“You did good,” I murmured. “It’s exactly right.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I hesitated, then tapped her nose playfully. “Thank you.”

She sighed, appraising me nervously. “Okay. One down.”

I frowned. “One? What the hell else have you done?”

“Don’t start with the growling, Maxx Reynolds.”

“Then answer me, woman. What else have you changed in the house?”

“Nothing,” she replied, her gaze skittering over my shoulder then back to my face.

I turned and peered out the window in the direction she had focused on.

“What have you done to the garage?” I snapped, thinking of the last surprise that had awaited me in the garage. It hadn’t been the least bit pleasant. Without waiting for an answer, I spun on my heel and stalked outside, heading for the building. Charly followed, grabbing at my arm. I shook her off, glaring at her when she rushed in front of me, blocking the door.

“You have to keep an open mind, Maxx. Promise.”

I was particular with the garage. I had it set up exactly the way I liked it, and the thought of her messing with that made me angry.

“Out of the way, Charly.” I scowled.

“Please,” she begged. “We all worked on it so hard.”

“We?” I asked, confused.

“Me, Brett, Mary, and a couple of your customers.”

My customers?

I huffed out a long breath, knowing if Mary was involved, she would never allow anyone to do something to the garage I would hate.

At least, I didn’t think she would.

“Just open the damn door, Charly.”

She twisted the handle and stepped in, never turning her back to me. She flicked on the light and stood back, letting me follow her.

At first glance, everything seemed to be normal. The bays in order, the tools in the right spots. Then I saw it. The walls had all been painted a fresh coat of beige. The long wall by the office was a deep, rich red. It was covered with pictures. I walked closer, narrowing my eyes as I took them in. The entire history of the garage was on that wall. Pictures of my dad working in the shop, repairing lawnmowers, bikes, and cars. Me beside him, growing up over time. All three of us standing by the sign at the end of the driveway, my dad’s arm thrown over my mom’s shoulder. Images of my mom in the office. There were photos of the various bikes I had restored, ones I’d worked on with my dad.

It was a wall of memories.

The next thing that caught my eye was the old sign that used to hang at the end of the driveway. It had been cleaned up and hung in one corner, a tribute to the old days. In the opposite corner was a later sign, still outdated, but part of the history of the place.

It was the center sign that made me frown. I moved forward, studying it.

The old signage had been a tire and the name. Reynolds Restorations. Simple.

This one was bold. Black. The image of a muscled arm gripping a wrench in the middle.

Reynolds Restorations and Repairs

Hard as Steel.

Performance Guaranteed.

Hard as steel?

I turned my head. “What the hell?”

“A new look.”

Before I could reply, she held up her hands. “Open mind, Maxx. We can discuss it later once you hear all my ideas.”

I exhaled hard. “Fine.”

Charly flicked on the light in the unused waiting room, and I went inside. The old metal and vinyl seats had been recovered and polished. The walls painted. There were more pictures. Old tools that were no longer usable, but my dad had never tossed out, had been shined and hung intermittently. Some of the old license plates my dad collected were hung between them. There was a water cooler in the corner.

I shook my head, unable to take it all in. I returned to the garage, looking closer at everything. The pictures. Discarded items that Charly had made important again and hung as a tribute to the past all around the garage, but in places where they were out of the way so as not to interfere with the purpose of the building. One of the old garage shirts, a set of overalls. More tools and a few spare parts. It made the garage eclectic and…fun. It gave it a look and feel that was somehow what I had been looking for and unable to find.

And it had been done by a slip of a girl. A sassy, mouthy redhead I loved to give a hard time. Who somehow reached into my mind and figured out what I would like and made sure it happened.

I prowled around, exploring, seeing it all with new eyes. Finally, I stopped in front of Charly. She was anxious, paler than I had ever seen her, the freckles on her skin standing out in sharp contrast to the white of her skin. Her hands were clenched in fists by her sides. I had never known her to be so silent for so long. I could tell how much this meant to her, how desperately she wanted my approval.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Reynold's Restorations Suspense
Source: readsnovelonline.net