Page 118 of Messing With My Brother's Best Friends

“You got off your arse and proposed?” Van said, reaching across the dining table to fist bump Gage. “Fuck yeah.”

“Excuse me if I wanted something a little more meaningful than just blurting a proposal out accidentally,” Gage said, his arms tightening around Kendall’s shoulder. “Our girl deserves that.”

“Ohh, so it’s like that, is it?” Van poked his spaghetti with his fork. “Then I want a do-over.”

“You can’t have a do-over proposal,” Gage said. “It’s not a game of handball. You fucked up, did yours hastily, and you have to live with that.”

I hated Gage’s smug smile, even Van’s much goofier one. I hated everything about this, because sure enough, everyone turned to face me.

“So what do you have planned?” Van asked. “Gonna try and top Gage’s grand gesture?”

My mind had already jumped to the same place, even though I wasn’t ready. I’d been talking to lawyers since I realised this was an option, exploring what legal protections we could provide for Kendall. Finn relinquishing his share of the business was pretty helpful. It made her a quarter shareholder in any and all profits the business made, but… I wanted more than that. I needed an airtight means to protect Kendall, to make sure that if anything happened to us or she decided to walk away that she’d do so much better than she when walked in through the front door the first time. I was already looking at adding her to the deed of our property, but…

Beyond the need to petition politicians to change laws to suit our personal situation, was this.

I’d never really been all that interested in the idea of weddings until I started seeing Kendall walking down the aisle in my mind, but what was a heavenly picture quickly soured. Who would she marry? Whose ring would she slide on her finger?

“I’m in the midst of talking to lawyers—” I started to say.

“Pfft…” Van shook his head. “Yup, I topped that already.” He made his hands all stiff, like a primitive robot, then imitated their speech patterns as he continued. “Dear Kendall, will you enter into a legally binding agreement with me?”

“Stop it, Van,” Kendall said with a shake of her head but that didn’t stop me pushing my pasta aside. “Hey, Connor—”

“I’m not super hungry tonight.” I forced myself to smile. “I had drinks with an agent today and had to eat something or I’d be forced to get one of you to pick me up.” I hefted my bowl. “I’ll put it in the fridge and reheat it later.”

No, I wouldn’t. Kendall had made an amazing Bolognese sauce, but it was like sawdust in my mouth, so I covered the bowl in cling wrap and then went out the backdoor to the garden, where it felt like I could finally take a full breath. The stars twinkled silently over my head. I tried to count every one, just like I had when I was a kid, before I caught sight of the shed.

Work on ‘Daisy’ had come to a halt. I’d offered to get Kendall another car, but she kept brushing me off. As I stepped closer, the automatic light flicked on, revealing the old car in all its ageing glory. Kendall seemed curiously attached to the bloody thing. When I said a scrap yard had made an offer for the car, she was horrified I’d even suggest it, though everyone I spoke to said it was the only fitting end for the thing. The car was hopeless and maybe that’s what drew me closer.

It was completely and utterly Kendall’s car. I peered through the windows then opened the driver’s seat door, sitting down behind the wheel. My knees were touching the wheel so I reached down and pushed the lever to force the seat back, only to be greeted by a loud screech.

“Daisy doesn’t do seat adjustments.” When I glanced through the windscreen, Kendall appeared, strolling closer with a small smile on her face. “She doesn’t allow her seats to be angled back or forward, only starts half the time, and has this weird ticking sound, which I really hope isn’t a bomb timer or something.”

“So why don’t you allow me to buy you something new?” I asked. “Something safe and reliable. A car that isn’t the result of a million other people’s neglect.”

“A clean slate, huh?” She leaned against the roof of the car, looking down at me. “I can see the appeal of something brand new. Unmarked, undamaged-it’s all potential, isn’t it? Much easier to start afresh than deal with the shit of the past.”

My lips thinned, ready to make clear how different cars and people were. We weren’t going to fall apart on her on her way to work, or worse, cause a car accident.

“I just need you to be safe, Kendall.”

“And I like looking after my things.” Her gaze was soft, but she didn’t look away for a second. “Caring for them. Keeping them ticking along. Sometimes it’s just with a hope and a prayer, but still… I’ve never been good about just walking away from things and forgetting about them. I tried really, really hard, y’know?”

I knew that all too well.

“But once something’s got its hooks in me, I can’t seem to bring myself to let it go.” She smoothed a hand over the car’s roof. “I will with Daisy at some point, if you’re concerned about me taking up space in your shed.”

“Your shed.” I was up and out of the car and leaning into her space before my hand went to her waist. “Your car, your shed, your home, Kendall. I might suggest it needs to go to the great scrap yard in the sky, but it’s not going anywhere…”

I had a whole speech planned, but just then, inspiration struck. Kendall had made an obvious connection between the car and her relationship with us, so maybe…

The next day I snuck away from work early and met the tow truck I’d booked around the back of the house.

“Straight to the scrap yard, mate?” the driver asked, scratching his head as he looked at Daisy.

“Unfortunately, no. My girlfriend” —I smiled— “fiancée loves the bloody thing, so I need to get it fixed. Know anyone who’d be willing to take this job on?”

“Cost you a lot of bloody money,” the driver said with a shake of his head. “But yeah, I know someone. Old fella who loves doing up ancient bombs like this. I’ll give him a call and see if he can fit you in.”

---