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Gunnar
Romance was the lastthing on my mind as I walked into work after lunch on Valentine's Day. Well, truthfully, romance was almost never on my mind, and Valentine's Day was the absolute worst. I'd miraculously avoided all the holiday decorations that usually put me in a bad mood. Hell, I'd avoided thinking about the holiday nearly all day, right until I opened the door to Malloy Custom Motorcycles.
And I discovered that the most awful, tacky version of the horrid holiday had exploded all over my showroom.
The two recently completed motorcycle builds we had on display in the front window were covered in roses and pink and white carnations; the reception desk had two massive bouquets on either end; and a crisp, white tablecloth covered the conference table, which was set with glittery gold plates and shining champagne glasses.
There were candles everywhere. Everywhere.
Our company specialized in custom builds and mods for classic and contemporary motorcycles. We were not a hearts-and-flowers kind of shop, not by a long stretch. With a growl, I spun around, looking for someone to punch.
As if volunteering, my idiot brother waved cheerfully at me as he lit the last of the candles.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered under my breath, taking in the scene.
"Ah, Gunnar! What do you think?" He didn't bother to hide his amusement. "My date with the lucky winner from the KHZY Radio Valentine's Day bachelor contest arrives in fifteen minutes, and I'm going all out. Gonna look so sexy on our social media."
"This is not sexy. That bike over there—" I pointed to the 1957 Panhead we'd recently bought at auction and rebuilt. "It was sexy. WAS being the operative word, because someone put fucking carnations in the front end."
Jay, who was a perpetually cheerful idiot, just laughed. "Still looks good on Instagram. Why do you look so stunned? We talked about this last week."
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my anger in check. "When we talked about this last week, we agreed on doing this shit elsewhere, not in our fucking shop. This is a business."
"Agreed is a stretch," Jay scoffed. "It was more like you lectured me, then stomped out of the room before I could make my case."
"You have no case, so I win. That's why you're the little brother and I'm the older brother."
"That's not an agreement. For an agreement to happen, we must discuss and then agree. It's right there in the word:agreement." Jay must have had a death wish, because he poked me in the chest. "And we both own this shop, 50/50."
I narrowed my eyes at him. I'd never been a violent man, but Jay made me consider that life on a weekly basis. He backed away, holding his hands up, probably sensing I was this close to snapping. He knew I hated Valentine's Day, and he knew I hated this idea.
"Gunnar, it's one afternoon. It's gonna bring in more customers. What's the harm?"
"Besides making this place look like a cliché nightmare?" I waved a hand at the hearts and flowers dripping from every surface, then pointed to the bikes in the window display. "Howabout the harm to the bikes? We spent time and money on those and you've stacked flowers on them? What if you scratched the chrome?"
"I didn't scratch the chrome. Stop freaking out."
I checked my watch. If the woman was due to arrive for lunch, that left me plenty of time to throttle my little brother before she got here.
"Listen." Jay raised his hands in appeasement. "You know I wouldn't put the shop at risk. But if it brings in more clients, then it's worth it, right? We need to spread our wings wider than this small town. Besides, since when are you worried about looking cool? Our last three contract orders have been trikes for grandma and her friends."
"Badass trikes."
The front door of the shop burst open and our grandmother bounced in, probably summoned by the mention of trikes. She was five-foot-nothing and slim, dressed in a hot pink tracksuit and white sneakers, plus a well-worn leather jacket that should never be paired with a hot pink tracksuit. Her silver pixie-cut hair was slightly squashed, and the helmet hair was a sure sign she'd ridden her motorcycle here.
"You two up for some lunch? Daisy and I did our Galentine's Day yoga session at Naomi's studio and I've worked up an appetite. Made me quite spry." She did a lunge to prove it. I cringed as her knees creaked, but she didn't seem to notice.
"Hi, Grandma." I leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"The yoga instructor Naomi hired is a cutie. One of you should hop on that." She glanced from me to my little brother. "Probably Jay. Gunnar, you know I love you, but you're not too limber. She won't be impressed."
I frowned. "I'm limber."
"No need for a setup here! I already have a date this afternoon, grandma." Jay leaned down to kiss her cheek. "She'll be here any minute. You're right, though, Gunnar could use a little help with his flexibility."
Wanda chuckled, then froze mid-laugh and started slowly spinning around the room, taking in the new decor. I wondered how she'd only just noticed. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open.
"Did a Hallmark store puke all over your shop?" she asked.
