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ONE
BROOKE
How many peoplein this town would be scandalized if they knew the case I was pulling from the trunk of my car contained two nude angels, intertwined in a passionate celebration?
In my experience, almost as many as were horrified that I’d stayed single for the last fifteen years, since my husband passed. How dare I have raised my twins by myself, rather than finding a man to take care of us?
The gossip used to bother me, but now it was easier to remind myself that people were funny. If they ever realized why this shop was named the way it was—Deacon’s Derelicts and D’Art—or admitted that they knew, they’d probably die of small-town humiliation.
“Ohshit. Duck.” The call was accompanied by the buzz of a small electric motor.
I dropped the case and my head under the hood of the trunk before my brain processed what I was hearing. If I was at Deacon’s antique shop and Adam’s panicked voice barked an order, it was best to obey first and ask questions later.
A drone slammed into the trunk and clattered to the ground with a pathetic whine, then died.
“Is it safe?” I asked.
“Yes.Fuck.Sorry.Fuck.” Adam scooped the motorized plane from its resting place. He straightened as I did. “You okay?”
“I’m good.”
He ran his hand along the tail end of my partly restored ’57 Chevy Bel Air. “And your baby is okay?”
“She’s fine. But only because we haven’t repainted this sexy behind yet,” I teased. “Did your friend survive?” I nodded at his droid.
He shook his head. “I thought I was so close to getting it right this time.”
Adam was a modern-day mad scientist. Happy scientist? His current expression of frustration plus bemusement was as close as I ever saw him to angry. “Meh, back to the drawing board. Let me carry that in for you,” he said. With dark hair and a square jaw, it would be easy for him to look stern all the time, but instead, there was always a wildness in his eyes and a smile on his lips.
I stepped aside and let him grab the leather briefcase that held my latest restoration project. Muscle rippled under his T-shirt with the stretch. He was a genius-scientist meets romance-novel-cover-model, and I always felt a bit decadent and naughty, watching him work.
Thatwould give the townspeople something to talk about—the forty-year-old widow with two basically adult twins, hooking up with the newcomer to town who was eight years younger.
Not that I’d ever hook up with Adam. Or Deacon. I was older, laden with baggage and kids, and my conservative upbringing still ruled most of my instincts. I didn’t mind how frequently Adam cussed, but it wasn’t something I could do, and that was just one example.
I’d also only ever been with one man—my late husband. I was pretty sure Adam and Deacon were not only together, no matter how much they denied it, but also both fine with the other seeing other people.
Plus, fantasizing about either of them definitely made for the kind of dreams I’d been told as a child would earn me a one-way ticket to Hell.
We stepped through the front door of the antique shop, and an electric tune greeted us. That was new.
“Addams Family?” I looked at Adam.
“I’m trying out different things. What do you think?”
“How’d the test flight go?” Deacon called from somewhere in the shop before I could answer.
“It was as grand and memorable as the maiden voyage of The Titanic.” Adam led the way, carrying my case further into the store. “But I rescued a damsel in distress from the sinking boat.”
We rounded the corner on a row of shelves filled with classic lunchboxes, to find Deacon behind the register. The vase of orange poppies next to him was the only new thing in this place, and I loved the contrast of the fresh flowers with a shop full of antiques.
He looked at me with a smirk. “Damsel?”
Deacon was as yummy to look at as Adam, but in a different way. Until about a month ago, his dirty-blond hair had been pulled back into a bun on the top of his head. He’d shaved it all for a charity event, but he swore he’d grow it back. Long sleeves hid arms and a back toned from years of manual labor, as well as some sexy as heck tattoos. He was gorgeous in that I-used-to-be-wild-and-I-still-act-like-it-but-really-I’ve-settled-down kind of way.
I shrugged. “I was almost taken out by Skynet’s grandmother. I’m quite distressed.”
“You don’t look it.” The way Deacon trailed his gaze over me left a wave of heat that would’ve melted even the most stubborn iceberg, flooding my body.
