CHAPTER SIX THE MOMENT IT ALL CHANGED

Brayden—

The garage smells like all garages—motor oil and gasoline.

A woman turns, and my eyes skate over her. She’s wearing overalls with a tube top underneath. Her long dark hair hangs in a messy braid to her waist. She’s got a ball cap pulled low, but I still see the beautiful face. She may dress like a tomboy, but her makeup is done to perfection.

Her beauty takes my breath away, and I’m suddenly struck dumb.

Her scrutiny drops from me to my bike, and she cocks her head, frowning. “We were just about to close up, but we might be able to take care of something that simple.”

“Appreciate it.” My gaze shifts to the man working two bays over, cleaning up his tools, and tossing them into the drawer of a red upright rolling tool chest with a clanging sound. He doesn’t even turn around.

The beauty walks toward me, and a cute little white pit bull puppy trails at her heels. I squat and give a couple of scratches. “Pretty dog.”

She scoops the animal up and cuddles it close, and I’ve never been more envious of a dog before.

“This is Daisy, and you are?”

I straighten and extend my hand. “Sorry. I’m Brayden Austin.”

She slips her small hand in mine, and the moment we touch, it’s like a jolt goes through me. Her eyes widen, taking in my face, and I think she must feel it, too.

“Um, hi Brayden. I’m Rebel.”

Rebel. I commit her name to memory.

We stare at each other, still holding hands. Finally, she clears her throat and pulls her hand back.

“Let’s take a look at your tire.”

I follow her toward my bike, squatting to show her the nail. “It’s close to the wall. Not sure it can be patched.”

She squats alongside me, and I breathe in her scent. It’s like some fantastic perfume combined with coconut shampoo. I’m instantly addicted.

She leans to study my tire. “I wouldn’t trust it with a patch. You could have a blowout.”

“That would suck.”

My license plate catches her attention. “West Coast boy, huh? You’re a long way from home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She straightens, and I do the same.

“You wouldn’t happen to have this size tire in stock here, would you?”

“Nope, sorry. We get all our tires from Reilly’s. They deliver, but they close in about five minutes. Let me make a call. Maybe they’ll do me a favor.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

She turns to walk to the shop phone, and my gaze hits her ass. The overalls are so baggy, it’s hard to see her true shape, but she’s slender, and from what I could see with the tube top, she’s stacked. My dick approves, overalls be damned.

While she makes the call, I eye the car she was working on and wander over. The hood is up, and she’s got some of the wiring pulled out.

A minute later, she hangs the phone up.

The guy across the bay moves toward the parking lot. “I’m heading out, Reb. See you tomorrow.”

“We’re closed tomorrow, Chris. Remember?”

“Right. Your thing is tomorrow. See you Monday, then.”

After he leaves, I turn to her. “Any luck?”

“Yeah, but their delivery guy left. They’ll wait for us, but we have to pick it up.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Sure. I can’t leave you hanging. Come on.” She rolls the garage doors down and locks the business, then scoops up the pup and heads to a pickup truck with the words Pelham Garage emblazoned on the door. I slide into the passenger seat. “Don’t mind Daisy. She’ll ride in the back of the crew cab.”

“No problem. I love dogs.”

She gives me a wink. “That’s a point in your favor, then.”

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll earn some more.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, beachboy.”

“Beachboy? I’ve been called some names, but that’s a new one.”

That earns me a giggle as she spins the wheel, turning onto the highway.

Daisy takes position on the center console, watching the road. I chuckle and scratch her ear. “She’s your co-pilot, isn’t she?”

“Most days, if she doesn’t have her head hanging out the window.” Rebel reaches for the volume and turns up a song. “I love this one. Mind?”

“Not at all.” I relax and look around. “So, this is Pelham, huh? This is my first time in Alabama.”

“What brings you to town?”

I don’t want to get into the whole MC thing with this girl. I’ve seen it turn too many women off, and I don’t want to see that closed off expression replace the open one on Rebel’s face. So, I tell her a half truth. “Got a friend in town I came to visit.”

“I see. You in town for long?”

“Probably just a few days.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

A big grin forms on my face. “Maybe it’ll be long enough to take you to dinner to say thanks.”

“Maybe it will.”

We go inside and pick up the tire. I pay for it and carry it to the bed of the truck. On the way to the garage, I spot a Mexican restaurant.

“That place any good?”

“It’s fantastic. My favorite place. They have the best queso.”

“How are the margaritas?”

“Delicious.”

“You want to grab a bite? My treat?”

She glances at me. “You don’t have to do that. Really.”

“I’m hungry. Have you eaten dinner?”

“Not yet.”

Daisy barks, reminding me she’s in the car with us. “Oh, wait. We’ve got the dog.”

“Do you really want to go there?”

“I do.”

“Well, if we eat on the patio, we can bring her.” There’s a sparkle in her eyes that excites me.

“Sounds perfect.”

She changes lanes and makes a U-turn.

Once we park, Rebel attaches a leash to Daisy, and we grab a table. Mariachi music plays on a speaker mounted on the wall, and candles burn in glass jars.

I pull out a chair for her, and she looks a little surprised, but a smile lights her face as she sits. I want to get to know this woman. She intrigues me in a way I’m not sure I can explain. Sure, she’s beautiful, but it”s way more than that.

We’re not seated long before a waiter comes over with menus. “Good evening. Welcome to Santiago’s. Can I start you off with a margarita?”

“Strawberry, frozen,” Rebel replies.

“I’ll have a classic on the rocks,” I say. “And bring us an order of queso. I hear it’s delicious.” I wink at Rebel.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

After the waiter leaves, I study the menu.

“It’s nice when a man actually listens.”

I glance up. “Men don’t listen to you?”

“I’ve found that most men don’t. They also have a problem with what I do for a living.”

“Does it affect your business?”

“Sure. A lot of people see I’m a woman and assume I can’t possibly know anything about auto repair. I’m underestimated all the time.”

“I’m sorry. Men can be dicks. How’d you get started?”

“My father used to run Pelham Garage. I’ve grown up around mechanics my entire life.” She shrugs. “I just had a natural interest since I was old enough to fetch him tools. He never minded having me hang around the garage, and he’d always take the time to teach me what he was doing. When most girls were learning how to do a manicure, I was learning how to change a spark plug.”

I can’t stop my grin. This girl’s animation when she talks about it is refreshing. I love that she loves what she does. “It sounds like you have a great dad.”

“I do.”

The waiter returns with our drinks and queso dip. “Have you decided?”

“I’ll have the trio,” Rebel orders.

“Tacos, quesadillas, and enchiladas. Perfect. Chicken or beef?”

“Beef tacos, crunchy. And chicken on the quesadillas.”

“And you, sir?”

“Sounds great. I’ll have the same.”

“Very good.” He collects the menus.

After he leaves, I lift my glass. “Here’s to flat tires and chance meetings.”

She clinks her glass to mine. “Absolutely. Cheers.”

I take a sip. “That’s a good margarita.”

“Try the queso,” Rebel says, dipping a chip in.

It’s delicious as well.

“So, Brayden, what kind of father do you have?”

I pop a chip in my mouth and chew, trying to decide what exactly to tell her about my biker father. “Well, he was tough on me and my older brother. My sister, the little angel, got away with everything.”

“Guess that was hard to take, huh?”

I shrug. “It was understandable. She was very sick as a child.”

“She’s okay now?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine.”

“What was wrong with her?”

“Leukemia. My father gave her a bone-marrow transplant, and she was better after that. It was a long recovery, but she’s fine. That was all before I was born, though. Still, my father has always treated her like she’s breakable.” I chuckle. “If you met Melissa, you’d see she’s far from fragile.”

“Would she like me?”

I cock my head and study the sincerity in her eyes. “She’d like you a lot, actually.”

The smile on her face tells me my answer pleases her. She takes a sip from her drink, and I’m relieved she’s let the topic of my father drop.

An older gentleman approaches the tables in our section, asking how everything is to patrons. It’s obvious he’s the owner or manager. Daisy is fast asleep under the table.

“My dear Rebel,” he says when he gets to us. “How have you been? Any news from your brother, Thor?”

“He’s good. Loves the military. Hates where he’s stationed. Mom gets calls from him regularly. How are you?”

“Good. Luisa just got her driver’s license. I’m in the market for a car for her. You wouldn’t happen to know of any reliable used ones for sale, would you?”

“Give me a couple of days. I may know someone.”

“That would be wonderful.” He looks over at me. “And how is your drink, Sénior?”

“Excellent. You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Gracias. Your food should be out very soon.” He withdraws, and I study Rebel.

“You must know everyone in town, huh?”

She lifts a shoulder. “I grew up here. It’s a small town.”

“So, you have a brother named Thor? That’s unusual.”

“His real name is Thomas, but he got the nickname when he was a little kid. He used to be afraid of thunder, so my dad taught him to roar back at it. Ever since, the guys all started calling him little Thor, and it just stuck. Kind of fits now, though. Before he joined the military, he was an ace mechanic and always had really loud mufflers on his bike. The guys would say, here comes the God of Thunder. Silly huh?” She shrugs. “Enough about my little brother. How about you? Where in California did you grow up?”

“San José. It’s not far from San Francisco and the Bay area.”

“What was it like growing up on the coast? Did you go to the ocean much?”

“Sure did. I love my town. We’ve got the ocean to the west and mountains to the east.”

“The Gulf is only a few hours south of here. I’ve been there a lot. The white sandy beaches are beautiful.”

“What’s your favorite place?” I ask, suddenly wanting to know everything about this girl.

“That I’ve been? New Orleans. My grandfather lives there.”

“That’s pretty cool. I’ve never been myself.” I notice a tattoo peeking from under her overall straps. “I see you like ink.”

She glances down. “Oh, yeah. It’s a hummingbird.”

“And what’s the significance of that?”

She shrugs. “None. I just like them.” She nods to my forearm, and I’m glad the only ink she can see with my shirt on is not any club related designs. “That’s pretty.”

It’s my skull wearing a top hat.

“That reminds me of the villain in Princess and the Frog.”

It’s an odd thing to say, and I chuckle. “I guess you’re right about that. Now I’ll never look at it the same.”

That gets a laugh out of her just as the waiter brings our food.

We spend the next hour enjoying some really good food and even better company.

When the check comes, I pull out a card and set it on the tray. She doesn’t argue, and I like that.

“Thanks for dinner,” she says.

“You’re welcome. I haven’t enjoyed a meal this much in a long time.”

“I guess we should get back and get that tire on your bike.”