Pit Stop: Baby: Dirty DILFs Book 4 Read online

  My gut dropped into my toes and I had to steady myself on the front door of her building. What if I hadn’t been there and she’d fallen into the street?

  I couldn’t think about that. I had been there, and it didn’t seem as if it was a usual occurrence for her to rely on someone else—even for a few minutes.

  Sleep deprivation could mess you up. I knew that all too well. Not because I normally had trouble sleeping, but when I was deep in figuring out a problem with my car, I’d spent a string of nights working it out with the engineer on my team. I had a knack with motors, but with new high-tech electronics making everything more complex, well…there were some things above my capabilities. Then getting behind the wheel—yeah, I’d pulled some bonehead moves in my time.

  Rylee seemed more practical than that, so I assumed she hadn’t been intentionally burning the candle at both ends. I could only hope she had a touch of some flu. I’d know soon enough since I couldn’t keep my lips off of her.

  “Fucking animal,” I muttered as I pushed open the door.

  Instead of heading out to my car, I went into J&T’s Auto. I wasn’t done talking to my brother. He was surly as shit, but even more so than usual. I hadn’t been around much and he’d shouldered a lot of the responsibilities in our family. Our parents were getting older, but they definitely weren’t ready for the old folks’ home.

  My mother probably would run whichever one she ended up in anyway.

  Besides, I’d been at their house for the last few days. The Honey-Do list was extensive enough for me to know Dare had been dealing with his own stuff. Maybe it was just nerves due to another kid on the way, but it felt like something else.

  Dare under stress grunted more and put his head down to do the work. Today, his eyes had been a little wild and panicked. And I wasn’t used to seeing that when it came to my big brother.

  Time to find out the score.

  The change from bright spring daylight to the dank garage made me squint. Instead of my brother, I found the heavyset owner, his shock of white hair nearly standing straight up, flicking through an order book.

  “Hey, old man. Where’s my brother?”

  “Well, if it isn’t the fancy pants race car driver. Decided to hang up your helmet?”

  I shrugged. “At least for now.”

  “If you’re looking for a place for cars, come talk to me.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “Didn’t Dare tell you?”

  Ding-ding. I knew something was up. “You selling?”

  “Yeah, time for this old man to retire. All these cars are just computers these days. And no one wants to pay a decent mechanic. Get their tuneups at the car wash combo oil change places these days.”

  “Good to know. Not sure what I’d do with a garage.”

  “You don’t have a bunch of fancy cars?”

  I laughed. “No, I didn’t waste my money on a fleet of cars like some of the drivers.”

  He scratched the back of his head so his hair stood up even more. “Huh. Well, that’s a surprise.”

  “I don’t like to be predictable.”

  “Evidently not.” He nodded toward the back of the shop. “Your brother’s in the back junkyard looking for some lug nut he swears is out there.”

  I followed the sound of banging. My brother had climbed up on a rusted-out shell of a car. He was kicking a crowbar the size of my damn leg.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “It’s rusted…” He grunted as he tried for more leverage. “On.”

  The squeak of metal grinding killed me. “Jesus. Let me help.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Oscar.”

  “What did you call me?”

  “Oscar, you know—”

  “I know.” He frowned and ripped open his work shirt and tossed it over the hood of the next car over.

  “Big man can do his work now that those pesky sleeves aren’t in the way.”

  “Fuck off.” But Dare’s mouth twitched a little.

  Bastard just wouldn’t lighten up about anything.

  I let him get some of his frustrations out on the rusty lug nut and picked up his shirt off the hood of the old Ford. “What the hell are you guys doing with a ’41 Ford back here?”

  “Fucking fuck.” Dare wiped his forehead with the back of his forearm and jumped down. “What are you crying about?”

  “Get it off?”

  He gave me a bored look and rattled the lug nuts in his hand.

  “Look at you. Didn’t even bleed.”

  “If I wanted this kind of abuse, I’d be home with my kid.” He peered over my shoulder. “That rust bucket?”

  “Dude, it’s a hot rod.”

  “It was a hot rod.” Dare grabbed back his shirt. “Now it’s a rusty nightmare.”

  “Do you have any idea how much people pay for these things? Even just for parts, it’s worth a couple grand.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll let Jerome know. Maybe he can put out some feelers before…” He fell silent.

  “I heard.”

  Dare speared his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Fucking timing. I didn’t think he’d be retiring for a few more years.”

  “So, buy it.”

  “What? No.” He blew out a breath. “I put my name out to a few places, but garages aren’t what they used to be, man.”

  “If you actually used your contacts, you’d have more business than you could handle.”

  “Yeah, well, I have a family. I can’t be working fourteen hours a day on stock cars. And those grease monkeys never have money. They always want to trade favors. I am not about that life.”

  “You’re wasted here.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “Jesus, Dare. You’ve still got the best hands in the business. You know how to pull apart an engine and rebuild it like fucking Macgyver.”

  “I like working nine to five and going the hell home.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care what you believe. Don’t start blowing smoke here when you know you’ll be gone in a few weeks.”

  “How do you know that? You don’t know shit about me.”

  How could he, when I was still figuring out my next steps myself?

  “Whose fault is that? And people don’t change.”

  “Obviously, they do. The Dare I remember was excited about being under the hood of a car. Now you do oil changes like Valvoline.”

  Dare twisted my shirt and pushed me back against the hot rod. “I take care of my family. I stick. Unlike you.”

  I shoved him back, my heart racing. I hadn’t come back here to get into a fight with my brother, dammit. “Don’t.”

  He backed up, his jaw tight. “Don’t talk shit about stuff you know nothing about. You’ve been the golden boy on the racing circuit for years. You don’t know what it’s like to work and worry. So don’t give me some crap advice about me being a good mechanic.”

  I opened my mouth, but Dare sliced his hand through the air. “Enough. Get the fuck out of here.”

  But I didn’t have a chance, because Dare stalked out first.

  I slammed my hand on the rusted hood of the car. Well, that went well. I knew better than to push at my brother. He needed to think it was his idea. But I knew he was wasting his talents here. I hadn’t been blowing smoke about that.

  With one last sigh, I smoothed my hand down the scoop of the hood. Rat rods were in big demand. Between the two of us, we could trick it out and sell it for ten or twenty times what we’d pay for the parts.

  The garage and the junkyard was perfect for working on them.

  I scrubbed my hands over my hair. Lately, I was striking out everywhere when it came to people. But for the first time in a long damn time, I was excited.

  This was something I knew how to do.

  And I knew plenty of guys who had money to burn on stupid cars that were tricked out and one of a kind. Even better, I knew of a handful of people who m
ight be interested in working on the cars. Custom fabrication was fucking expensive, but I had the start-up money. Especially when I had the perfect person to do it up right.

  I pulled out my phone and dug through my contacts. This kind of thing required more than a text.

  On the third ring, a purring voice came on the line. “Has hell frozen over?”

  “Hey, Burns. How’re things?”

  “Boring.”

  “You’re no good at being bored.”

  Her throaty laugh boomed in my ear. “No, I am not. Got some trouble in mind?”

  “Maybe. How fast can you get to upstate New York?”

  “New York? Crap. I don’t know, couple days.”

  “Well, get on that big beautiful bike of yours and come see me. I’ll text you the address.”

  “You better make it worth my time.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “No.”

  “Burns…”

  “Okay, yes. But I still think we would be better naked friends.”

  “You’d chew me up and spit me out. Pass.”

  Her throaty laugh was her reply. She hung up on me. I grinned as I shoved my phone into my pocket and headed up the sidewalk to Brewed Awakening.

  Tish Burns was as scary as she was beautiful, but she was also one of my oldest friends. I wouldn’t fuck that up by sleeping with her.

  Besides, the only one I wanted to get naked with lately was a crazy dark-haired siren. It was time to check up on her with a little coffee in hand.

  Surely my luck had to be in somewhere today.

  Eight

  “These need to be done by three.” Kathy dumped two baskets and a three-foot vase on my work table.

  “Three?”

  “If you were here on time, it wouldn’t have been an issue. Monty already has a funeral order and I’m working on the Jenkins wedding for tomorrow.”

  I bit down on my tongue. “Got it.”

  I’d been over three hours late. Kathy didn’t care about my excuses. To be honest, I couldn’t blame her. I’d been pushing the no-sleep thing for too many days. Too afraid to doze off for long in case I tried to sneak into Macy’s place again. Now I was even more afraid of trying to break in. She’d had to change the codes and add the cameras to cover her own ass.

  Me wandering around was just plain dangerous, especially with stairs in the mix. I’d jerry-rigged an alarm on my front door. So far, I hadn’t gone down the steps again, but I’d been hitting the fridge pretty hard. My famous peanut butter knives were back in the drawer. I’d even found a potted plant in my crisper before I left for work.

  The more I freaked about it, the more it spiraled, but I couldn’t calm down and sleep.

  I pulled my phone out and opened up the meditation podcast I’d found. Maybe if I found my center, I could find my pillow without putting it in the fridge too.

  I grabbed my pail and headed for the cooler. Eh, this wouldn’t do right now. The meditation podcast made me want to crawl up on one of the carts and take a nap so I switched it out for my favorite true crime podcast. Separating out the flowers I needed according to the form was monotonous and soothing, and the case details gave my busy brain a focus.

  By the time I hefted the overflowing pail and returned to my work station, I was invested in the missing person’s case and ready to make these arrangements my bitch. I didn’t mind the bigger projects. It gave me time to stretch my design capabilities. My grandmother had been a florist and taught me the difference between a mum and a carnation before I could read. Following her around the shop and our conversations as we fussed with flowers were some of my favorite memories.

  I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to be when I grew up, but this would do for now.

  I’d been in every level of retail hell from food service to department stores. I’d done the call center thing, tried insurance temp agencies, and doctor’s offices. I’d even sold ad space at a radio station for six months before the host of the channel had hit on me one too many times. I’d left the mic open during one of his more salacious come-ons and gotten his ass fired.

  After that, I’d received a polite severance package with more zeroes than my time there merited to go on my way without suing. I took it as hazard pay and padded my nest egg.

  I’d squirreled away information from all of them, but nothing ever quite clicked. Flowers came the closest.

  And now I had to prove myself yet again. Seemed that was what I was always doing to get out of one scrape or another.

  “What are you doing?”

  I pulled my earbud out of my ear. “The main arrangement.”

  “You’re using too many lilies. This is a three-hundred dollar piece, not five-hundred. Trim that down and fill with the alstroemerias.”

  “But those look chintzy with the callas.”

  “Not if you do it right. And they’re far more affordable. If you fill in with other flowers, they look just as pretty.”

  I snapped my jaw shut and tugged out the blooms. I’d done a damn good job and it was well within the budget she’d listed. Fucking cheap ass.

  “I can hear what you’re thinking. You’re already on thin ice, young lady.”

  Oh, she couldn’t hear what I was thinking. And that was a good thing.

  Kathy swiped the lilies off my table and marched to the back to put them back in the cooler.

  The bell over the door jangled and I shut my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  Gage came in with a pair of to-go cups. “Bribing my favorite girl.”

  “I’m not your girl.” But I took the cup greedily. I was so blasted tired. I could literally curl up under my table and take a nap. Maybe I could sleepwalk my way through the shitty floral arrangement I had to do.

  Then again, I’d probably use up all the lilies. My sleeping self was smart enough to avoid boobytraps, I bet she had exquisite taste too.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Tell that to the three of my nine lives you murdered when you—”

  I slapped my hand over his mouth. “Can you not?”

  He nipped at my fingers. “I remember the last time you put your hand over my mouth. Oh, wait, it was me putting my hand over your mouth because you were screaming loud enough to bring security.”

  I stomped on his foot and peered around the corner for Kathy. “Are you trying to get me into trouble?”

  He grinned and lifted my wrist to his lips. He flicked his tongue over my pulse point before letting my hand free as Kathy came out, whistling.

  I fisted my hand and moved back to my work station.

  “Oh, Mr. Kramer. What are you doing back?”

  “Harassing my favorite florist.” He lifted his cup of coffee. “Just bringing her a pick-me-up.”

  “Is this why you were late, Rylee?”

  Because I’d slept through three alarms? Yeah, that probably wasn’t the answer I should give. “My brother-in-law just is being sweet.” I gave her a tight smile.

  “She’s doing a great job. Oh, and my mother loved your basket, Kathy. Thanks again.” He sipped from his cup.

  Slightly mollified, she gave him a bright smile. “Yes, well, I’m glad Melissa liked them. Did you have business with us? Another order, perhaps?”

  I looked down and stabbed a bit of baby’s breath in the basket of base greens I’d put together. I’d been here barely two weeks and Kathy’s cheap ways were starting to grate already. Great.

  “Maybe next time. They’re still fresh and gorgeous.”

  “Thanks for the coffee, Gage.”

  He glanced at me, frowning a little. “Sure. Do you want me to grab you something for lunch?”

  “She’s still making up her time,” Kathy answered for me.

  Gage turned and I knew he was going to tell her what happened. I did not want that out there. It was bad enough that people might have seen me faint, but I didn’t want this woman looking at me with pity.
She’d probably just squish me under her stupid stained Crocs with a sneer.

  “I’m fine, Gage. We’ll catch up later.”

  “No, it’s not fine. If you had seen her earlier, you wouldn’t be giving her crap. I wanted her to stay home and rest, but she was adamant about coming in to work.”

  “She looks fine. Maybe she was just tired because you two were out partying.”

  He took a step toward her. “We were not.”

  “You seem awfully involved for someone who is just her brother-in-law.”

  “Family takes care of each other.”

  I swallowed down the flood of warmth at his words. I had family. It wasn’t as if I was an orphan or unloved, but my parents weren’t exactly the type to get all up in someone’s business on my behalf.

  “Well, she seems fine. I think you’re exaggerating. Now, she has a lot of work to do.” Kathy crossed her arms, her face inscrutable.

  I grasped his upper arm. “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. Who acts like that about their employees?”

  “It’s really not that big a deal.” I tried to drag him back near the door, but he wasn’t moving.

  “This is the third time she’s been late.” Kathy sniffed.

  This time, he turned to me. “Has this happened before?”

  I knew what he was talking about, but Kathy did not. “Let it go.”

  He frowned down at me and reached out to touch my cheek.

  I backed up. Embarrassment flamed up my chest and neck. I hated being put on the spot like this, which was funny since I wasn’t exactly the type to downplay reactions to being cornered.

  But I needed this job. And while I might not have been wild about Kathy or her judgy, cheap ass ways, I would deal with it until I found something else.

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  I shook my head. Sleepwalking and insomnia weren’t exactly conditions I wanted to shout out to the world. I’d tried sleeping pills, but those lovely side effects they talked about in the commercial? Yeah, not even close to reality.

  They made me way worse.

  “Why would you need a doctor?” Kathy came forward.

  “I don’t need a freaking doctor. I just need everyone to leave me alone about it. I didn’t sleep well and overslept because I was…sick.”