Page 33 of Wrecked
When she knocked on the apartment door, Alex answered. She was wearing one of Deacon’s shirts, the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of cutoffs. She was glowing.
Grinning, she grabbed Piper’s hand and dragged her in. “Finally. Rusty and I are starving. Come on, we’re out on the balcony.”
Piper walked through the living room and smiled to herself. Her friend had made her mark on her brother’s once minimalist, impersonal apartment. Bright picture frames lined the big marble mantle above the fireplace, filled with pictures of all of them, as well as several beautiful shots of the wedding and honeymoon. Car magazines were stacked on the coffee table. The leather couch and chairs were adorned with big purple throw pillows, and there was now a gorgeous area rug on the floor.
“The place looks great,” Piper said as they walked out onto the balcony.
Alex snorted. “Mausoleums aren’t really my style. I got sick of hearing my own echo every time I spoke.”
Rusty, with a mouthful of custard Danish, smiled and waved her to the seat beside her. Taking a slug of coffee, she swallowed. “Sorry, couldn’t wait another second. My stomach started eating itself.”
Her sister had the metabolism of a racehorse and could eat whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and never get fat. Unfortunately, Piper hadn’t taken after their father’s side of the family. She was the odd one out with her shorter, rounder body. One look at a cream bun and her ass knew all about it.
Piper grabbed one anyway. She’d burned more than a few calories during the night, right? One wouldn’t hurt. An image of Cole, the way he’d looked at her when he’d walked into her bathroom, pinning her to the counter, moved through her mind. God, the man was beautiful. The scars he’d been left with from his accident did nothing to detract from how magnificent he was. Not. At. All.
Rusty licked her fingers. “Did that carburetor come in for the Dodge yet, Pipe?”
Piper took a sip of the coffee Alex had put in front of her and decided to throw herself out on a limb. “Yep. Just after you left Friday.” She sat back, eyes on her sister. “I can get started on it this afternoon if you like? I’ve got nothing better to do. May as well put in some overtime.”
Rusty grabbed a Danish and put it on her plate, then shook her head. “Nah, I’ll do it Monday. Thanks, though.”
Brushing the crumbs off her shirt, Alex turned to her. “Sunday’s not for work, Pipe. Chill out, read one of your romance books.”
Read one of your romance books.
Ouch.
She’d love to believe their refusal had nothing to do with doubting her skill when it came to classic cars, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. She knew just as much as they did, she just hadn’t had the opportunity to flex her restoration muscles in the last few months stuck in that blasted office. “Right.”
Rusty nodded. “You’ve got a busy afternoon booked for Monday, take a day to relax. There’s a tune-up on the Nissan, and an oil change after that, and that Toyota’s coming in. Owner said it’s making a knocking sound.”
Fun.
All jobs she could do blindfolded. Zero challenge. Boring as hell. “You’re right. I think I’ll do some reading later.”
She should tell them how she felt, lay it all out, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Couldn’t bear to hear them admit they didn’t think she could handle the restoration jobs.
No. Her only option was to show them. To make the Chevy purr, then roll it out and surprise them.
She lifted her bun, and it was halfway to her mouth when Alex jabbed her with her pointy elbow. Piper turned to her. “What? I can’t have a cream bun?”
“What the hell is that?”
Piper frowned. “What?”
Alex turned to Rusty. “Have you had a good look at your sister?”
Piper froze. Oh shit. They were onto her. But how? She hadn’t done anything, had she? “What are you talking about?”
Rusty stopped shoveling food in her mouth, which definitely meant something was way wrong, and stared at her across the table, head tilted to the side like a bird of prey sizing up a mouse before it struck. “Jesus,” her sister muttered.
“What’s wrong?” she said louder, a little hysterically.
Alex wiped her hands on her napkin and sat back. “Your face is what’s wrong.” She shook her head. “You better lose the I’ve-recently-had-my-brains-fucked-out expression before Deacon gets home, or he’ll blow a gasket.”
Piper felt heat climb up her neck. “I do not. I look nothing like that.” It wasn’t possible. Because technically, they hadn’t…fucked. Granted, they’d done everything but, but still. She was admitting to nothing.
“No?” Rusty said from beside her, leaning closer.
