve never heard of him.”
“Sort of. He’s a collector. Not just cars. He used to be one of those barn hunters. He’d travel around and go through people’s junk. He had a knack for finding rare collectibles that people thought were trash. He’d buy and then restore old artifacts. He has a lot of cool stuff.”
Unraveling Him: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 3) Page 26
