Dirty Deeds (Mechanics of Love #3)

by Megan Erickson

  Jack smiled, an eerie smile that was all teeth. “You think I give a fuck? You think I don’t know the captain of the local police? You think any of them are gonna give a shit if some stuck-up New Yorker gets a black eye?”

  “They probably wouldn’t mind a bloody nose either,” Brent said.

  “I’m sure they’d even look past a broken arm,” Cal said nonchalantly.

  Alex was vibrating. The only thing holding her back from not running to Nick and swinging her fists was Honeybear at her side and Brent’s hand clamped on her arm.

  Nick looked less certain now, although he clung to his bravado like it was a life preserver, tilting his chin up and refusing to look away from Jack’s glare.

  The fury inside Alex was building now, and her hackles were raised. This was her family, this was her livelihood, and while they couldn’t take this land without Jack’s consent, this was still a threat. Spencer’s company wanted the very soil she stood on and he’d neglected to tell her that while they made love under the stars.

  Fuck him. And fuck Nick. And fuck all hotels. Fuck the whole goddamn city of New York. She blinked rapidly as the pain swelled in her chest.

  This was just like Robby all over again. A man reeling her in and then changing who he was. At least Robby had done it to her face. Spencer had done it behind her back. He’d pretended to be the white knight. A savior. When all along, he’d known that everything she held dear was under attack.

  Her teeth pulled back into a snarl and, while she wasn’t a violent person, she envisioned her fist slamming into Nick’s face.

  She opened her mouth to defend herself, her honor, but screeching tires outside the shop drew their attention.

  SPENCER SAW NICK’S car in the parking lot of Payton and Sons and wanted to throw up.

  “What’s Nick doing here?” Penny muttered, her brow furrowed.

  He loved Penny but he hated this about her, how she seemed to not see what kind of person Nick was. She loved him unconditionally, and Spencer often wondered what their relationship was like behind closed doors.

  He couldn’t think about that now, not while he squinted through the drizzle into the dirty windows to the office. He saw several people in there, so he jumped out of the car and jogged to the front door, Penny at his heels.

  When he opened the door, he stepped inside and stopped abruptly.

  Jack had Nick pressed against the wall. Cal was standing behind the counter, shoulders tensed, and Alex and Brent were in front of the other office door that led into the garage, Honeybear at Alex’s side.

  They all were looking at him, and they all looked downright pissed off.

  Nick had already brought the tornado, and now he was going to have to clean up the mess. He held his hands up, palms out. “Look—”

  “Fuck you.” Brent pointed a finger at him. “And I’d say fuck you to Nick’s wife too, but I was told not to swear at women. But you all came to this town and acted like our friends and then did all this shit behind our backs. And frankly, we don’t like you very much.”

  “Good speech, Brent,” Cal said.

  Brent rolled his shoulders. “Thanks.”

  Spencer looked at Alex pleadingly, but her face was blank. His heart ached and he took a step forward, but Jack turned away from Nick, effectively freezing Spencer where he stood. Spencer licked his lips and tried again, knowing he needed to speak to Alex privately soon, but right now he wanted to defuse the situation. “I’m not sure what Nick told you, but whatever he said was out of line. This is completely against our policy to—”

  “Fuck your policy,” Jack said.

  Spencer took a deep breath to calm his own anger. The Paytons clearly used fuck a lot when they were angry. He didn’t blame them.

  He looked to Alex again, hoping maybe she’d speak up, maybe she’d call off the three guard dogs and the real actual canine at her feet, but again, he was met with a blank look. Alex had checked out. Shit.

  Spencer changed tactics and looked at Nick. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “You’re the one who didn’t tell your girlfriend we’ve been looking at this land for months,” he said.

  “Nick!” Penny spat.

  “Correction,” Spencer said. “You were looking at this location. I crossed it off my list and recommended the one I told Alex about.” He turned to her again. “Remember I told you that, Alex? The land over by MacMillan Investments.”

  She didn’t move or acknowledge that he spoke to her.

  He sighed and rubbed his forehead, then looked at Cal, thinking he was the one who was the most reasonable out of the three men. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Royalty was going to seriously consider this location. And Nick had no right coming down here to talk to you about it instead of waiting on the proper channels.”

  Cal seemed to think on that. Then he leaned on the counter. “Apology not accepted. Now I’d like the three of you to leave before I call the police. As of now, you’re trespassing.”

  Spencer could absolutely not get arrested. Not as a British citizen in the United States on a work visa. He swallowed and nodded. “Okay, I—I am sorry. For what it’s worth.”

  Cal met his gaze steadily. “It ain’t worth shit.”

  Spencer ducked his head, listening as Penny left, Nick’s arm brushing his as he walked past him. It took all his strength not to reach out and strangle the guy.

  “Please, can I just speak to Alex?” Spencer asked.

  Brent turned his head to her. She looked up at him, shook her head once, and with the action, Spencer’s heart cracked.

  Brent shrugged. “Her choice and she said no. Time for you to leave.”

  “Alex,” Spencer whispered, hoping to appeal to her, but she’d turned her head, purposefully staring away from him. He wanted to see her eyes again, the bright blue shining with happiness, not unshed tears of anger.

  “You got ten seconds to get out the door,” Jack said, taking another step toward Spencer.

  He backed up, his hand on the door behind him. “Alex, I can explain. You know where to find me if you want to hear it—Room 333.” And then he was out the door, because Jack was coming for him and he knew his time was up.

  Out in the parking lot, Penny and Nick were facing off. Spencer had never seen her this furious. And Nick looked more scared now in a fight with his wife than he had back there with six feet four inches of pissed-off mechanic.

  “This is so out of line, Nick, I don’t even know where to start,” Penny was saying.

  Spencer wanted words with Nick too. But they needed to get off the property. And he needed time alone to deal with what he’d just lost. “Guys, we need to get in the cars and leave.”

  They ignored him. “We have proper steps for a reason,” Penny said. “They might have been persuaded to sell, but now they’ll just dig their heels in on principle. I cannot believe you!”

  Nick’s nostrils flared. “They’ll see the money and roll over. They always do.”

  Spencer shook his head. Not these people.

  “I’ll have to tell my father you did this, you realize that, right?”

  “He doesn’t need—”

  “Yes, he does need to know. You accused Spencer of taking this entire project personally, but what the hell was that back there? You’ve been taking this whole thing personally—this competition between the two of you—and you forgot to remember these are real people’s lives we’re affecting.”

  “I didn’t forget that,” Nick said.

  “You did,” Penny shot back. “You did. And I don’t know if I can deal with this.”

  Nick took a step forward with his hand out. “What does that mean?”

  She wrenched open the door to Spencer’s car. “I think you know.” She turned to Spencer. “Let’s go.” Then she sat inside and slammed the door behind her.

  Spencer wasted no time rounding the car and getting into the driver’s seat. When they pulled out of the parking lot, Nick was still standing in the same spot, sta
ring after their car.

  “I hope they do call the police on him. I hope he gets arrested.” Penny was mumbling beside him, staring out the window, lost in her anger.

  Spencer didn’t respond. He didn’t have the energy. And that told him something, that he couldn’t give a shit anymore about the job. He knew Nick would never get the promotion now, not once Penny told her father what he’d done. But Spencer didn’t care. Not one bit. For the first time in a long while, his thoughts weren’t about his job. They were about the little mechanic in Tory who’d stolen his heart. Who’d shown him there was more to life than money and a successful career.

  And he’d repaid her by betraying her with the very thing he was supposed to love—his job.

  He’d give it all up if he thought it would get her back, but that was wishful thinking. She wasn’t a pawn to be moved around in a game.

  She was Alex—smart and fun and scarred.

  And he’d reopened those wounds, hadn’t he?

  He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, startling Penny. But she didn’t say anything, just offered a comforting hand on his arm.

  But he didn’t want her arm, or her sad, reassuring smile.

  He wanted Alex. And he was pretty sure she was lost to him forever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  YOU KNOW WHERE to find me.

  Like that was going to happen. Like Alex was going to approach him on his turf, his hotel room.

  The only thing that made her feel slightly better was that this time, she wasn’t running. No way. This time, her broken heart made her even more determined to stay. Now he was running, back to where he came from with his tail between his legs. Back home where he probably had some posh apartment. And a house cleaner. And a chef.

  She had maintained a cool facade at the shop but in her apartment later that night, she felt anything but cool. Her whole body hurt from tensing it all day, listening for the rumble of Spencer’s Mercedes, thinking he would come back to finish what he started. To beg her again for her attention.

  Fuck that.

  He’d looked crushed. Heartbroken. But maybe he was a good actor. She didn’t think he’d gotten close to her because he had ulterior motives for the shop’s land. That was ridiculous. But it dug under her skin that he hadn’t told her or warned her or done something. If she meant to him what he said she did, why hadn’t he come clean?

  Maybe she’d only been something to pass the time. Maybe he didn’t care that much and he only felt guilty for hurting her, not sorry for losing her.

  She asked him for one thing, for this relationship to end peacefully, and that’d been shot to shit with one visit from that Nick asshole.

  The doorbell rang and Alex froze. It was either Spencer or Ivy. She sat on her bed quietly, wondering what she should do. Then her phone beeped a text message.

  Answer your door, jerk.

  Alex smiled. It was Ivy. She ran to her door and flung it open and then she had an armload of her sister, the first person to ever be there for her.

  Ivy rubbed her back. “Brent told me what happened.”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  Ivy pulled back. “Are you sure?”

  “Look, it’s not a big deal.”

  Ivy didn’t look convinced.

  Alex picked at her fingernails. “I’d really rather talk about something else.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ivy?”

  “Yeah?”

  Alex touched her hair where it lay in front of her shoulder. “Thanks for knowing I needed you here.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes, but her cheeks pinked, like she was pleased. “Duh, you’re my sister. We have that mental link or whatever. So I brought those mini doughnuts you like and some wine. Wanna get drunk?”

  Alex smiled. “Best idea ever.”

  BY THE TIME Alex rolled out of bed the next morning, she had a hangover and she was still thinking about Spencer.

  Brent had shown up to take Ivy home last night, while she giggled and told him she liked his face and his butt as he dragged her intoxicated butt out the door.

  Designated drivers were great.

  Alex, however, was alone, and now that the wine was no longer making her happy, she was right back to being miserable.

  Even Robby hadn’t had this effect on her. When she left him, she’d been plagued with fear and regret for staying with him for as long as she did. She’d never been filled with longing. She’d never missed him. At least, not the way he’d been in the end. She’d missed having someone, but that certainly wasn’t Robby.

  Now, she didn’t just miss having someone, she missed having a very certain someone. She missed Spencer. His voice and that accent. The sound of his car. The way he touched her, the way she could touch him. The whole package. She missed him.

  That asshole.

  By the time she managed some coffee and some food, she’d made up her mind to go to his hotel room. Because that wasn’t his turf. It was her turf. This whole damn town was her turf. She needed answers and she needed closure and until she got it, she wasn’t sure she could move on.

  She pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then tugged a hoodie over top. She wanted to be comfortable, dammit. But, of course, she smeared her trusty red lipstick on her lips and lined her eyes with eyeliner and applied mascara.

  When she looked in control—even though she felt nothing like it inside—she got in her truck and made her way to the Tory Inn.

  When she pulled into the parking lot, she silently conceded that the town could use another hotel. There were a couple of cracks along the foundation. One window was boarded up. Okay, so it was worse than Alex had thought. She had a little chuckle thinking about Penny staying here, then hopped down out of her truck.

  She didn’t bother stopping at the front desk. She remembered Spencer’s room number—333. She rode the elevator by herself, which had no tinny Muzak.

  The lights in the hallway were dim, the carpet a little stained and ripped in places. When she reached the door of Spencer’s room, she noticed the second three was a little crooked. She focused on that, took a deep breath, and knocked.

  Nothing.

  No sound at all.

  Not running water, not footsteps, not the TV. She knew, because she pressed her ear to the door.

  Her stomach rolled uneasily. Had he left? Like an idiot, she hadn’t even looked around for his car in the parking lot. Her palms began to sweat, and her knees shook. No, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was supposed to be her big grand fuck you. Where she’d look composed and kinda pretty and she’d tell him off. And now—

  “Alex?”

  Her name didn’t come from in front of her, where she still stared at the closed door. It came from her side. She turned slowly to see Spencer standing in the hallway, jacket on, holding his bags, key card in his hand.

  They stared at each other for a moment. He blinked rapidly at her, like he wasn’t sure he was seeing things right. “I, um, was about to leave actually, then realized I left my phone charging in the room.” He held up his key card. “Want to, um, come in?”

  She nodded, wishing he didn’t look so damn good in his suit and coat, so posh with his dark hair slicked back, his jaw stubbled.

  A silver watch peaked out from beneath his shirt.

  The hot British fucker.

  Spencer took a step toward her and she stepped back, well away so he had room to unlock the door. He frowned a little at the distance between them, but she didn’t apologize. That distance was his fault. Not hers.

  But yet as he opened the door and motioned for her to go in ahead of him, she wasn’t so sure she had the upper hand.

  Although she didn’t think he did either.

  It was like they were always destined to be completely lost around one another. Since this would be the last time she ever saw him, she didn’t dwell on it, and walked into his hotel room.

  HE NEVER LEFT his possessions behind. He traveled so much that he had
a system to prevent things like this from happening. But as he heard Alex’s breathing near him, he was so grateful for whatever made him leave his phone charging on a small table by the window.

  The funny thing was, she was the reason he left his phone. He’d been so preoccupied with his thoughts, with everything that had happened the day before, that his entire system had been off.

  He’d cursed it when he realized in the elevator that he’d left it. And now he was praising it.

  He dropped his bags on the bed and turned around as he took his jacket off and threw it on top of his bag.

  Alex stood near the door and watched him steadily, her hands shoved into the front pocket of her sweatshirt, her hood pulled up over her head. It shaded her eyes, made the blue irises sharper, the red of her lips brighter.

  She looked beautiful, even just standing there in her boots, jeans, and sweatshirt.

  But damn, she was here. She was actually here, and she wasn’t screaming at him or throwing things or clawing his eyes out, so he figured even if she heard him out and then turned and walked out of his life, at least they had closure.

  Which still made his chest ache.

  He took a deep breath and said the only thing that mattered. “I’m sorry.”

  She stared at him, and didn’t move or say a word. So he figured that was his cue to keep talking. Which he did, haltingly. “Yes, the Payton land was on my list, but I immediately discounted it. I didn’t recommend it at all and, in fact, it was the last on my list. I hadn’t known but my boss pitted Nick and me against each other for a promotion, and Tory was the competition site. Nick was in favor of the Payton location and said so, but I was . . . confident that I’d win. Overconfident. I’m good at my job, Alex. That’s why I have the money I do. That’s why I have no life but this job. So I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t think my boss would agree with Nick in any way and . . . ” He blew out a breath and hiked his hands on his hips. “I was wrong. I was wrong, and Nick is an asshole, and I’m sorry for that. I’m so, so sorry.”

  She blinked at him. “So you knew.”