Page 110 of Detour

They’re worth it. And so am I.

* * *

Watching her leave fills me with sadness where only anger used to reside full time. Beckett and Marc wait until she’s gone then follow soon after, calling out their typical “ride it” mantra.

Alone, Coty pulls out my helmet with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“I have my Jeep.”

“I’ll bring you back to get it tomorrow. Ride home with me tonight?”

Leaning in, I kiss his closed mouth chastely, grabbing my helmet from him. “Okay, but you have to help me clean first.”

Together we make quick work cleaning the kiosk before locking up.

Already on his R6, Coty helps me up, too. As per usual, he pulls my thighs in closer, setting my entire front against his back, then I place my hands on the tank in front of his seat. As he starts the engine though, I bring my hands up to wrap around his middle. Coty hesitates, allowing me time to replace them to my preferred position before taking off but I squeeze, letting him know I’m ready. His head snaps to the side, his questioning eyes finding mine, so I nod reassuringly.

I trust you.

Without breaking eye contact, he leans in resting his helmet against mine while his hand squeezes my thigh—his grip as sure and steady as his hold on the part of my heart he now owns.

With a bright smile and a shake of his head, Coty pulls onto the street, leaving any previous doubt behind. Picking up speed, we race forward exactly how we’re supposed to—together and with no regrets.

EPILOGUE

Coty

One Year Later

“Where are we going? I thought you were taking me to lunch.”

I lift Angela’s hand to my mouth, placing a kiss in her palm before dropping it back to the clutch to shift into fourth.

“I am. Kind of.” Her eyes grow wide, making me laugh. “You’ll be fed, don’t worry. I have something I want to show you first.”

My sweaty hand grips the steering wheel tighter. This could go either way. With Angela, I never really know. She surprises me at every turn, which normally I love the constant mystery our neighbor girl provides, but today I really need things to go my way. It was hard enough stealing her away from the shop. With the summer weather rolling in even earlier this year, her wash has been insane. After months of overseeing every detail of the build, and high praise from her professor, she finally accepted our offer to run the car wash portion of Pop The Hood Garage. Oh, and let’s not forget the thorough contract negotiations. We put up a good effort, but she had us all along, since day one to be exact. She still doesn’t know that.

We opened our automotive high-performance doors five months ago and have been booked solid ever since. Landing Joaquin as our major client set us off to a great start, but we had no idea just how crazy things would get. I’ve been tested in ways I never was at the old place. New problems pop up daily for me to solve, always keeping me on my toes. We now service ATVs, UTVs, dirt bikes, sports cars, farm trucks, and everything in between. Basically, we fix things that go, hell, even some things that don’t. I’m pretty sure Beck repaired some lady’s musical jewelry box last week on one of his rare breaks.

Not even a full year in and we’re already talking about expanding. Through it all, Angela’s kept her cool over on the wash side. She runs it efficiently and fairly, always happy to please customers. So much so, I swear some of the farmhands come in more often than needed just to see her. Having her so close though—and with three, if not more, sets of eyes on her—I don’t have to worry like I did before. Nobody can even sneeze in her direction now without someone running to check on her. Okay, it’s usually me, but Beck and Marc are always waiting in the wings, ready to step in, too. At first, she worried it would interfere with productivity—us constantly looking after her—but she soon realized it was pointless to argue. Family comes first, always. It’d be the same whether she worked with us or somewhere else, but having her so close does make things easier for everyone.

On the occasional rainy day, she’ll come over to the bays to help out where needed. Angela’s the hardest worker there, and in a shop full of star mechanics, that’s saying something. I love being able to see her every day, even if for a short break here and there. I’ve tried to lure her into my office with the promise of a quickie but she rebuffs me every time with some new task she’s taken on. She’s always thinking of ways to improve both sides of the business and has proven to be the best damn decision we’ve made in this crazy venture. She’s also hell bent on keeping up professional appearances which just means I’ll need to take her there when everybody’s gone sometime.

The thought of her on my desk has me adjusting in my seat. Angela shoots her gaze to me, seeing my discomfort. The triumphant smirk she’s wearing tells me she knows what’s causing it.

“Are you stealing me away just to have sex? Don’t you get enough at home?”

Home. Such a simple word, yet holds so much weight. We still spend time at both apartments but most nights are spent at hers for privacy. I also put an end to her open windows rule. The truth is I don’t mind sleeping in Angela’s sauna of an apartment, I never did. I’d sleep on an active volcano if it meant being close to her, but I give her shit about it because I like the way her eyebrows crease when she thinks she’s at a disadvantage. It’s the only warning she gives before she strikes back and I love the bite to her passion, especially when I’m the reason for it. But with her new salary, I know damn well she can afford to run the air conditioning at night, which is why I pay the bill anyway—she wouldn’t let me otherwise. A small price to pay, in my mind, to ensure the whole complex isn’t listening to my girl scream my name every night. Not that there’s anything wrong with them knowing who’s in her bed—I love that part—but I know my boys giving her a hard time about it embarrasses her. I like her wild and loud, so it was an easy decision to shut the damn windows. Getting her to agree to it, while not easy, definitely added to the fun. I smile remembering how inventive I had to get with my persuasion.

“It’s not to have sex,” I assure her. “Although, I like where your head’s at.” I wink, knowing it drives her crazy.

While clenching her thighs—I knew I had her—she groans, “I don’t even have time to eat lunch right now, let alone go out, so unless you plan on feeding me while fucking me, it’s not happening.”

Damn, she’s hangry. And I’m betting a little horny now, too. This is not off to a good start. I reach behind her seat, pulling out the bag full of tacos I ordered ahead of time. With extra limes. I know better than to offer my girl anything less than a five to one ratio of limes to tacos. Her face lights up when she sees the food and wastes no time grabbing one.

I’m almost to our destination when sucking noises have my eyebrows jumping. Glancing over, I see Angela lick the juice off her fingers, probably all that damn lime juice, giving me an idea of how to satisfy her other craving.

“Unbutton your pants.”