Page 24 of Falling for the Mechanic
The summer sun is warm through the open bay door of Steel Haven Auto, carrying the scent of cut grass and motor oil. My favorite combination.
I tap the final number into the spreadsheet and hit the save icon with a satisfied sigh. From the other side of the garage, I can hear the familiar, comforting sounds of the shop—the whir of an impact wrench, the low hum of the radio, the deep, gravellytone of my husband’s voice instructing his second new hire this season.
My husband. A year later, and the thought still sends a little thrill through me.
Like he can feel my eyes, his gaze immediately finds me behind the computer, and a mock scowl darkens his features, though the warmth in his eyes gives him away. He lasts all of three seconds before a smile takes over his face.
“You look entirely too happy staring at those numbers.” Coming around the desk to drop a kiss on the top of my head, I swear he sniffs my hair. Says I’m the best-smelling thing in here, so he’s just taking advantage. His hand rests on my shoulder, his thumb absently stroking my neck.
“Someone has to enjoy it,” I tease, leaning back into his touch. “Or all this profit might just disappear into the ‘miscellaneous’ column.”
He groans, his forehead falling against my temple. “Office work is going to be the death of me. I’d rather wrestle ten rusty mufflers than look at another invoice.”
Crazy to think how good business is going. Now that Cameron knows he has the power to be quite charming when he wants something to go his way, he’s been working on his people skills.
Nash had held to his word, signing the garage over to Cameron the day after he’d officially asked me to stay. For good.
The rumble of motorcycles cuts through the afternoon quiet, growing steadily louder. It’s a sound I’ve grown to love. Cameron straightens up, his smile faltering on his face as we both look toward the open door.
I think he still gets nervous by the presence of my brother. Took one comment of offering his home if I ever change my mind at my freaking wedding for him to be careful.
A moment later, three bikes roll into the lot, coming to a stop in a perfectly synchronized line. In the lead is my brother, Finn, looking every bit the part of a biker with his cut-off vest and worn-in boots. He kills the engine, and a wide grin forms on his face when he spots me.
“Chelsea,” he calls out, striding into the garage like he owns the place. The two other guys from his club follow, nodding respectfully at Cameron. “Brought you some more business. Mike’s got a clutch that’s slipping worse by the day.”
“Perfect timing.” Cameron clears his throat and jerks his chin toward his new hire. “Dale here says he knows a bike like the back of his hand. Now you can test him for me.”
The men behind my brother grin at the mention of fresh meat.
I can’t help but chuckle at their behavior. While I still don’t understand this whole motorcycle club thing he’s involved with, I’m glad to see my brother is no longer staying secluded in his parlor.
As the guys head toward the new mechanic Cameron hired specifically for bike work, Finn lingers. He looks around the bustling shop, at the two extra bays that are now constantly full, at the ‘Steel Haven Auto’ logo I had commissioned freshly painted on the wall.
“The place looks better each time I stop by,” he says, and I hear the genuine pride in his voice. “A real local hotspot.”
“Thanks to you,” I say, meaning it. Ever since Finn made it his mission to send every member with a mechanical issue our way, our bills are paid. His club isn’t just customers; they’re a built-in family who’ve adopted the shop as their own.
Finn shrugs, but he looks pleased. “Gotta look out for my little sister and her grumpy mechanic.”
Laughing at his tease, I pause when I notice a bandage on his arm. Immediately, my worries come in a wave as I try to get acloser look. Of course, he doesn’t let me. He never does. There’s no denying the bruising beneath.
“Don’t tell me you got hurt again.” I scold him with a huff. “What was it this time?”
Finn smiles like it’s nothing. “Just a small scrape. Don’t worry about it. Now, let me meet this fellow to make sure he’s trustworthy.”
He nods at Cameron before heading off to join his friends.
Cameron’s arm slides around my waist, pulling me close, and he reassures me that my brother is fine.. He smells like sunshine and hard work, and he’s easily pulled my attention right back to him.
He looks out at the lot, at the bikes and the cars waiting for service, at the business he built with his own two hands and now owns in full.
I lean into him, watching my brother laugh with his friends in the garage that became my home, held by the man who became my whole world. The spreadsheets can wait.
Right now, all I want to enjoy is the fact that we made it.
