Page 228 of Beyond the Temptation: Vol 2

I smile. “No idea, Hen. No idea at all.” I stand. “I better get going. Oliver should be on his way home soon, and we have some last-minute details to straighten out before the wedding. Thanks for letting me sleep on your couch for a few.”

I pull Henley in for a hug, then leave. I hope one day he realizes what is between him and Davis. Or maybe he already has and is too scared to admit it.

CHAPTER FIVE

DAVIS

The music filtering through the bluetooth speakers attached to my ears touches on every nerve in my body. If I wasn’t elbows deep beneath the hood of this Mustang trying to get the engine to turn over, I’d probably be in one of the empty bays playing some air guitar and belting out a song I have no business singing.

After hours is the best time at the shop. It’s just me, the smell of grease and some peace and quiet. Something this car must enjoy too, given I haven’t heard a peep out of her since the owner had it towed here.

He’s hoping for a miracle. This little bitch has a mind of her own and she’s not going to start until she’s good and ready.

Bending over, I grasp onto one of the hoses and try to wiggle it. Not even the slightest movement. With my elbows on top of the front fender, I stare at the hunk of metal, hoping that by some small chance I have overlooked something.

Lost in thought, the music takes over and I begin singing along.

“Galileo, Galileo, Galileo Figuro, magnifco. Oh… oh… oh.”

Something slaps me on the back.

I jump, hitting my head on the hood before grabbing the wrench off the top of the air filter and swinging around, ready to fight.

My soon-to-be brother-in-law takes a step back, raising his hands. His mouth is moving, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. He taps his ear, reminding me there’s AirPods still stuck in mine.

Tucking them in my pocket, I lean against the car, willing my racing heart to slow while rubbing the bump rising on the back of my head. “You’re lucky I didn’t knock you on your ass.”

He chuckles as if my threat doesn’t phase him. “And you’re lucky you didn’t just crack every windshield in this garage with that singing.”

“I may not have the voice of Freddy, but that's not gonna stop me from singing along to the best song ever written. What are you doing here, Oliver?”

The humor falls from his face as if he’s just now remembering. Shifting on his feet, he looks everywhere but at me. “I, well… Trenton and I…” He blows out a breath and nods toward some worn stools near the diagnostics computer. “Can we sit?”

This is a side of my brother’s fiancé I haven’t seen before. The normally outgoing and sometimes funny Oliver is at a loss for words, and seeing him like this has my mind shifting into high gear. What could he possibly have to say that has him so anxious? Surely, they’re not calling off the wedding?

Nah, if that were the case, Trenton would be the one telling me. Unless… he’s too upset to.

Fuck!

I guess there’s only one way to find out. Glancing at the stools and then back at Oliver, I cross my arms over my chest. I’ll take this news standing. “I don’t have all day. Just spit it out.”

He mutters something about strangling Trenton before lifting his eyes to mine. “We’d like to borrow Scarlet for a few days.”

“Pardon?” It’s not what I’d expected to hear, but still not good, just the same.

“It would just be from the church to our hotel and maybe a couple of trips into town.”

Reactively, I shake my head.

“I promise we’ll take excellent care of her.” He rushes out the rest of the words, not giving me a chance to respond. “If not for me, do it for Trenton. He won’t admit it, but we both know he has an admiration for nice cars, just the same as you.”

Damn, he’s good. Running a hand through my hair, I step over to the Mustang and stare at the engine once again. “Let me get this straight. You’re asking to borrow my classic 1967 Corvette Stingray–in mint condition–I might add, to drive from the church to downtown Wilmington and let it sit in a hotel parking lot for a few days?”

“Yes,” he says meekly from behind me.

Turning around, I lean against the fender, fully prepared to tell him no fucking way, but when I meet his pleading stare, all I can picture is how happy it would make my brother and I can’t bring myself to do it. Fuck Oliver and his puppy dog eyes. It’s obvious why Trenton sent him and didn’t come here himself. “Fine.”

His smile nearly splits his face in two as he rushes over to me before throwing his arms around my neck and squeezing. “Thank you, Davis. You have no idea how happy this will make your brother.”

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