Page 39 of Until Ireland

I narrowed my eyes. “Cobi, I—”

“I’m not saying it to be a dick, Ireland, but you’re going to want to have him by your side if anything should happen.” He was right. The pit in my stomach grew. I should’ve stayed with Mack.

“You’re right. I’ll call Mack,” I said, deflating in front of him.

Cobi squeezed my shoulder. “Well, we’ll look into everything with these other women, along with your brothers, and see if we can knock a few pieces loose to help figure out where your bike is.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to me. “This is my personal number and the office number. Call me if you can think of anything else.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You know, I really enjoyed meeting Hadley at the birthday party. Your wife is pretty cool.”

Cobi grinned. “She liked you too. Couldn’t stop talking about you. You’ve impressed our wives, Ireland. If you need friends right now, those ladies are it. We’re family after all.”

Family. I liked that idea. My brothers were great, but having women I could talk to when my brothers were more about busting heads than allowing me to vent was invaluable. Plus, since my mom died, I missed having another woman around. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer, but as you can see, I need to get to said shop because I have a vehicle to get my hands on.”

“Mack’s Aston Martin.” Cobi chuckled. “I think the guy’s balls are blue at the thought of you getting under her hood.”

“Well, I can’t say all this hasn’t dampened my excitement a little, but come on, a Bond car is at my garage and I get to tinker with it?” My heart was heavy about the loss of my bike, but I also didn’t want to dim the happiness of getting to work on a one-in-a-million vehicle.

“Take pictures and send them to Mack throughout the day. The man will be salivating before he gets a chance to see you again.” Cobi closed his notepad and shoved it into his pocket. “Hunter said he’d stick around and lock up when we were done with a thorough sweep of your property.”

I inclined my chin. “Thanks. I appreciate this. I hate we had to meet again under these circumstances.”

“We’ll meet under better ones soon. After all, Mack is part of the MC, and well, we’re all friends.”

Part of the Broken Eagles?

Shock filled me. Color me surprised for a second time today.Well then... Learn something new every day.Which also meant double the trouble if they found out about the auction house. I was in deep. Maybe too deep. Anxious energy filled me. If Mack found out the truth, would he hold me responsible for what happened to his friends?Stop it. Mack isn’t like that.Perhaps. I wouldn’t know for sure until I had answers.

After grabbing a travel mug of coffee, I got back in my Coupe and headed to the garage. I still had an hour to kill before the parts would arrive, so I figured I’d get the Aston Martin ready to go. The more I poured myself into work, the less I’d wallow after losing my bike. When I pulled up to the shop, I did a cursory look around the building to be sure no one had hit the shop too then went inside.

Everything was how we left it the day before. Nothing was out of place. I turned on the stereo and blasted some Avril Lavigne then rolled up the doors, announcing to everyone we were open for business. By the time I got to the Aston Martin, I was beginning to feel marginally better. I sent a quick text to Mack to let him know all was okay and I would explain later, then I took a picture of myself under the hood of his car.

The growled audio text I received in return lit a fire in my belly and a giggle of excitement filled my chest. Because the NTSB had different regulations for us and for foreign vehicles, all imported cars/trucks/off-road vehicles/motorcycles had to be reconfigured to pass US emissions tests. When I did my initial sweep of the car, I noticed that those safety standards and changes hadn’t been met or reconfigured. It led me to believe the person who sold it probably did so as soon as it was off the ship. They were easy fixes, of course. I wasn’t worried about it. They were more time consuming than anything else.

So, while I waited, I did what Cobi said. I took apart Mack’s car and sent him racy photos of me working hard under the hood. No reason for him to have to worry about what was going on in my life at the moment.

At eleven, an hour earlier than we thought the truck would arrive, it pulled into the parking lot. The driver backed up to the middle bay then got out. With everything we were going to need, we’d take up the entire open bay space. The driver raised the door on the back end before lowering the hydraulic lift. When he used the pallet jack to roll out three pallets of parts, I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. It was all covered in shrink wrap and in individual boxes, except for the transmission, which was in a crate on a pallet by itself.

“Thank you so much for this,” I said, signing off on the bill.

“Not a problem. It’s the first time I’ve ever brought a shop Aston Martin parts.” He grinned. “That’s like the rare card in a pack of commons.”

I understood the reference. “I get it.”

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know who owns that purple Mercury, would you?”

“Why do you ask?” I said, curious about his question.

“It’s a beautiful car. I wouldn’t mind having her for myself,” he replied. “Not very many of those around anymore.”

“She’s mine. I rebuilt her from the frame up. She’s also not for sale.”

At that moment, Landon pulled up in his pickup. He waved a sack of food out his driver side door as he parked. I hadn’t realized I was hungry until I saw the brown paper bag.

The man whistled. “I could get in trouble working here. I’d spend more time staring at the antiques instead of fixing them.”

I laughed, handing him back the clipboard. “They’re things of beauty. I can’t hold your admiration against you.”

“Damn right they are,” he stated. “Have fun on your project.” He exited the shop as Landon stepped inside.

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