Her eyes went wide. “Shit. Did he see us?”
Now he needed to lie. “No. Said he was doin’ rounds.”
“Rounds?”
“Yeah, said Judge has the prospects now doin’ rounds to keep an eye out.”
“For what?”
Rev shrugged. “Shirleys? Someone breakin’ into the repo yard? Feds? Sasquatch? Probably anythin’ out of the ordinary.”
“Like someone on the ‘do not touch’ list getting bent over a car and fucked by someone who is supposed to be respecting that list. Do you think he saw me naked?”
“Doubt it. My bare ass was coverin’ yours. Unless he knows your cage, he wouldn’t even suspect it was you.”
She blew out a soft breath. “I hope not. Like I said, I’ll work on Reese.”
In the meantime, he’d make a plan to skip all of that and go directly to the source to plead his case. But for now, she could work on her sister until he could try his method. Her sister relenting would be the easy solution, him busting in on an exec meeting to confess to breaking a rule would be the more difficult and dangerous one.
He reached behind her and opened the driver’s door for her. She pushed off the rear of the car where she’d been leaning and before she could climb in, he stopped her. “Reilly…”
She hesitated and glanced over her shoulder.
“Wasn’t a mistake.”
“What wasn’t? The sex we just had?”
No, not the sex. The other thing. The words he’d said to her. The words she thought he said because he was drunk.
“All of it,” was how he answered.
She nodded, got into the Kona, started the engine and shifted into Reverse. Before she removed her foot from the brake, she powered down the window and poked out her head. “Hey, Rev.”
He lifted his head since he was busy buckling his belt. He hadn’t finished doing that in his rush to get dressed.
“In case you want to know… I feel the same.”
Then she drove away.
Rev swung the ring of keys around his index finger as he strode through the parking lot of Dutch’s Garage and stepped through the open bay door. The truck’s test drive proved he repaired the problem the customer had complained about. Now he needed to drop the keys off in the office and help Reilly write up the invoice so she could call the customer and Dutch could get paid.
One more job down for the day. He had a state inspection on another vehicle to do yet, as well as an oil change, then he’d be caught up with the job orders on his clipboard.
As he had approached the garage, he noticed two older sleds—one formerly owned by Dutch—parked out front. When he headed toward the office, he heard male voices inside along with Reilly’s.
He paused just outside the office door, and out of sight, so he could listen for a few.
Castle and Bones.
He’d been relieved when he heard they’d be the prospects to work with Reilly on the new business and not Scar. At least, he wasn’t involved yet.
Reilly was sitting at her desk discussing the business plan she had written up and going over the training the two prospects would need once they both obtained their commercial driver’s licenses.
That was the first step. If they couldn’t pass their CDL tests, then they wouldn’t be able to help her by delivering and setting up the emergency housing wherever and whenever it was needed.
A couple of weeks ago, Rev had read over her business plan. He’d been impressed with how detailed and extensive it was, proving that she was smart as fuck and Trip had made the right decision to drop the new business into her lap.
Her being intelligent wasn’t a surprise since her sister Reese was wicked smart, too. Their parents might have sucked at actual parenting, but they’d given the women something worthwhile. Their smart genes.
Reese had filed all the paperwork required for the new business and two mobile homes the club financed were being delivered out to the farm in the next week.
Trip had the Amish come in, level the ground and spread stone to create a lot in a corner of one of the far fields to park the trailers until they were rented. He hoped to eventually fence it in to keep the empty trailers safe, but until they knew how many they’d end up with, he didn’t want to spend the money and have to turn around later and move or expand the fence line.
Yeah, Trip had a good head on his fucking shoulders when he wasn’t losing his damn temper. He’d also left the naming of the business up to Reilly. She decided to name it Shelter from the Storm after the Bob Dylan song, since it fit. The housing could be used after storm damage, fire, flooding, hurricane or a Godzilla attack. Or even to house a family while building a new home or renovating an old one. The prospects would drop it off on the property, set it up and go. Then the money would begin to flow.