Page 24 of Two Tricks

“Fuck that. The daylight only showed up an hour ago, it can give me a minute,” Dax grumbled as she pulled out the pair of socks I had stuffed in one boot.

Muttering to herself, she pulled on both boots but could only lace one up halfway because of the ankle tracker. Finished, she clomped her way over to me and stopped with her hands on her hips, eyes bright with irritation. “Well, let’s get on with it.”

Today was going to be a fun day.

“Hell no, I am not sitting on this stool and watching you work all morning,” I grumbled when Sprocket presented me with my perch. “I’ll have you know that I’m very mechanical.”

Sprocket leaned against his workbench with his arms crossed, watching me with those intelligent green eyes. I’d met a lot of people in my line of work, and it was the ones with eyes like his that scared me the most. They seemed to be able to look into your soul and make you spill all your secrets.

Not this girl—I had too much at stake to let a handsome face with hands that could do the Lord’s work get anything out of me.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Why don’t we start you out with being my tool runner and go from there,” Sprocket said, pushing off from the bench and gesturing to the rows of tool drawers behind him. “Feel free to look through them and familiarize yourself with where things are.”

Rolling my eyes, I pulled open the closest drawer and saw it filled with sockets of all sizes, along with various wrench handles in different lengths. I had to admit as I worked my way through the bench that he had an amazing collection of high-end equipment. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw him standing at the hydraulic worktable with the motorcycle he was working on, unboxing parts.

“One might think that with so many tools you might be compensating for something.” I smirked as I looked at the drawer with the impact wrenches in it, hefting one up for show.

Sprocket set down the box and gave me a disapproving look. “Now Dax, I’m pretty sure you know that’s not true. You know exactly what I’m working with—or did my cock rubbing on your pert little ass slip your mind?”

The shock of hearing him talk so bluntly caught me off guard. I could not seem to get a read on this guy. One minute he was sweet and soft-spoken, then he pulled shit like this. As he held my gaze, he walked over to me and pulled me flush against his chest, making sure to pin my pelvis to his. In this position, there was no way that I could miss the size of the equipment he was packing in his jeans.

“In case you needed a reminder,” Sprocket said, nipping at my earlobe before releasing me. “Now, if you could grab me a half-inch socket wrench, that would be lovely.”

Gulping as he turned back to the bike, I shook myself out of my lust-filled stupor and grabbed what he asked for.

After that incident, I decided that he was too dangerous to tease casually, so I kept silent as I observed the comings and goings of the shop. There were four other men that worked there, but none of them really interacted with us. They seemed content to shit-talk each other and leave Sprocket to his work. Outside the garage, I saw women chatting as they headed off in cars, presumably to do shopping or whatever else off the compound lands. Other members came and went on bikes or headed into the clubhouse.

What surprised me the most was that everyone seemed very content to be here. The women looked happy, and none of them seemed worried about the rough-looking men hanging around. I didn’t see said men getting sloppy drunk by noon and harassing the women or causing fights like I’d always imagined. For the most part, this seemed like any other cul-de-sac with people who actually liked spending time with their neighbors.

“What do you say about taking a lunch break?” Sprocket said, pulling me out of my musings.

Glancing up at the clock, I was shocked to see that it was indeed noon. “Sure, I’m always up for food.”

Sprocket grinned at that. “I’ll bet you are. Word on the street is that food is your weakness.”

“There is nothing wrong with liking to eat. Try growing up unsure if you’re going to get one meal, let alone three, in a day,” I growled, frowning at him.

“Hmm, so I’m guessing you didn’t have the ‘white picket fence’ childhood,” he said as he wiped off his hands on a rag.

I stiffened, not really wanting to delve into my childhood. No one but Wes knew my whole story, and that suited me just fine. “Let’s go with ‘I never had a chance to wear rose-colored glasses.’”

Sprocket watched me for a moment before turning to head out of the garage, apparently assuming I was going to follow him. Groaning, I stomped a foot and headed after him back to the house.

“Make sure you take your boots off or Eagle will beat your ass, and not in a fun way,” Sprocket warned.

“God, if he and Wes ever meet, I think they might be best friends. Or kill each other,” I muttered, kicking off my boots and letting them fall where they will. “Wes can’t stand a messy house either—that’s why I have my own floor, so I can be as messy as I please.”

“Wes… you mean your business partner Weston?” Sprocket asked as he pulled out what looked like items to make a sandwich from the fridge.

“Figured you guys would have known about him if you’re any good at your research,” I said, hopping up on a stool.

Sprocket paused in making his food to look up with me mischief in his eyes. “We found you, didn’t we? I would say that alone speaks for our skills.”

“It was only a matter of time until someone gave me up if you paid enough or threatened them the right way. The downside of my job is you can’t trust anyone to watch your back,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“Yet you trust Weston.” It was more a statement than a question.

“Hmm, well, he is different,” I said. “Weston is my family. He and I have been through hell and back. Much like I would guess you and the other four guys.”