Page 53 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

A key. Brass. Ornate edges.

A little worn.

I glanced at him. “Okay. And?”

“Recognize it?”

I picked it up, turning it over. “Should I?”

“It’s from Page Turners.”

That got my attention. I looked up. “You sure?”

“Aurora's sure.” His tone was sharp. “Said it's the same kind her uncle has in the basement.”

I frowned. “Where’d you find it?”

“Here. In the shop.”

I let out a slow breath. “You have no idea how it got here?”

Mason’s jaw tightened. “No, Owen. I don’t.”

Shit.

I set the key down. “Ethan?”

“I'll ask him, but I doubt it.” Mason ran a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t make sense. Why the hell would we have a key toherplace?”

Good question.

I’d never set foot in Page Turners before Aurora came back. Neither had Mason, far as I knew.

Which meant either Ethan had some explaining to do…

Or we had a bigger problem.

I exhaled. “Adding this to the growing list of weird shit happening around here.”

Mason grunted. “No kidding.”

I rolled the key between my fingers. Something about this feltoff.

Mason crossed his arms. “We need to ask Ethan.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s…”

The shop door swung open, and Hank Lawson stepped inside, all smug confidence and fake charm. He wore a tailored jacket, too nice for a place like this, and smelled like expensive cologne.

Mason stiffened.

I clenched my jaw.

Hank fucking Lawson.

“Afternoon, boys.” His voice had that oily smoothness that made my skin crawl. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

Mason didn’t move. “What do you want?”

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