two of you play this love-hate thing. But if you want Blake Brother Auto Repair to stay in business—and fund your hiking obsession—then you’re going to set that aside, march back into Fireside, and take Haley up on her offer.”
“Hard no.”
“Gray …”
Exasperation punctuates every syllable he speaks and every breath he takes.
He’s irritated with me. I get it.
Too fucking bad.
“I’m not striking up some deal with a woman who’s barely old enough to serve drinks,” I tell him.
“She’s twenty-one—old enough to serve drinks, buy tobacco, and engage in any adult activity she chooses.”
I ignore the smirk.
“And I’m thirty-one,” I fire back.
“So?”
He quirks a brow and, suddenly, I realize what I’ve done. I’ve stuck my boot in my mouth. I’ve admitted, without quite admitting anything, that I’m into her. Garret probably knew that already because he’s as nosy as an old maid. Still, I would’ve been better off to deflect it with more finesse.
I’m slipping.
I backtrack as fast as I can. “What does she want? To follow me around and pester me with questions about … who knows what? I don’t have time for that shit, Garret.”
“You better find time. Her offer costs us nothing but some time—”
“My time.”
“Your time. Fine.” He huffs. “But there’s no cash involved. If I have to pay someone to help me—because I’m fresh out of ideas, Gray—then that puts us even further into the hole.”
I hang my head.
He’s right. I’ve heard him bemoaning all of this to Grant for the last couple of months. Their conversations about increasing revenue and decreasing overhead have been the main topic of discussion for a while now. I tune out, mostly, because the business aspect of what we do isn’t in my wheelhouse. I don’t enjoy it, and I’m not good at it. Give me a wrench, and I’ll take control. But this shit isn’t news to me.
I sigh as I look back up at my brother. “What about Grace at the Secret Garden Bookshop? I bet she knows someone who could help us out.” I knock on the side of the truck as inspiration hits. “What about someone at the high school? Or college? There has to be some geek that likes making that shit and is looking for a side hustle.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugs. “Either way, it’s more time we’re spending and less money we’re making—especially when we have an answer right here.” He shoves off the truck and stands under the streetlight, pointing back to Fireside. “I saw her mom’s website. It’s good, Gray. It’s better than good. Haley knows what she’s doing.”
Groaning under my breath, I push off my truck too, and kick at a rock. It rolls across the pavement before coming to a rest near an empty pop bottle that someone should really pick up.
“You’re obviously going to want this done soon, and I’m busy,” I tell him. “I wouldn’t be able to sit down with her for weeks. Months, maybe. Hell, it could be next year before my schedule frees up.” Never would be even better.
He ignores me. “Let her come to the shop and follow you around. You can grunt your answers from underneath a truck. You won’t even have to try to keep your eyes off her. It’ll be impossible.”
I whirl around to face him. “Ever heard of OSHA? That’s definitely a safety violation.” And fucking stupid.
“Oh, since when do you care about rules, Gray?”
That’s fair.
“I don’t know why you’re being a jerk about this,” Garret says. “So, it’ll put you out for a few minutes. Don’t be selfish.”
I run my hands through my hair and try to avoid his gaze. Garret never asks much of me. He lets me get away with ignoring company meetings and buying supplies that are better quality but higher priced than he would like. I come in late, half-ass my paperwork, and Garret never says a word.
And when I look up at him, I know he’s thinking the same damn thing.
He grins a got-ya smile, and my defiance starts to slip.
“I’m going to be real with you here,” he says. “I’m seriously worried about the future of Blake Brother Auto. With that place in Syn City closing down, we have a shot at not only saving our ass but also expanding. Expanding, Grayson. But if we don’t use this opportunity to our advantage, we might have to let Tristan go.”
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
We stand facing each other under the hazy halogen lights. The severity of the situation is written all over Garret’s face