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He wanted nothing to do with any of them. He was only civil with them all because he had to be due to the business they gave the garage. That was it.
Rook spat into the nearby pile of snow. “Didn’t do it for you. Did it for him.”
“Right. Well, thanks,” Bryson muttered before going back inside.
After clearing the remaining snow, Rook propped the shovel against the building and stared through the window at the two men who didn’t hide how much they meant to each other. Neither cared about what society thought about their marriage. They both loved each other enough to risk being bullied, insulted and even jumped for who they were as men and who they were to each other.
Watching the two of them interact inside the salon, he could see why they’d take that risk.
It was too damn clear.
With a last look at the couple, Rook jumped into the truck and headed back to the garage to wait for word from Ozzy that the eviction from both the motel and town had been successful.
If not, he would go down there himself. Even if what he had to do violated his parole.
Because the next time he wouldn’t be alone in teaching the unforgettable lesson those men needed to learn.
He wouldn’t be alone at all.
Chapter Fifteen
Jet parked her Toyota in one of the diagonal empty parking spots in the lot at Dutch’s garage.
After putting her Highlander in Park, she shut off the engine and stared at the building. During the summer all the bay doors would be open, the front door would be propped wide, and she’d be able see the men working inside. Being the beginning of January when the weather was as cold as a witch’s tit, it was all closed up to keep the heat contained.
They’d had six inches of snow overnight while she worked, but it had tapered off by the time she left station at the end of her shift and now the roads were cleared and so was the garage lot.
Of course, not one Harley was lined up outside like they normally were during the warmer months. The club had some hardcore riders, but she rarely saw anyone in the Fury riding when it was this bitter cold or snowy.
She had no idea what Rook drove in the winter and she shouldn’t care. She just knew she hadn’t spotted Dutch’s loaner car, the Honda, or any car at the bottom of the mountain. But then, it wouldn’t be smart to sneak up there and do whatever they were doing when the ground was covered in snow and the trees were barren, making them easier to spot.
Yes, going up there to mess with the Shirleys at this time of year would be stupid. But stupid and stubborn sometimes went hand in hand. And those bikers were certainly stubborn. She pursed her lips.
But then, so were cops.
And maybe a few Brysons…
Actually, all of them. By blood or by marriage.
Including her, obviously, because here she was, taking time out of her next two nights off to stop by the garage to talk to Rook.
But at least she had a valid reason.
She told herself it was that reason why she opened her car door, pulled her scarf tighter around her once again unmarked throat, and tugged her knitted wool cap more securely over her head.
Instead of pulling on just any warm beanie, she had picked the cutest winter hat she owned. The cream-colored cable-knit cap with the brim emphasized her light blue eyes and long black hair. While she wasn’t into lipstick, she had swiped on some pink-tinted lip gloss, so her lips wouldn’t chap in the dry air.
Uh huh. Right.
She sighed, slammed shut her driver’s door and strode across the lot before she allowed herself to change her mind.
Yanking open the door, she stepped into the darker interior and paused a second for her vision to adjust. Air guns and a car lift being powered into the air filled the building, along with a stereo blasting some classic rock.
She heard a couple of voices coming from the garage’s office to the right. One she easily recognized as Reilly, the other sounded like it could be Rev.
She spotted Dutch in the corner standing in front of a bench with his back to her, while he worked on something. Whip stood under the car that he’d just raised on the lift with his face tipped up, examining whatever he needed to work on. Cage was leaning into the engine compartment under the hood of a Ford in the bay nearest to where Jet stood. And Rook…
She took a deep inhale, the smell of fuel, motor oil and burnt brake pads filling her nostrils.
Rook was at the far end of the garage with a woman. She was standing close and holding his right hand in both of hers. With her head tipped down, her long dark blonde hair covered her profile. Rook’s head was also tipped down and his lips were moving not far from the top of her hair. He was saying something but nothing Jet could hear.
