Tex (Hell's Ankhor #5) - Aiden Bates Page 0,23

quick beer in the kitchen—just discussing the basics of the enforcement role, with Jazz listening enraptured even though I was fairly sure he already knew most of what we said.

As I finished the dregs of my drink, I glanced at Jazz. He nodded, indicating he was done as well. Something in my gut jumped happily at the unspoken conversation; I was happy to see we could still communicate without words.

“I’ll go over everything,” I assured Gunnar, and then stood up. “Come on, Jazz, I’ll talk you through it at the shop.”

Ankhor Works was bustling with activity when we arrived. It was mid-afternoon, and there were a handful of customers lingering in the waiting area as Maverick went from customer to office to car to customer to office and back. Business had picked up, especially since Jonah came onboard, and I knew Maverick needed a hand on some of the more routine jobs.

“Hey, guys.” Maverick swiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, but it left a dark streak of grease anyway. “Good to see you, Jasper. Sorry, I don’t have a lot of time—what’s up?”

“Just came to help out,” I said. “You’ve got a few oil changes lined up, right?”

Maverick’s shoulders slumped. “Thank God. Yeah, the gray sedan and the red SUV. I owe you.”

A customer caught Maverick’s eye and he hurried over. Jonah walked out from the office, looking substantially less harried than Maverick, and he smiled easily at us with Grace balanced on his hip. She was getting bigger every day, and talkative, her dark hair growing out into unruly, loose curls.

“Tex, Jasper,” Jonah said warmly. “Everything going all right? You settling back in, Jasper?”

“Can’t complain.” Jasper peered at Grace. “Hey, Gracie.”

She stared right back, her big blue eyes blinking up at him. Grace wasn’t fazed by much, being around the noisy, rambunctious club as much as she was, but she was in a phase where she was a little shy around new people. Jasper was the same way.

Jonah grinned at Jasper and bounced Grace on his hip. “You wanna hold her?”

Jasper backed up and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Gimme a few days to get adjusted to everything else I’ve missed. I’ll get there.”

“I understand,” Jonah said through a laugh. “She can be scary.” Grace babbled agreeably and reached for me, her blue eyes fixed on my beard like a cat watching a bird.

Jonah raised his eyebrows at me and I nodded. He handed Grace over and she giggled happily, her hands immediately going to the plait of my beard and tugging.

Jazz barked a sharp, surprised laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day,” he said in disbelief.

“Grace has that effect on people,” Jonah said fondly. “So what’s going on?”

“Just here to help,” I said. “Knock out some of the routine maintenance things so Mav can work on the harder repairs.”

“Oh, thanks. He needs the help. We’re getting swamped these days.”

“At Custom, too?” I asked. Grace tried to pull my beard into her mouth, and I gracefully ensured that didn’t happen.

Jonah nodded. “Yeah. Lots of new orders. Heath’s been picking up extra shifts to cover the front so I have more time to work on designs.”

“Things have really picked up since I’ve been gone, huh?” Jazz asked. He squeezed Grace’s socked foot, and she kicked happily in response, but her attention was still focused on my beard.

“Didn’t feel like it,” I said. It’d happened slowly, sure, and I’d worked at the shop for a lot of it, but my years without Jazz felt like they’d happened in a fog, or a bad dream. “But I guess so.” He handed Grace back to Jonah. “All right, let’s see if you still remember how to do an oil change.”

Jazz swatted at my shoulder. “I could do that with my eyes closed.”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

We waved our goodbyes to Grace and Jonah and moved into the back of the shop where the cars were waiting for their oil changes. I popped the hood on the gray sedan and poked around the engine, just ensuring that everything looked to be in good shape.

“Might wanna set the hat aside before you get too deep in there,” Jazz said.

“Oh,” I said, and grabbed my Stetson by the brim. “Aw, fuck.” There’d been a bit of grease on my thumb, and it left a dark streak on the edge.

“Hand it over,” Jazz said. “It’ll come out.”

I took off the Stetson and tossed it to Jazz. He caught it easily and peered at the