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They chuckled as they left the room and started for their cars. Dean smiled in spite of everything else going on. He had something in common with these guys and they were working together. It felt good for the first time since he’d been forced to leave his team.
They went to a bar Gage knew, and Dean loved the atmosphere, but it did remind him that only recently he’d let alcohol dull his senses, but since he’d been home, he hadn’t wanted to self-medicate around O. There were a lot of veterans who frequented the establishment. It felt as good as their budding friendship.
“So, tell me about your boss and the closing of the shop,” Dean said to Gage after they’d been served their burgers and fries, Jessica and Logan still waiting for their food. The place was dim, except for the can lights in the ceiling and the illumination of the TV. The Dodgers and White Sox were playing on the screen.
“He and his customers have been so harassed by The Black Hearts MC, he’s lost too much business. It’s too bad. He’s a great guy.” He leaned back and took a sip of his beer. “I went after them a couple of times, but Ave got so steamed I backed off. He didn’t want me to get hurt or arrested. Said it wasn’t worth it.”
“So, what are you two going to do after the shop closes?”
Gage shrugged.
“How about you and Ave come to work for me? I need a manager and a top-notch motorcycle mechanic and restorer. Sound like something you’d be interested in?”
Gage’s eyes lit up and he smiled a true smile. “Are you kidding me? Yes.” He set down his beer. “I can’t speak for Ave, but I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance. He has a family to support.”
“Good.” Dean reached into his back jeans pocket and pulled out a card. “Come by when you both get a chance.”
“Ooh-rah,” Gage said softly.
Dean laughed. “A squid and jarhead. Who would have thought it?”
“Yeah,” Gage said. “So, what’s with MIT?”
“Who?
“Jessica.” He slanted her a look and nudge with his chin. “What’s her story?”
“You’ll need to ask her. We’re working partners only, man.”
Gage nodded, then sat back, his gaze slipping back to Jessica and Logan. He hoped this…attraction didn’t hamper the investigation.
A half an hour later, his headlights glanced off the side of the Harley Street building, the swath of light bright against the concrete. He parked by the side door in the back and started up the path to the darkened structure.
He’d considered half a dozen options on the drive back from the bar but let it go for tonight. He and O would be working together. He’d have plenty of opportunities to talk to her. He knew what needed to be said, what he needed to say, but tonight was the wrong time. All he knew for sure was that before he got into anything heavy, he had to explain his reasons for not telling her about the black op job offer.
Once inside, he paused at the tenant elevator when he saw the light still on in Granny’s office. He walked through the glass doors and across the polished floor. He pushed the half-closed door open. “What are you still doing here?”
She swiveled in her chair and said, “I’m finishing up.”
“Go home, Jennifer,” he said firmly.
“You better have respect for your elders, young man.”
“I do, Granny. Move your butt.”
She chuckled and reached for her purse. He walked with her to the front door and let her out. “Good night.”
She waved, then stopped and turned. “Oh, by the way, you have a visitor in your loft. I let her in,” she yelled.
“Who?” he yelled back, but Granny was already down the path and either didn’t hear or didn’t choose to hear him. He locked up the front door and headed again for the elevator.
“Damn that woman,” he murmured.
The interior of the loft was wrapped in silence, but the small light was on over the sink, casting the kitchen in a faint luminescence. With a knot in his gut the size of his fist, Dean entered the half-darkened room and toed off his boots by the door, the silence like a weight around him. The tension that had been riding him since he left the bar let go in a rush, and he rested his hands on his hips and wearily tipped his head back. She must have left.
“Dean?”
He straightened and looked into the gloom in the living room, his heart missing a beat when a shimmer of white rose from the sofa. A sudden ache jammed up his throat. “Hi,” he said, his voice gruff.
