Undeniably His

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Undeniably His Page 3

by Emery Jacobs


  Miles is Ava’s live-in boyfriend of less than a year. He’s also my brother and the main reason I don’t tell Ava a lot about my life or my life plans. Miles is entirely too overprotective when it comes to me, so the less he knows, the better off I am.

  “No worries. You’re my best friend first, and I wouldn’t dream of getting him started. He would drive us both crazy if he found out you were planning on selling your house and vehicles without his help,” Ava reassures me. I look over my shoulder at her and smile before closing the door and heading toward Leo.

  “The lobby entrance is around the corner. Just follow the walkway.” Leo motions toward the sidewalk. “If you’ll wait inside, I’ll let my brother know you’re here.” He gives me a tight smile and heads toward the open bay directly in front of me.

  I draw in a deep breath and ground myself. I’m in such unfamiliar territory. There’s so much going on in such a small space that it’s causing stimulation overload. The assortment of what I assume to be broken or damaged cars lining the lot ranges from a red Mercedes to a green Prius. The deafening sounds of drills and hydraulics nearly drown out the country music coming from inside the shop. I shake my head a couple times before heading down the sidewalk.

  I push open the door to the lobby and am greeted with the smell of motor oil, grease, and what I assume is gasoline. As I slowly walk in, I take in my surroundings: two cracked plastic chairs, a television the size of a small toaster, and a coffee machine. Who would drink coffee from that? This place is a dump, but they must do good work, because my dad would never trust just anybody with his vehicles.

  I make my way to the counter, carefully avoiding touching anything so I don’t end up covered in grease. A large glass window sits behind the counter, giving me a somewhat clear view of the entire shop. I catch a glimpse of Leo talking to a brown-haired guy standing next to an old Camaro on a lift. Leo attempts to give the guy the clipboard with my information on it, but the man shakes his head and moves underneath the Camaro with some sort of tool in his hand. Hmm… I wonder if that’s Leo’s brother. If he is, why isn’t he on his way in here to handle the business side of things like Leo mentioned earlier?

  So I don’t get caught staring, I turn away from the window and scan the small space again. Do people actually sit in this lobby and wait for their vehicles to be repaired? I would hope not.

  The creak of an opening door pulls me away from my evaluation of this disaster I’m standing in.

  “Ms. Carmichael.” I immediately recognize the voice—it’s Leo.

  “Yes.” I turn to face him. His head is lowered and he’s staring intently at the clipboard in his left hand. He moves quickly toward the checkout counter located in the center of the room. He places the clipboard down on the countertop and runs a hand through his thick dark hair before his gaze meets mine.

  “We should know what’s going on with your Jeep sometime this afternoon. Somebody will call you before the end of the day. Do you want us to call your cell or office number?” he asks.

  “Either is fine. Do I need to pay you anything now?” I nervously shift my weight from my right leg to my left.

  Leo chuckles. “No, ma’am, you don’t pay anything up front. Once I know what’s wrong, someone will call you and let you know the cost.”

  “Oh, okay. Sounds good.” I turn slightly toward the exit and my eyes shift from Leo toward the window that gives me a clear view into the shop. I’m immediately drawn to the guy Leo was talking to before. He’s standing with his arms lifted above his head working on the same older model Camaro. His blue shirt fits snug across his back, and his oil-stained jeans hug his ass perfectly. I would’ve never imagined a pair of dirty jeans could look so good.

  Leo clears his throat, and it redirects my attention back to him. A sudden warmth wraps around me, leaving me feeling flushed. I try to play off the embarrassment of getting caught checking out the mechanic by shifting my gaze back to Leo. “Is that your brother out there?”

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s Beau,” he mumbles before walking toward the exit door.

  “Oh, I was just wondering, because I thought you mentioned that he handled the business stuff, and, well….” I completely forget where I’m going with this. I think I’m still reeling from the embarrassment of Leo catching me checking out his brother’s ass, and truthfully, it doesn’t matter who handles the paperwork and collects the money. The only thing I’m concerned about is my Jeep being repaired, so I don’t have to depend on my friends to haul me around. I think I’m just a little disappointed, because I wanted to meet the brother—Beau—so I could see the face that goes with that broad back and perfect ass.

  I follow Leo toward the door. Once I step outside, I look over my shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Matson. I’ll be waiting for your call.” Then I head down the sidewalk toward Ava’s SUV.

  3

  Beau

  Emmie Carmichael—what the hell is she doing here, in the lobby of my shop? Of all the automotive repair places in town, she picks mine—mine. I squeeze my eyes shut for a couple seconds and try to relax, but I can’t. There’s no way. It’s not happening, at least not today—not with her white Jeep sitting in my lot. I open my eyes and follow her movements through the window between the shop and lobby. Her long blonde hair is tied up on top of her head, and the white blouse she’s wearing is so damn transparent that even from this distance I can see the outline of the dark bra she’s wearing. I shake my head and avert my eyes from the woman who has pulled me into her world without even knowing it. Just a few more months and it’ll be over.

  Once she’s safely out the door, I make my way into the lobby, where Leo is leaning against the counter flipping through what I assume to be her paperwork.

  “I still don’t understand why you couldn’t walk away from that car long enough to take care of a customer. You never let me handle the business side of things—that’s why I felt like a blubbering idiot out here with that lady.” Leo tosses the clipboard across the counter toward me.

  I don’t flinch at his movement and I don’t pick up her paperwork. I know who she is without reading the first word.

  “Maybe it’s time you learn to deal with the customers and not just hang out in the back.”

  “Whatever you say, big brother, whatever you say, but we both know I’m clueless about how the business stuff works. I only know about cars—towing them, figuring out what’s wrong with them, and fixing them. You know, the manual labor part of this place.” Leo turns to walk back into the shop, but my question stops him at the door.

  “Have any idea what’s wrong with hers?” I need to know how long it’s gonna take to get it running and out of my sight.

  “I assume you mean Ms. Carmichael’s Jeep?”

  I nod. “Yeah, the white Jeep you just brought in.”

  Leo chuckles before looking over his shoulder in my direction. “It’s the battery.”

  I see red. “The battery?” I shout.

  Leo nods and then a cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk crosses his face.

  “You towed her into the shop for a fucking battery?” I clench my fists and look away from my brother. I want to ask him why he didn’t use the jumper cables to start her car, bill her for a service call, and send her on her way to Walmart for a battery. But I don’t ask any of those questions because then I would have to explain my reasoning for sending potential business somewhere else.

  “I don’t know why you’re so pissed. We need the money, and trust me when I tell you the Carmichael lady has money. She lives in a fucking huge house over on Lover’s Lane, she was dressed head-to-toe in what looked like designer clothes, and she has a seventy thousand dollar Lexus parked in her garage. So, I can assure you she can afford the tow and whatever else we charge her,” he rants.

  I should probably confess everything to Leo, tell him I know where she lives and I’ve seen the fucking Lexus in her garage more times than I want to admit. If I could spill my guts to him, I think I may feel somewhat better about w
hat I’m doing, but I can’t. He can never know I’ve sold my soul to save this place. No one can—not ever.

  Leo straightens his stance and walks over quickly. Once he’s within inches of me, he continues, “All you do is bitch and gripe about how the business is sinking and if we don’t do something quick, we’ll all be without a job and Dad’s legacy will be lost. I’m just doing my part, so why don’t you show a little appreciation instead of being such a dick?”

  “Dammit, Leo, I do appreciate you and the work you do, but you know fucking someone over is not the way to earn a customer’s trust,” I tell him. “Dad built this business on hard work and honesty.”

  “Yeah, and you see where that got him—or should I say, where it got us. He died drunk, depressed, and broke.” Leo’s voice is heavy and laced with anger. He looks away for a couple seconds then stares back in my direction. “And what makes you think I fucked this Carmichael lady over anyway? She needed help and I helped her. I didn’t screw her over.”

  My grandfather was the original Jim Matson, and he started this business after he retired from teaching. He was a mechanic by trade, and that’s what he taught at the technical college. I think his intentions were not to have a second career, but to give my dad something to do other than hang out with his friends and drink all day. It worked, because my dad became devoted to this shop, especially once he married my mother. After I was born, he worked harder for his family, and by the time my younger sister, Hannah, came along, business was great. A few years later, Leo was born, and it was obvious that my dad’s drive was dwindling. He was working less and drinking more, but somehow was able to keep this place with a positive cash flow. Then after Grandpa died, Dad just stopped caring. He kept working, but I think it was mostly for my mom, because everything he did in life was for her. It was just that his weakness for whiskey controlled him. When he finally gave in to the drinking, alcohol took over and eventually killed him, leaving me with an outdated, failing automotive shop.

  But, this shop is the only life I know, so I have to do whatever I can to make it work. I’ve been working on cars since I was sixteen and taking care of the books since I was twenty. Jim Matson’s Automotive can’t fail, because if it does, my entire family loses.

  “I’m not arguing with you anymore. I’ve got too much work to do.” I shake my head then turn away from my brother, making my way toward the door that leads into the shop.

  “Hey!” Leo hollers.

  I stop and spin around to face him. As soon as my eyes meet his, he tosses me a set of keys. I reach out and grab them a second before they hit the floor.

  “You can take care of Ms. Carmichael’s battery, because I’m done for the day,” he says, and then walks out the front entrance, letting the heavy door slam behind him.

  I lower my gaze to the keys in my hand. Great. Just fucking great. I open the door and head back into the shop.

  4

  Emmie

  In the office later, I feel like the crappiest friend on earth for not noticing Ava’s newest acquisition. “Holy shit! Were you wearing it this morning?” I stare at the huge diamond gracing her left ring finger. “It’s so big! It has to be at least three carats!” I take one last look before releasing her hand from mine. She then moves around the small table in our conference room and sits down directly across from me. “I’m so excited for you and Miles! Details, please. I need to know everything.”

  Ava cuts her eyes at me from across the table. “I know what you’re thinking, Emmie.” She smirks.

  “What? What exactly am I thinking?” I raise my eyebrows, doing my best not to smile, because she’s right. Ava knows me too well, and right now, she’s spot on with the thoughts racing through my mind. Ava, Jane, and I have this saying about engagement rings: the bigger the diamond, the smaller the penis. We’ve seen hundreds of rings throughout the years and have determined that a huge diamond is a means of overcompensation.

  “I’m not going to entertain those thoughts, but I will say that in Miles’s case, it couldn’t be further from the truth,” she tells me with a wink.

  “Okay, okay. You win. Just please spare me the details about my brother’s—you know. Shit, I can’t even say it.”

  “What? You don’t want to know the size of your brother’s penis?” Ava throws her head back and laughs.

  “Ugh—please stop.” I put my hands over my ears, shake my head, and giggle softly. “Please don’t forget the promise you made me when the two of you started dating: no discussing your sex life with me. I love that you’re with Miles, and I’m even more excited that you’re going to be my sister, but the rule still stands. Absolutely no discussion of your sex life or the size of his… you know—ever.”

  “No details about his penis, I promise. Believe it or not, discussing our sex life with you is not something I’d be comfortable with either. And yes, I was wearing my ring this morning. You were just too distraught over your car to notice anything else.”

  “Yeah, I guess I was a little upset. It’s really no excuse, but you know how I get when something important to me isn’t working—like my Jeep, my dishwasher, my hot water heater, my washing machine. It pisses me off just thinking about it.” Every single one of those appliances and now my Jeep has had to be replaced or repaired over the last year. I hold up my hand before continuing. “Now, before you say anything else about me or my car or my house or just anything pertaining to my life in general, I want to hear about you and Miles. I don’t even want to discuss the McWhorton-Lewis wedding. Right now, I only want to hear about your plans. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.” I close the client file, slide it away from me, and tap my fingers impatiently against the dark wood of the table for a couple of seconds before saying, “Now tell me about his proposal.”

  Ava inhales deeply before moving her hands to her lap. “You know your brother and how impulsive he can be, right?” I nod. “Well, he was planning to do a big surprise proposal for our one-year anniversary, but once he bought the ring, he couldn’t wait.”

  “Typical Miles,” I add.

  “He bought the ring on Saturday afternoon and proposed before midnight.” She beams.

  “So how did he do it? Did he get down on one knee or take you to dinner? I know he’s not the most romantic guy, but I’d like to think my dad rubbed off on him a little.”

  My parents have been married for thirty-five years, and they are as much in love now as they were in high school. My dad is always doing super romantic stuff for Mom. He plans surprise trips, brings her coffee in bed every morning, sends flowers for no reason other than that he loves her, and when she cooks, he always does the dishes. My brother and I grew up in a house with so much love that it was almost suffocating, so hopefully my brother has a tiny bit of romance in his genes.

  I put my elbows on the table and lean in closer.

  “It really wasn’t very romantic,” Ava mumbles.

  “You don’t want to tell me, do you?” My eyes flick to hers; she shakes her head and pushes away from the table. “Wait, did he ask you during sex?”

  Ava nods and a full smile spreads across her face.

  My hands slap the table with subtle force. “Dammit, Miles. He ruins everything. Doesn’t he realize people are going to ask you two how he proposed for years? Even your kids will want to know. What the hell are y’all going to say?”

  Ava laughs as she tucks a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear.

  “I’m going to let him come up with that lie. Right now, the only people who know we’re engaged are our immediate family, and luckily nobody has asked that question—except, of course, you.”

  I swat my hand in her direction. “You know it really doesn’t matter how he proposed. I’m just happy he did and that you said yes. I know my parents are beside themselves, because they absolutely adore you.”

  The sound of the chime above the front door alerts us that someone has walked into the building, and knowing someone is out front completely pulls me away from our
conversation. Of course, it doesn’t faze Ava in the least, but I’m nosey. It’s just who I am. When someone walks in the front door, I must know who it is, which is the main reason my office sits in the front part of the building, behind the reception area. Right now, it’s a little trickier since we’re in the conference room, but it’s only a couple of doors down, so I can still hear everything going on out front.

  I do my best to direct my attention back to my friend.

  “Yeah, Miles told them this morning—against my wishes, but you know your brother. I really wanted the two of us to go over to their place together to tell them,” she explains.

  “What about your parents? Have you told them yet?” I ask as I try to keep my focus here and not on the muffled voices coming from reception.

  “No, not yet. I think we’re going by there tonight. My dad knows, because your brother did the gentlemanly thing by asking if he could marry me over the phone Saturday on his way home from the jewelry store.” Ava laughs and shakes her head.

  “Hold on a sec.” I push my chair away from the table and stand before inching toward the door separating me from the lobby.

  “I’m sure she’ll see you. She’s been waiting on your call all day,” Jackie, our receptionist, tells someone.

  The door to the conference room is cracked slightly, so I move closer, hoping I’ll be able to hear the second voice.

  “What’s going on?” Ava’s now right beside me.

  I stop moving and pivot slightly. “Shhh!” I bring my finger in front of my lips. “This may be important and if you’re talking into my ear, I won’t be able to hear.”

  She yanks open the door with me standing here staring at Jackie’s smiling face. “Jesus, Emmie, just open the door and walk out—and ta-da, you can not only hear what’s going on but see who Jackie’s talking to.”

  I glance toward the front door that leads to the outside and… nothing. No one is there. “Who were you talking to?” I ask.

 

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