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"I meant a job back in Portland."
"Hazy Cove is better," he said, eyes sparkling.
"Colby, I—" My breath caught, the reality of my life clashing with the dream he painted. But the smile that curved my lips was genuine, born from a place deep within me that yearned for a job I truly loved.
"Think about it," he urged. "No need to make a decision right now. And I should warn you that the pay is shit, but the cost of living here is reasonable."
"Okay, I'll think about it," I said, grateful that he'd given me the out. Surely, I'd have to turn down the offer, but I didn't have to say no quite yet.
I stepped out into the cool morning, looking around the quaint little town and smiling a little. A pleasant breeze ruffled my hair,and the sun was out, making the scene sparkle. Perhaps this place was a little bit magic, and it seemed like Hazy Cove's magic was precisely the sort I needed.
I texted Nori, telling her about my morning. I knew what her answer would be before she replied.
Just take the damn job, and send me part of your paycheck for rent!
Gunnar
Even a new motorcyclebuild couldn't scrub the images of her from my skull—Mira Shah, with those warm brown eyes and that cascade of dark hair. It had been four days since I'd had her bent over the bondage table, begging for my cock. Four days since she'd disappeared out the back door, leaving me hard and wanting.
Four days since her father had told me he needed to disappear. Four days since I'd flipped out, my own childhood rushing back at me.
Had I known he owed Mira's mom years of back child support, I never would have hired him. No wonder he'd wanted to work as a subcontractor instead of as an employee.
"Hey." Jay's cheerful voice broke into my thoughts as he walked up and tossed a rag onto the workbench. "You got that look again. No one willing at the party the other night?"
"Fuck off," I grunted, not bothering to look up from the carburetor I was elbow-deep in. I needed this motorcycle to purr like a kitten more than I needed to see my jackass brother's smug grin. And he was right. I hadn't fucked anyone at the BDSM party. I'd made the rounds, greeted my friends, and slipped quietly into my office, avoiding everything and everyone. My appetite for Mira was all-consuming. I couldn't even consider being with another woman.
Jay paused, staring at me. "If you were thinking about Mira, which I'm not saying you are, I might have her number."
"Her number?" My hands stilled on the metal. "Why the hell would you get that? I thought the date was a disaster."
"Don't worry, I'm not interested in her. You know who has my heart."
"Luke goddamn Crow is not gonna fuck you, baby brother."
Jay flinched, then took a deep breath and looked my way, eyes sparkling with a challenge. "So you're saying I should go after Mira Shah?"
I considered killing him. And he must have known I was considering it, because he backed off.
"I'm kidding, calm down, psycho. I got her number as part of the radio show date thing. And your message yesterday made it clear that you saw her and it freaked you out." Jay leaned against the workbench, arms crossed over his chest. "By the way, are you going to admit KHZY worked? We have two meetings this week."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Not until after the meetings, jackass."
"Anyway, what if Vin wants to talk to her? Could be an excuse for you to see her again."
"Vin left."
Jay frowned. "What? But she just showed up! Why would her dad go?"
"He thinks she's after him for money."
"Damn, we have more in common with Mira than I would have thought. Vin is like Dad all over again, minus the arrest record." Jay tugged on his hair, looking a little stressed at the thought of our tumultuous relationship with our parents. We were damn lucky to have Wanda. As nutty as our grandmother was, she'd taken us in without question, loved us with her whole heart, and would do anything for us.
"Yeah, so naturally, when Vin announced his departure, I didn't react well. Besides, why would I need an excuse to see her again? She's too goddamn young for me."
"Oh come on. She's 24. You're only 32, Gunnar, not dead." Jay was choosing violence today. There was no other explanation for the words that were coming out of his mouth. He pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen, and an instant later, my phone buzzed in my pocket. "Texted her number to you. Ball's in your court."
"There's no goddamn ball. Or court," I grumped.
