Page 17 of Ace of Spades

Julian rolls his eyes at my sarcasm and reaches for my shoulder.

"You'll call if you need me?"

I nod and he squeezes my shoulder before motioning to Theo to head out.

Theo hesitates, his pirate look making him look the part of the rebellious son.

"Nice meeting you, Theo," I say.

"You too." That's all Theo says before he turns and follows Julian out, throwing me one final glance before disappearing out of the garage.

The shop is now officially empty and I'm not sure where Levi went.

But for the first time tonight I'm able to take in the fact that I'm standing right in the middle of what used to be the set of my favorite reality show growing up.

I don’t need a tour to know that just outside there’s a bay where they do their paint jobs.

Or that there’s a room full of all kinds of leather and metal that they use to fabricate their own parts.

The crew isn’t the same as the one on the show. And Levi Steele is nothing like I imagined he would be in person.

For starters, he's got salt and pepper hair now.

Not that I mind it, it just adds to the man's obvious sex appeal in a way that shouldn't be legal. The ink that swirls around those forearms of his tell the story of man whose lived quite a life.

I’ve always had a thing for tatted up bad boys.

I fluff the garbage bag full of air before bending down to pick up some cans littered around some custom bikes on display near the entrance.

The workmanship is incredible. Every detail executed with such care and precision. It's no wonder this place received the kind of accolades it has over the years.

Levi's work is nothing short of spectacular.

"Hey, curious cat. Can't you read?" The voice that can only belong to the owner of this establishment makes my hand freeze midway to caressing a custom gas tank in the shape of a flame.

It’s a work of art.

I instantly drop my hand and turn to him. Once again, Levi Steele has his arms crossed as he watches me, leaning against one of the work tables nearby.

My heart drops at the sight of him. Any woman in her right mind would feel the same way I do watching as the man's coiled muscles flex effortlessly.

He pushes off the table and stalks over to me, reaching for the bag in my hand saying lowly, "No touching."

I involuntarily gulp.

Does he mean him? Or the…

Levi motions to the sign just above the bike.

You touch. You pay.

Followed by an elaborate sketch of a hand being chopped off.

Jesus.

"Not much for subtlety, are you?" I mutter.

"I think getting straight to the point saves everyone a lot of trouble."

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