“Earl’s Place. I get off here at six and can meet you there at six thirty.”
“Restaurant?”
Jace gave her one of his familiar, long, cool looks. “Bar. Beer and pretzels.”
On his limited salary, probably more to his taste. “Fine. I don’t have your cell. I deleted you from my contacts.”
No emotion on his face. Jace rattled off a phone number, which she entered into her contacts, then she shot him off a brief message.
Tonight, Earl’s Place. 6:30. Meet me.
Kara turned to Dylan. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” The teenager shook his head. “Nice bike. How much, Jace?”
“It’s been sold.” Jace’s gaze never left her. “Bikes like that are a lot of money, kid.”
“Come on, Dylan. I’ll drop you off. I can pick you up tomorrow and give you a ride here when your bike is ready.”
“No need. I’ll have one of the guys drop me off when Jace tells me the bike is finished.”
Kara put a hand on his too-thin shoulder. “If you’re sure, Dylan. But I wish you’d let me help you.”
He shrugged off her hand. “I’m fine. Let’s go. I know you have a lot of work.”
Giving Jace another glance, seeing the indifference on his handsome face turn to worry, only raised more questions in her mind.
What was Jace involved with and how low had he sunk?
Jace threw down the towel, cussing up a blue streak. Kara, again! She looked as classy as ever in her yellow sleeveless dress—designer, of course—and those black high heels. Long blond hair bound in a twist at the back. Elegant. She stood out in the dirty garage like a snowflake on a coal heap.
He’d fought every impulse to escort her out of the garage and tell her to get lost and never come back. What if one of the guys had seen her?
She needed to stay out of his life for good. But now, she was around Dylan. And she wanted to meet up with Jace tonight. About what?
The old feelings were still there for him. He hoped like hell Kara didn’t want to rekindle their relationship. He’d asked her to marry him, slid a ring onto her finger with a one-carat diamond and a week later, they were finished.
They’d moved on. Why did she have to return to his life now, of all times? He needed to get rid of her.
Kara and Dylan. Bad combination. Did she realize the kid was into stealing from jewelry stores? Did she know he courted trouble and stood on the verge of arrest?
He focused on fixing the motorcycle he needed to repair before tomorrow. The smells of grease and oil lingered in the air, along with the delicate trace of Kara’s perfume. Something light and floral. Not heavy. He remembered breathing it in as he’d nuzzled her neck with long, sweeping kisses that made her tremble in his arms...
His hand slipped on the wrench and he cursed another blue streak.
For an hour, he worked steadily on the bike until something made him glance up.
Big Mike stood at the garage entrance, silhouetted by the bright sunlight outside.
Not a social call, either. Jace could tell. Mike seldom visited the garage except when his own bike needed repairs.
This wasn’t good. The garage floor seemed to quake beneath the tread of Big Mike’s boots as the barrel-chested biker strode forward. He wasn’t happy. And not about the condition of the bike Jace was working on right now.
Jace set down the socket wrench, trying to ignore the little hairs on his arms and the back of his neck saluting the air. Mike stood six feet, four inches tall and outweighed Jace by at least one hundred pounds.
He can turn me into dog food. Show no fear.
Too much had been invested in this assignment. He was closer to nailing the guy at the top of the food chain. Couldn’t blow it now.
“What’s up, big dog?” he asked Mike.
The man scowled. “I saw you talking with Diesel earlier. He just got released. How the hell do you know him?”
A bead of sweat trickled down Jace’s back, nudged itself into the waistband of his jeans. He shrugged. “Fellow biker, just chatting. Guy told me he was imprisoned. He wanted to know a cheap place to rent.”
Not a lie, but not the full truth, either.
My own father didn’t know me. Thank You, sweet Lord.
At Big Mike’s silence, he broke his own rule to never offer more information than necessary. The biker’s scowl hadn’t lessened.
“Diesel told me he used to go on runs with the DP. I think he was looking for work. He told me his name was Al and the garage was named after him. You think I should avoid the guy?”
He made his voice flattering and subservient, eager as a puppy wanting to please his owner for treats. Here’s a good boy.
Big Mike’s expression didn’t change. “Stay away from Diesel.”
Jace saluted him with the wrench. “No problem.”
