by Devney Perry
I truly hadn’t minded floating him some money. After everything Jeremiah had done for me, I could afford to indulge my fiancé.
I’d loved him. Once.
Or maybe I’d loved the boy he’d been.
He was in the past now. Any affection had shriveled up and suffered an angry death during the past six weeks.
Sleepless, miserable, humiliating nights had a way of turning love into resentment.
Maybe the reason Dash hadn’t attempted to hire a replacement manager for the garage was because he’d hoped things would turn out this way. I couldn’t blame him. He’d seen Jeremiah’s true colors when I hadn’t.
Still, wedding disaster aside, I was lucky. I was happier now than I had been as a kid. I had my modest home with a landlord who’d been overjoyed when I’d asked her if I could stay.
My life looked exactly the same as it had before June, sans Jeremiah.
I had my independence, and that was more precious to me than all the dollars in my savings account.
The boxes I’d packed had been unpacked. I hadn’t had to pawn an engagement ring because Jeremiah hadn’t bought me one; he’d wanted to save that money for our life together. Lies.
Jeremiah was nothing like the men here at the garage. Dash had put a ring on Bryce’s finger weeks after they’d met. He’d married her almost as quickly. When Emmett and Leo met the women destined to ride on the backs of their motorcycles, they’d do the same.
When had I become a pushover? Here I was, thinking I’d become this strong, independent woman over the past ten years. But maybe I’d become what I feared most—my mother.
Was I a doormat for everyone? Or had Jeremiah been my weak point? I’d ponder those questions later tonight, when I was home alone and again shrouded in self-doubt and shame.
“How’s your house?” I asked Genevieve, more than ready to shove Jeremiah out of my mind.
“It’s coming along.” She smiled. “Isaiah keeps telling me not to be in such a hurry to get it decorated, but I can’t seem to stop ordering stuff online. I’m just ready to have a home. These last three years with school, everything has felt so temporary. The year before that too. I want stability.”
“I get that.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
I leaned forward. “Always.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?” My hands flew to my mouth, then up in the air. “Oh my God. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
She beamed. “It’s early but we’re so excited.”
I stood and rounded the desk, bending down to pull her into a hug. “You’re going to be the best mom.”
Genevieve had the heart of a mother—a good mother. Unlike my own, she’d never let her children suffer.
“Thanks. I needed to hear that. I wish my mom was here so I could ask her questions.”
I hugged her tighter.
“We haven’t told many people yet,” she said as I returned to my chair.
I zipped my lips shut.
The door between the office and the shop opened and the guys burst inside. Isaiah immediately went to kiss his wife. Emmett and Leo dove into the fridge.
“I forgot to tell you something last night,” Leo said, his mouth full as he sat beside Emmett underneath the window.
“Last night?” Isaiah looked between the two of us.
I waved it off. “I collected his drunk ass from The Betsy.”
Leo swallowed his bite. “I saw this chick who, swear to God, looked just like you.”
My body tensed. There was one chick who looked like me but . . . no. Impossible. “You were drunk, Leo. Very, very drunk.”
“True.” He chomped another bite of his ham and swiss.
“No one looks like Pres.” Emmett chuckled. “She’s the only fairy sprite in Clifton Forge.”
I rolled my eyes. “One Halloween. One. And I’ll never live it down.”
“Live what down?” Genevieve asked.
“Let me tell it.” Emmett held up a hand before I could talk. “So Pres had been working here for a couple of years. She wasn’t twenty-one yet and Draven would have smothered us with our own pillows if we’d invited her to the party at the clubhouse. We decided to have a party here after work. We all clocked out and Pres disappears into the bathroom. She comes out dressed as a fairy. Wand and everything.”
“Okay,” Genevieve drawled. “Why is that funny?”
“Ask her where she bought the costume.”
“The kids’ section,” Leo blurted. “None of us would have teased her about it except she left the tags on.”
Emmett and Leo burst into hysterics.
“I’m a small person!” I shouted over their laughter, fighting my own smile. I’d never understood why that story amused them so much, but they always laughed, and I liked their laughs. “I hope you choke on your food.” I feigned a scowl. “These dickheads called me Pixie for months.”
“Anyway,” Leo said. “This girl looked just like you except she had long hair.”
The tension returned, mounting. Could it have been . . . no. There was no way Scarlett was anywhere near Clifton Forge. If she were here, I’d know about it. “You’re not to be trusted when you’re wearing beer goggles.”
He chuckled. “True.”
“What’s on the board for the rest of the day?” Emmett asked.
I rattled off the list of scheduled appointments. Being a Friday, both he and Isaiah wanted to leave early, so they offered to take some of the oil changes and help out Sawyer and Tyler.
Genevieve hugged me goodbye and declared she was going home to take a nap. Isaiah escorted her to her car and kissed her goodbye before returning to work.
The noise in the shop picked up as I resumed working on payroll. When the door opened, I looked up, expecting to see the customer scheduled for a tire rotation. Instead, I was met with a pair of golden-brown eyes that had not been haunting me for two weeks.
“Ugh,” I groaned as my heart skipped. “You again?”
“I’ve missed you too.” The corner of Shaw’s mouth turned up.
Other women probably called that mouth delectable. Not me. Never me.
“What do you want?” I carefully kept my tone flat.
If Shaw Valance knew that he made my pulse race, there’d be no tolerating him. His ego barely fit through the door as it was. He’d think it was attraction that made my voice shaky. That I liked having him here, when this physical reaction was nothing more than irritation.
I was on edge because Shaw was well practiced at delivering a line, and nothing he said could be trusted.
“I was hoping to see how my bike is coming along.”
“Dash isn’t here today. You’ll have to come back next week.”
Isaiah was actually working on Shaw’s bike, but he didn’t need to know the details.
I focused on my screen. The muscles in my legs were bunched tight to keep my foot from bouncing on the floor, and I held my breath, eyes forward, waiting for him to leave.
The chair across from mine dragged on the carpet as he took a seat.
A low growl rumbled in my chest.
Shaw chuckled and—sweet Jesus—his voice was so smooth, like a satin ribbon running through my fingers. It was deep but not too deep. Low but not quiet.
Irritating. The man was wholly irritating.
I hadn’t resorted to googling Shaw yet, but I had spent my sleepless nights over the past two weeks watching all his movies. His voice had lulled me to sleep. A secret I’d take to the grave.
“Like I said, Dash isn’t here.” As in, go away.
The last thing I needed was a superstar invading more of my life. I’d let him do that enough with just the one visit.
What the fuck kind of name was Shaw Valance anyway? I would have bet my life it was a stage name and not his legal name. I guess it could still be fake; maybe he’d legally changed his name. But something about the way he’d said it felt familiar, like he’d been saying it his whole
life.
His gaze burned a hot trail down my body as he took me in. It was times like this that made me wish I still had my long hair to drape over my tiny breasts.
I’d worn a pair of boyfriend jeans today. They were baggy and cinched tight around my waist with a camo cloth belt. But it was hot outside so I’d paired it with a thin black tank top. The red straps of my bra showed from collarbone to shoulder blade.
Shaw’s gaze was locked on those red bands. “I’d like to watch.”
What? Watch? Me?
“The bike,” he added. “I’d like to observe, maybe learn a few things as they build it.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flamed, something else hard to hide with short hair.
I was an idiot. Why would a famous actor want to watch me? He wouldn’t. Besides, I didn’t want him here either. I was busy and the way he wore his jeans, loose but not too loose, was an unnecessary distraction.
He was too . . . polished. Too refined. Too perfect. I wasn’t going for perfect. I was going for good enough.
Because good enough wouldn’t shatter my soul.
“Why?” I asked. Didn’t he have better things to do than lurk at a small-town garage?
He shrugged. “I’ve always been interested in cars and motorcycles. While I’m here, I’d like to see how it’s done.”
“No.” No way in hell. I could not have this man around me for weeks on end. “Don’t you have a movie to make?”
“I’ll have free time between shooting.”
“It’s a liability. You can’t be in the garage. Employees only.”
“Hire me as an employee. I’ll work for free.”
“No.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “How much?”
“This isn’t a negotiation or something you can buy with your platinum credit card.”
I’d never touched a credit card like Shaw’s before. It was heavier than the ones we mere mortals were granted for our wallets. Hell, he could buy the house next door to mine with one swipe.
“How much?” he asked again. “Just to observe. I promise to stay out of the way.”
“Were your parents the type who never said no to you as a child?”
“I understand the meaning of no.”
“Do you though?” I raised an eyebrow.
Neither of us was going to give. He’d probably go over my head and ask Dash. Most men didn’t like being told no by a woman, let alone a woman the size of a teenager.
“This is the safe zone, right? A place for the public?” He lifted a finger and twirled it in a circle. “I can observe through the window in that door.”
“Excuse me?”
“That window.” He shifted and pointed to the door. “I’ll just watch from here. Probably better that way anyway. You can keep me company. Hours between shoots are boring.”
“Then read a book. Go hiking. Work on your tan.”
“Nah.” He grinned. The son of a bitch knew he was getting to me. Was this how Dash had felt when Shaw had backed him into a corner with that stock Harley bullshit?
If he were bluffing, I would have stood my ground. But I had no doubt that Shaw would show up here each and every morning to stand beside the door and irritate me for hours.
“You’ll have to sign an insurance waiver.”
Sorry, Isaiah. I was passing this nuisance off to him. Hopefully Dash would boot his ass out of the shop.
“Happy to.” His grin turned into an arrogant smile as he stood and walked to the door. “Goodbye, Presley.”
I ignored him. I ignored the way my name sounded in his voice.
I ignored that chuckle, that glorious fucking chuckle, as it echoed in the office long after he’d closed the door.
Chapter Four
Presley
“You were supposed to kick him out,” I grumbled.
Dash scoffed. “You’re the one who had him sign the insurance waiver.”
“Which I thought you’d tear in half.”
“Well . . . I’ve been thinking about it.” Dash rubbed his jaw. “What better place to keep tabs on him than here? I don’t have to go anywhere. The asshole comes to me.”
My lip curled. “This is not how I’d imagined this going.”
“Hey, at least he’s not in the office, bothering you.”
“Yeah,” I muttered as Shaw crouched beside Isaiah.
Dash and I were standing at the other end of the shop, watching as Isaiah pointed out various parts on the bike’s engine and frame. Shaw nodded along, licking it up like he was actually committing it to memory, but the guy was an actor.
He was a professional faker.
It had been nearly a week since Shaw had come by the office wanting to watch. Monday had passed without a visit. I’d been on edge Tuesday and Wednesday, waiting for him to show. But this morning, I’d been relaxed as I’d unlocked the door, thinking we were home free. I’d foolishly gotten my hopes up that he’d been busy with the movie and had forgotten about the garage.
Not thirty minutes after I’d flipped on the neon OPEN sign, Shaw’s black Cadillac had rolled into the space beside my Jeep, and when he’d entered the office, he hadn’t balked at the insurance waiver.
The word around town was that Shaw was staying at the Evergreen Motel along with other members of the cast and crew. The KOA campground was filled with shiny white and silver trailers. The other two motels were rumored to have a zero-vacancy rate starting in two weeks when more of the crew and cast arrived.
Everyone was talking about the movie. The cashier at the grocery store. The girl at the coffee hut. My next-door neighbor and Mrs. Franklin across the street. The town was buzzing.
Last night, I’d gone to the salon for a quick trim and my hair stylist had talked about Shaw the entire time.
Have you seen him? He’s so hawt. I saw him jogging down Central yesterday morning and about died.
Shaw. Shaw. Shaw.
I was so sick of that damn name, except when he’d swaggered into the office and flashed me his killer grin, my traitorous heart had skipped.
Dash had been in his office reviewing the parts order, so I’d let him deal with Shaw. Meanwhile, I’d snubbed our guest like it was my superpower.
“We need to find out what the movie is about,” Dash said quietly. “I know you don’t like the guy. I don’t either. But let’s play along. See if he’ll tell us what it’s about. I don’t really give a fuck what they’re doing, but Genevieve does.”
My sweet friend was having a hard time with this movie. Genevieve was scared about how they’d portray her mother and father. She didn’t care at all that she’d be a character in the film too. She simply fretted over the memory of those she held most dear.
“You’re right.” I sighed. “I’ll be civil.”
“Thanks.” He squeezed my shoulder.
“I’m going back to work.” I left Dash in the shop, who continued watching Shaw, as I retreated to my desk.
So much for keeping Shaw at a firm distance, but Dash had a fair point. For Genevieve, I’d put my own feelings aside.
None of us knew exactly what the movie was about or what type of story they planned to tell. The script was a mystery and not even the mayor or Luke Rosen had a clue to the movie’s plot—Dash had called Luke on Monday.
We knew it was about Amina’s murder. Obviously, Marcus Wagner would be a focal point since he was her killer. But what about Draven? What about the garage? Would there be mention of the Tin Gypsies or the Arrowhead Warriors?
The old rivalry between clubs had flared up a few years ago during Draven’s trial, but it had ended peacefully, and the Warriors had stayed out of Clifton Forge ever since. As far as I knew, the only person who’d had contact with them since was me, and that was because Jeremiah had dragged me into their world.
If I’d wanted to see him, I’d had to drive to Ashton and stay in his room at the Warrior clubhouse.
It wasn’t until I’d walked through one of the wild Warrior parties that I’d understood why
Draven had kept me far away from the Tin Gypsies when I’d been young.
The booze had flowed like a river, past shores of drugs and islands of scantily clad women. My first Warrior party was the first time I’d seen someone snort a line of cocaine.
About a year ago, I’d gone to visit Jeremiah like I had nearly every weekend. The two of us had been alone in his room, on his bed, watching a movie while a party raged beyond.
I’d tried the party scene, for Jeremiah, but after my tenth visit, I’d told him I was done. So he’d given them up too, choosing to stay with me in his room on Friday and Saturday nights instead of drinking with his brothers.
We’d been in the middle of the latest Jurassic Park movie when the door had burst open and a naked woman had stumbled inside. She’d gotten the rooms mixed up. In the middle of her slurred apology, she’d bent over and puked on the end of the bed and over my feet.
Had I been replaced with a skank who was drinking her daddy issues away? Jeremiah of all people knew I had daddy issues of my own. Maybe it had been a turn-off that I’d battled my demons, for the most part, alone. When Jeremiah had found me in Clifton Forge, I hadn’t needed him to rescue me.
Was he rescuing someone now?
The idea of him with another woman made me grimace. The week after the non-wedding, I’d gone to the clinic to be tested. I’d barely been able to make eye contact with the doctor. The results had come back clean, but I still wondered if Jeremiah had been faithful while we’d been together.
Had he loved me? Or had I just been easy sex on a Friday and Saturday night? It wasn’t like sex at the Warrior clubhouse didn’t come easily to any man wearing a cut. Jeremiah was easy on the eyes and hadn’t needed me to get off.
So why had he stayed with me only to leave me so brutally on our wedding day?
Damn it, I wanted an answer. I wanted the chance to yell and scream in his face, but I refused to reach out.
I would not seek him out. I would not waver.
I would not be my mother and accept whatever excuse he’d throw out.
The door between the shop and office opened and Shaw walked in. My mood, already sour, nose-dived, yet my heart rate spiked. This man had my insides twisted, pulling in opposite directions. I frowned as he took his normal chair across from my desk, but my breath hitched as he grinned.