“What are we doing here?” I ask Liam, while trying to figure out how to tell him now.
Something I don’t even want toadmit to myself. I got the partnership, and gave up a piece of my inheritance. A vital piece. Heritage. My family’s history.
The thought that Grandpa and Mom would be disappointed hurts me physically. But at least I don’t have to face them.
Liam, on the other hand? Fuck.
“We’re waiting for a delivery.” He pulls me to him, kissing my forehead. My body relaxes against him before the guilt claws back.
“Delivery?” I croak.
“I’m adding the Bentley to your collection.” He smiles at me—one of those disarming smiles that makes my legs tremble.
This is getting even worse than I thought.
“You don’t want to sell it?” I ask, as if that mattered.
“I was rebuilding it while you were rebuilding me. I’m keeping it.” He smiles at me.
Yes, this is definitely getting worse.Just tell him, Roxy.
“That’s… I don’t know what to say.”
He’s creating memories here, and I’m going to taint them.
He wraps his arms around me. “You don’t have to say anything. We will keep it here while I’m refurbishing my garage. Then we can move them all there, and you don’t need to rent this place.”
“Is this some kind of ‘what’s yours is mine’ gesture?” I stall. Yes, I fucking stall. How am I going to tell him now?
He doesn’t get a chance to answer, because what looks like a twelve-wheeler maneuvers into the yard. What the hell?
“This looks like you are moving your entire alley here, bricks and all.” I watch the transporter turning slowly to back up toward my garage.
A crew jumps out, and the tailgate is lowered. My heart beats erratically. I don’t understand what’s happening.
This is not just the Bentley. But that still doesn’t change the fact that cars are missing behind the blue doors of my garage.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Liam jiggles the keys in front of me.
“You want me to drive her?” I stare at the keys.Just tell him finally, Roxy.
“You have a license, don’t you?” He pushes the keys into my hand.
“What if I nick her?”
It would be easier to explain a scratch than five missing legends.
“I’ll fix her.” He shrugs, and I chance a glance at him.
He’s standing there, his hands in the pockets of hisjeans, channeling his typical controlled confidence that makes me squirm.
No flexing his fingers. He really means it.
“Go,” he urges. “I’m sure these gentlemen have other jobs today.”
I start toward the loading ramp.
“Thunder,” Liam calls.
