Until Ireland

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Until Ireland Page 8

by Tl Reeve


  Jackson chucked the folder at me, and I caught it. I glanced at the clock. Even though I wanted to go home, get some dinner, and chill out on the couch for the night, now that I’d driven the Aston, I needed to begin work on it. Which meant I’d have to get everything written up and the part order in. Hopefully, I’d have all the items to begin work in the next couple of days. Some things I’d be able to do without delay.

  Like check out the transmission up close.

  It bugged me that the auction house told Mack the transmission was slipping when it was an easy and less expensive fix of just adjusting the clutch. Anyone who drove the Aston would’ve realized this was the issue, which confused me more. Nevertheless, until I got a personal look at the transmission, I wouldn’t know the full extent of why the clutch was out of adjustment, or worse, never had been.

  “You going home?”

  Jackson scratched his chin. “Was thinking about it. Landon is still here.” My overprotective brothers refused to allow me at the garage alone once night began to fall. I loved them for it, but I could take care of myself. “How long you going to be?”

  “At least an hour…hour and a half.”

  He nodded. “Want me to get us a couple of pizzas and wings for dinner tonight?”

  I contemplated the spicy heavy meal and if my stomach would accept it. “Yeah, that’ll work. We can watch End Game again. Also, can you make sure to order an everything special for me and can we go mild on the wings tonight instead of inferno?” I paused at his chuckle. “Can you get me some soda too? We’re out, and I’m not having anything remotely resembling alcohol tonight or the next month.”

  “Got it.” Jackson jingled his keys as he walked toward the door between the garage and the reception/office area. “I’ll let Land know about our dinner plans.”

  I waved him off, already busy making notes of the parts we’d need on my scratchpad. Once that was done, I headed toward the office and the lone computer sitting in the middle of the desk we all used. This was the tedious part of the job I hated. I’d been harassing Hunter for the last three months to hire someone, perhaps a kid from the local high school to fill out the forms and attach the amounts. He was dragging his feet. If he didn’t get it together, I was going to take on hiring someone myself and get it done.

  I tallied the amount of the parts, scribbling it on the folder, and keyed everything into the system. Figuring out labor was the bitch. I didn’t want to undercut the number of hours, because doing so meant we didn’t get paid for our work. The other side of the coin was if I inflated the hours, we ran the risk of having Mack, or any other customer, walk away and we’d lose the work.

  I played around with the figures for a good half hour before adding a little cushion. The Aston was an older car, and unexpected shit always happened. I made sure to note on the file that the billable hours could increase, depending on what happened once the work started.

  Unable to delay the inevitable anymore, I dialed the number Mack had left. After the third ring, I prepared myself to leave a message. I wouldn’t say I was bummed I couldn’t talk to him or anything, but hearing his voice would’ve been the cherry on the top of this mini sundae of an afternoon.

  When I heard the abrupt, “Yeah,” on the other end, it threw me. The tone didn’t sound at all like Mack’s. I pulled the phone away, confused by the timbre and anger radiating from the person.

  “Mack?” I asked.

  “No.” Again, it was hasty, bordering on perturbed, setting me on edge. “Hold on.”

  I could hear some conversation in the background. I swore Mack asked who it was, and the angry guy replied, “Some chick. Didn’t ask her name.”

  “Hello?” Mack’s husky voice had me unexpectedly shifting in the hard office chair Hunter refused to get rid of. His voice was a suave contrast to the abrupt person who’d answered. My stomach did that funny little flip of excitement again.

  “Ireland, is that you?”

  I blinked, attempting to pull myself out of the dazed and confused stupor of hearing him. I cleared my throat, trying to steady myself so I didn’t sound like some love sick puppy. “Hey, Mack, it’s me.”

  “Hey, cupcake,” he cooed, and I had to bite back a moan of pleasure as I shivered in need. I hadn’t realized how much I would enjoy his little pet names until now. Crazy how that worked, particularly because I’d only known him for a few days. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve been checking out the Aston, and I wanted to go over everything with you before I placed the order, and we started the repairs. Is now a good time?”

  “Just start the work,” he said, and I could sense a bit of impatience in his tone. It set my back teeth on edge.

  “You don’t know what I found or how much it’s going to cost.”

  “Listen, cupcake, unless you’re about to tell me it’s going to cost me a hundred grand, not particularly. It needs to be repaired. Gareth recommended you, and I trust you and the garage to do the work correctly.”

  “It’s not a hundred thousand,” I said and gave him the breakdown of the parts and labor before I rushed to get the rest out. “Labor cost might change. You never know with these antiques what’s going to happen.”

  “Yeah, baby, I understand,” he said, and my belly wobbled in excitement from the amusement in his tone. “Go ahead and get it going. I’ll stop by in the next day or two to sign off on any paperwork you have.”

  “Okay,” I responded, somewhat in shock.

  Never in all my years of doing this had a customer not cared about the cost of repair or argued with me about labor costs. Mack was the first.

  “Was the auction house right in their assessment?” he asked, sounding slightly distracted.

  “Well,” I started. This was a slippery slope I’d found myself on. If the auction house was one Mack used often, I didn’t want to throw their people under the bus for one inexperienced assessment. “Honestly, I think the clutch just needs to be adjusted. It feels new.” I tapped my pen up and down on the file. “Now, that being said, I did give myself time to give the tranny a better once over while I’m under it to double-check. Did you get a chance to drive the Aston?”

  “Up onto the hauler was about as far as I got,” he admitted. It was possible, even with that short distance, he could’ve figured out they were wrong. Especially if he was as knowledgeable about cars as I suspected he was.

  “Once we figure out where the parts are coming from and which ones need to be fabricated, I can give a firmer date. I’m hoping we’ll have all of them before the end of the month—if not sooner. Mechanically, it should be done in a week once they arrive. Two weeks tops, since it needs a paint job too. Hunter will order the paint tomorrow, and he’ll start that once I’m done.”

  We were a full-service shop, and Hunter was as much of a genius at painting as he was at fixing. I knew how to paint—we all did. I just didn’t have the patience for the tedious work of prepping the vehicle.

  “Whatever. My buyer is aware it might take some time. Listen, Ireland, I wanted to invite you and your brothers to a birthday party I’m throwing at my house for my not-so-little sister’s birthday.”

  I pulled the handset away from my ear and stared at it. Did he just ask me to meet his family and vice versa? I sat there, unable to form an answer. As much as I didn’t want to give up Mack, I couldn’t say if I was ready to meet his family. Then again, maybe I was the one making too big of a deal over it.

  “Ireland?”

  I quickly brought the receiver back to my ear. “Hmmm. What?”

  “Birthday party,” he said slowly. “My house—”

  “House?” Wait…didn’t he live above Flame?

  “Yeah. House. I have one of those too. The pad above Flame is not my home, per se. It’s a place to change clothes in an emergency or a somewhere to sleep after a late night,” he replied. “You wanna come?”

  Was it bad my thighs clenched and my heart raced while my palms became sweaty? I wanted to scream yes. After a
debate with my internal voice, I decided it was, in fact, bad form to do so. “Ahhh…sure. What time?” I wasn’t digging the fact that I sounded like an idiot during this call.

  “Saturday. Around one o’clock. But if you’d like to come over around noon, I wouldn’t turn you away,” he suggested.

  My heart fluttered. My belly wriggled with nervous butterflies. I wanted to see him again, but I also wanted to play it cool. I couldn’t appear too desperate, after all. “I’ll have to find out from my brothers if they’re interested in coming,” I told him, knowing full well they would be.

  “Do that and get back to me, yeah?”

  “Okay.”

  “Listen, cupcake, I wouldn’t mind spending another couple of hours talking to you, but I was heading into work. How ‘bout you ask your brothers and give me a ring later in the week to let me know their answer?”

  “I can do that.”

  “Alright, then I’ll speak to you soon.”

  “Mack—” I said before he disconnected the call.

  “Yeah?”

  “Anything I can bring?”

  He chuckled. “I own a restaurant, cupcake. Remember? Just bring yourself.”

  Duh, of course he’d have it all taken care of the menu details with his chefs. “I can do that.”

  “Good. Have a good night, cupcake.”

  “You too, Mack. Bye.” Like a teenage girl dealing with her first crush, I waited until he disconnected the call before placing the phone back in its charging cradle.

  “Ugh,” I cried out, laying my head into my hands and wondering why I suddenly acted so stinkin’ stupid with Mack on the phone. “Can I bring anything? What the hell, Ireland?” I continued to grumble at myself as I scrubbed my face.

  “Everything okay?” Landon asked by the door, causing me to jump like I’d gotten caught doing something I shouldn’t have. When I didn’t answer, he assumed something had gone wrong. “It’ll be fine if he wasn’t in agreement with your estimate. I mean it would’ve been nice to get some work like that, but it won’t break us if he goes someplace else.”

  “What?”

  “The Aston. From your reaction, I’m assuming he didn’t like the price you gave him,” Landon clarified.

  I snorted. “Actually, it was the opposite.”

  Landon was just as shocked as I was when I relayed my conversation with Mack. “Jesus,” he whispered.

  “Right?”

  “Good job, Ireland,” he praised me, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him with pride. “Now can we get the hell out of here and go get our grub on? My stomach is about to eat my backbone.”

  I looked around the office. We had a checklist of duties we did every night before we locked the doors. Landon was on my wavelength because he said he’d already taken care of it.

  “You swept up the floors?” I asked, aware of how much he hated that particular job.

  “Yup.” He motioned to the trash cans. “Even dumped the trash and got the old oil ready for the recycling truck.

  “Cool. Then we can go,” I declared, hitting enter for the waiting parts order. I stood then, leaving the Aston’s folder on the desk for Hunter to finish up in the morning. After a quick glance around to be sure I had everything, Landon and I locked the place up then hit the road.

  Chapter Five

  “Remind me again, how you snagged an invite to Mack Redman’s ranch for his little sister’s birthday?” Hunter joined me in our cramped bathroom while I put on my makeup and he shaved some of the grizzle off his face.

  He loved giving me shit. One, because I secretly knew he’d wanted an invite to Mack’s house after the day he showed up to the shop with the Aston, and two, because I didn’t date much. This was officially a second date for me, and I was introducing my ragtag brothers to Mack and his family. I thought when I woke this morning I’d be nervous. Instead, I’d been excited. I couldn’t wait to meet his friends. Sure, everything could fall down around me, but deep down I wasn’t afraid, which was almost more terrifying. Instead of dwelling on the fear, I set to work getting ready.

  I shrugged. “I guess when you don’t hit it and quit it, like you and Landon do, people invite you places.”

  Hunter flipped me off and laughed. “Fuck off, Ireland.”

  “You wanted to know.” I threw all of my makeup back in my bag then stared at my reflection. Even though I didn’t have to, I went thrift shopping after finishing the ‘Cuda. The local thrift store had enough retro clothes to fill my closet for decades to come, and I appreciated their dedication. When I saw the off the shoulder red and white crop top, I knew it had to be mine. I had a pair of pedal pusher jeans to complement it and a set of black heels. I was going to blow Mack’s mind when he saw me. The thought sent a little wiggle of excitement through my stomach. “So, what do you think?”

  All of my tattoos would be on display with the exception of my legs and some on my torso, though a few would play peek-a-boo when I sat down. Instead of straightening my mane of riotous curls, I producted the hell out of them to keep them from being a frizzy mess, because ain’t no one got time for frizz. Then I used one of my red bandanas as a headband. My bangs were formed into a single victory roll and pinned into place. I thought I looked pretty A-OK.

  Hunter cleared the shaving cream from his razor and cut his gaze toward me. “You clean up nice.”

  I deflated a little. “Thanks.”

  “Not like I can call you a hot piece of ass, Ireland,” Hunter teased as he went back to shaving.

  “Would be gross if you did,” I muttered.

  “Who’s got a hot ass?” Landon appeared at the door, towel over his shoulder.

  “No one,” I said, exiting the bathroom. “Hurry up, both of you. We have to leave in an hour.”

  “Who’d have thought she’d be ready to go first?” Landon said, before closing the bathroom door behind him.

  Jackson sat at the kitchen island, reading over some manual he received from Flame. The binder was pretty thick, but with the way he ate up the words on the page, it had to be interesting. Then again, I found the technical manual for a 1970 Ford Maverick fun to read in my spare time, when I had any. “Hey, whatcha doing?”

  Jackson glanced up at me and whistled. “Damn, Ireland, you’re going to knock his socks off.”

  Better compliment than Hunter and Landon. “Thank you.” I did a small turn for him to give him the full effect, then stepped back to the island. “This from Flame?”

  He nodded. “It’s all the dos and don’ts of the kitchen. Plus, there are some other health and safety standards in here. Because of the high volume of food consumed in the restaurant, everything has to meet quality standards. None of the meat can be subpar or the dairy or vegetables. It’s a lot to take in, but I already have the basics under my belt from culinary school.”

  He started working for Mack last weekend, and I’d be lying if I wasn’t a bit jealous of him. Sure, Mack and I talked as much as we could, but it wasn’t the same as seeing one another. I hadn’t realized how desperate I’d been to be in his arms again until this morning as well. The thought of his lips pressed to mine caused my toes to curl and my breath to hitch. I needed a Mack fix, stat.

  Because I’d been determined to finish all of the other work in the shop so I could concentrate on the Aston when the parts came in, I hadn’t had a chance to ask him how it was going. “Do you like being there?”

  Jackson folded his hands on the notebook. “Get it all out of your system.”

  I stared at him for a second, confused by his statement. “What?”

  “You’re looking for an in with Mack, aren’t you?” Jackson was a little different than us. He was more private. Strait-laced. The only tattoo he had was a kiss from our mom and her date of death. He’d always been happier away from the noise Hunter, Landon, and I could create, and we could get loud. So, breaking through those walls were tough sometimes.

  “No, not at all,” I said. I didn’t need an angle with Mack. “Can I not
ask my baby brother if he’s enjoying his new job?”

  He blew out a breath, and his shoulders sagged. “Guess I’m a little antsy. Sorry.”

  I waved him off. He was also the epitome of a redhead. Quick to temper and even faster to burn out. “If the stress is too much, concentrate on school and Flame. I’ve been bugging the hell out of Hunter to hire a kid to clean up for us after school and be a parts runner.”

  “It’s not that,” Jackson said. “I don’t want to let you or Mack down. This job has the potential to change my life.”

  Pretty profound for a nineteen year old. “Well, if you keep stressing yourself out, you won’t be able to live long enough to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

  Jackson chuckled. “True. You’re right, Chef Matthieu said the same after last night. I feel like if I don’t impress them, then they won’t think I’m hungry enough for the job. If I work too hard, well... You know.”

  “How about you concentrate on having fun today with us. Tomorrow you can worry about the work.”

  Jackson snapped his fingers. “I forgot.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Your risotto recipe.”

  I grinned. “So, you made it, huh?”

  “Yep. Better than Chef Matthieu.” My brother had a knack for food in the same way Hunter, Landon, and I had one for cars. “Guess I impressed both of them on the first day.”

  “Good.” I folded his notebook closed. “Relax, then. We’re going to be leaving soon. Today is all about forgetting about your worries.”

  “Sure enough,” Jackson said. “I think I’m going to ride with Landon. Don’t want to be too pretentious driving the Comet to Mack’s house.”

  “I’m taking the Custom, and Hunter’s taking his Harley. Man doesn’t like being confined.” I shrugged.

  He laughed. “Yeah, he’s always been a little off in the head. Maybe Mom dropped him on it when he was a baby.”

 

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