Page 37 of Win Some Love Some
Which translated toDidn’t want to get to, because billing sucked and I hated it.
“A little behind? Dude, that looks like an entire season behind. How do you make any money if none of the bills go out?”
“I’m not a stud hockey player, but I do okay.”
The truth was, I raked in money. Being the only competent mechanic for a large population that liked their old trucks and new EVs, I had more business then I could handle and more money than I knew what to do with. It was something I planned to talk to Antony about when he and Birdie got back from the west coast. They were overseeing the restaurant this fall but would be home for the holidays.
Maybe it was time to start thinking about buying a house, investing in the stock market, shit like that.
Wyatt grunted. “I’m not a stud hockey player anymore either. That’s my brother. But I know a mess when I see one. You need help.”
Wyatt reached to push a file folder that had slipped into the old office chair back onto the stack on the desk.
“Don’t,” I cried, but it was too late. The entire pile of bills and invoices and accounting bullshit started sliding to the floor.
“Jesus,” he said, and with the reflexes and giant wingspan of a professional athlete, he grabbed the whole mountain slide and stopped it from landing on the floor. “Nick,” he said and I thought about turning off the light and leaving him in the office.
It would be funny.
It would be the kind of thing Liam would do to him.
The kind of shit brothers pulled on each other.
Yeah, as soon as the thought entered my head I got rid of it and pulled some of the files out of his arms and stacked themback on the desk. He took what was left and stacked them on the floor.
“Honestly, Nick. You need help in here.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I opened the second drawer from the bottom, and pulled out a set of keys. I tossed the set to him and wasn’t surprised that he picked the key chain out of the air. “It’s a 97 Chevy truck with a ton of miles, but she runs just fine.”
“She?”
“All my cars are women. That one is Betty.”
Wyatt smirked.
“Which one is named after the girl, sorry, the woman, you couldn’t take your eyes off earlier?”
See, this. This was why I did not want brothers in my life.
I gave him my best scowl, but Wyatt only tilted his bearded face back and laughed.
“Brother, you can’t out glare me. I am the king of glares. I was just asking a question based on an observation.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Nora is the daughter of the foster family who originally took me in when I showed up in Calico Cove.”
“I thought the Renards took you in,” Wyatt said with a frown.
“They adopted me, but when I first showed up I needed to stay with a family that was already certified to foster. That was the Barnes. Nora isn’t…” I wasn’t sure why I hesitated. Nora’s lineage was no secret. It just felt like I was sharing something with him. Something personal. Something that mattered. And everything about Nora mattered to me. “Nora isn’t Roy and Vanessa’s biological child. Roy had a cousin who overdosed and he was her closest relative, so he took Nora in.”
“Oh, man. Sorry to hear that. That’s a tough break.” Something in Wyatt’s voice, the sincere sympathy, or empathy, I didn’t know, but it put a crack in me.
“Nora was just a baby,” I continued, when I hadn’t meant to. “She doesn’t remember her mother at all. Roy and Vanessa are the only parents she’s ever known. And they’re good people.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Remember Mom. At all.”
