“I just…” coward, I berated myself in my head, “I just wasted a perfectly good coffee!”
Harley blinked, suddenly chuckling and shaking his head.
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, but we’ve had this discussion. You know that stuff’s an abomination.”
“All clean out here, but what the fuck was that stuff? It smelled like crap.” Harley stepped back as his friend interrupted us again, and he gestured to me to step back out of the bathroom, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the large open area of the shop let the air back into my lungs properly. Small spaces were definitely not my friend.
“For your information, that’s perfectly good coffee,” I said, lifting my chin and offering the new guy a sassy glare.
He held both hands up, backing away from us.
“My bad. Not my place to besmirch your shady coffee choices.”
Harley stepped between us, and nudged him out of my way. “Can you go and measure up your space over there, while I sort Jeff’s account out, and help Caroline?”
“Caroline, huh? I’m Rocket. I’m not a cock, I swear.”
Harley rolled his eyes and forcibly shoved him away from us.
“Let’s get you guys sorted, before he offends everyone.”
Chapter Three
IT SHOULDN’T BE BUGGING me that he spoke to her, should it? She wasn’t mine. She wasn’t anyone’s, but Rocket was a predatory fucker, at least from what I’d heard, so maybe it was just the protector in me, stepping up to defend a woman who I’d witnessed showing nerves around big guys like him. Still, she fucking kissed me, didn’t she? Didn’t that mean she was at least less his than she could be mine? I forced myself not to dwell on it, because she’d been mortified after, and I didn’t like seeing her that way.
After Jeff headed off, I stepped outside with Caroline, and crouched beside her SV, to take a look at her brake lines, callipers, and discs. Nothing looked untoward, so I held my hand out for her key, and started her up.
“Gonna pop around the estate on her. Let’s see what she’s doing. Is it happening at speed, or coasting?”
She bit her lip, looking adorably young and sweet. “Uh… both, I think? I don’t know. It’s not every time. Sometimes they’re fine.”
Hmmm. Intermittent problems were tricky fuckers, but my mind was already working its way through possibilities and solutions, as I donned my helmet, and pulled away. It bothered me a little, leaving her there while Rocket was still around, but I’d just invited the fucker to be around more, so I could hardly quibble now.
I tested the brakes while I was going slow, finding them normal, so I took the road out of the estate, and down into the disused lot behind it, pushing her a little faster, so I could see what was happening.
Technically you wouldn’t want to be using your brakes that much at high speeds, because that’s what gears were for and letting off the gas, but I put us both through the paces, and I couldn’t find a damn thing wrong.
I headed back into the industrial estate, and into my parking lot, realising instantly that Caroline wasn’t waiting there for me. Where the fuck did she go?
I parked up as close as I could, wrenching my helmet off as I strode into my shop like… like what? Like I had a right to know where she was?
The first thing I heard was laughter, and saw her helping Rocket move some boxes off the shelves we were going to move.
“What’s… hey, you don’t need to help with that,” I said, shooting a glare at Rocket, as I lifted the small box out of Caroline’s hands and set it down.
“It’s okay, I was… did you find anything?” Find anything where? I found a fucking biker brother with… with who? My woman? Give me a break. Somehow an asshole had taken up residence inside me, because that wasn’t my way.
“She’s performing as she should. Now I’m happy to take them off, dust them up, replace the pads, and see if that improves anything, but honestly I think I’d be wasting your money.”
“Someone needs to give him a lesson in how to run a business, am I right? You take the money,” Rocket murmured, and I clenched my fists.
“My business isn’t fleecing people, Rocket, so if that’s howyouroll, this isn’t gonna work.”
“Jeez,” he murmured, while Caroline frowned at me, pushing her short dark hair back and stepping away from Rocket. Why did that feel better already?
“Tell you what… I can pop off the pads and see how they’re looking. It might tell us if you’re riding the brakes a bit or something.”
“Probably those tiny little hands struggling to squeeze ’em tight enough,” Rocket murmured, and I tossed one of my brochures at him.
