Defying Fate (4 page)

The way, he's looking at me, is seriously making it hard to breathe. “Um, okay. I’ll see you then.”

“You most definitely will, Izzy. By the way, love the name. It suits you. Your name just rolls off the tip of my tongue.” He winks and smirks with that damn sexy look. Oh, Sweet Jesus.

“Smooth aren’t you?” Then it dawns on me. “Wait. What is your name?”

Leaning into me with his shoulder bumping mine, he raises that sexy eyebrow. “Oh darlin’ asking for my name so soon?”

Breathe Izzy slowly. “If I am going to work for you, I think I need a name to call you by.”

“You can call me whatever you like.” His eyes jet wide, then he says, “Braxton Ryles, but you can call me Brax. All my friends do.”

Oh, of course, makes sense. Braxton Ryles of Ryles Custom Shop. Duh!

“Brax. I like it.” I let his name sink into my brain. Like I could forget it; his name, his body, and even his manly smell are forever ingrained in my mind.

“Oh, I know how much you will.” His grin is full of the devil. Wait. What the hell is he talking about now?

“See ya Monday, pretty lady.” He says as he starts to stroll down the walkway toward his bike.

Pretty lady. Wow, now that makes me laugh. I’ve never thought of myself as much of a lady. He keeps surprising me so much I am out of my element. “You know I’m not sure what I am getting myself into with you, big guy.”

“Well, you got one thing right.” He says, swinging his leg over the beast of a machine.

“What’s that?”

“I am a big guy.” Yep, there he goes and blows my mind yet again.

Dazzling me with that megawatt smile of his it’s his wink is my undoing. I swear my heart skips a few beats before sweat beads my forehead. This guy is driving me crazy!

“Monday Izzy, I am looking forward to it.” He tells me putting on his navigator sunglasses and bringing his bike to roaring life.

It is impossible not to gawk at him as he pulls away. I’m sure I look like a total idiot. What the hell ever. Braxton is like a tornado ready to knock me on my ass. He just blew into my life, and I feel like he has somehow changed it forever. What’s it going to be like to work for this smooth-talking, sexy-as-hell, badass biker?

Seriously Izzy, you might have hit the hot guy lottery.

MONDAY CAME FAST
and here I am sitting in my car outside Ryles Custom Shop. It is an impressive building with five bay doors and plenty of parking. Big bay windows house a pleasant, open reception area, and I can see the big desk in the front where I assume I will be sitting answering phone calls and helping customers with god knows what. I know nothing about bikes or cars.

This is such a bad idea.

First of all, I know zero, zilch, and definitely nada about bikes or cars. Secondly, I am going to be around Braxton all the time. Holy shit tacos, he is going to be my boss. I slam my head against my steering wheel, trying to convince myself that working here this is a good idea. I know my libido is going to be running overtime. I just hope I can keep up.

Oh, who am I kidding? My inexperience and hormones are going to be my undoing, and I’m going to make a mess of things. Why the hell did I think I could do this? My head already hurts. I rub it with my fingers to try and pry the stress away, but it’s not helping. I don’t need one of my major migraines on my first day on the job. It will be a miracle if I make it one week, let alone one day for that matter.

I should probably get out of my car and get inside. No need to be late too. I hope I don’t embarrass myself. I get so tongue-tied when I even think about Brax, let alone having to work beside him all day. Ooh, tongue-tied. The delicious image that brings to mind is just… Oh shit! There goes my libido again.

Braxton is most likely going to have to fire me on my first day. Ogling my neighbor is bad enough. Ogling my boss is a big no-no. It’s making my stomach churn and my head starts to pound. I can’t do this.

A sudden rapping on my window makes my heart jump out of my chest as I snap open my eyes. I look up at the knuckles rapping on my window. I lean forward so I can make out who the hell is tapping so annoyingly. My glance travels up a body until I meet the most amazing, big brown eyes.

Ah, hell of course, it’s him. Braxton.

I forgot how breathtakingly beautiful his eyes were. The instant my brown eyes meet his chocolate ones; I get a sudden chill all the way down my spine. It makes me curl my toes; remembering the hot dreams I had last night of this breathtakingly hot son-of-a-gun. Those memories alone make my core start to ache for him. Oh my, this is not good!

This is never going to work. I am going to spend my days drooling over him and mentally eye-fucking him every chance I get. So not good! I should just go home now and make up some shit excuse, so he can find somebody who knows what they are doing.

I roll down my window and force a smile as I feel my face heat up and turn bright red. His smile gets a little wider and his eyes dance with amusement. Oh man, I wish I could read his mind right now. His eyes are telling me something. I just wish I could pinpoint what.

“Right on time, Izzy. You are making me happy already.” He says as he leans into my car door.

“You told me to be here at eight and here I am. But you may want to reconsider hiring me.” I say smiling back, hoping that I don’t throw up on him. My past insecurities are screaming at me; you aren’t good enough! As much as I need a job, I just don’t want to look like an idiot. Not in front of him. I wonder if he can tell I’m scared shitless right now.

“Why?” His eyebrows furrow together as in trying to process why I said this.

“Well. I… I don’t know a lot about bikes or cars.” I say in a nervous whisper. He makes me nervous and it is unnerving me.

“Did I ask you if you had experience with bikes or cars? I believe I told you I had hoped you didn’t have any experience. You recall that conversation?”

Oh Jesus, stop looking at me like that, please.

Trying to get up the courage, I tilt my chin challengingly. “Yeah, but I thought you were talking about something else. Not the job.” Oh shit. What if I misread him? What if he’s just a guy who likes to flirt with girls because he’s a flirty guy?

“Izzy. Izzy. Izzy. You are too damned cute for your sake. You know that?” He says with a slight chuckle. As he leans into my open window, I can smell his cologne, and it burns a path through every cell in my body. And by burn, I mean exquisite burn. The fierce kind of burn that slowly starts a fire in the pit of your stomach and then radiates until you are completely consumed by it.

Smug bastard. He knows what he is doing, and the maddening thing is? It’s working.

“Oh, you are so messing with my head. I’m not even sure how to take you.” Let alone right now, my head has been swimming since I met him. What a major flirt.

“Hmmm.” He says as he pulls his lips tightly together and shakes his head. “Let’s just say there is only one way to take me, you can be assured of that.”

“Braxton you are so confusing, maybe this was a bad idea. I left a bad situation, and you are like, jumping into the frying pan.” Jesus H. Christ, what did I walk in to here? Moaning and laying my head back against my seat, I huff out a gigantic breath.

He seems to process what I have just told him for a few seconds, and then he says. “Darlin’, you have nothing to worry about. Looks to me like whatever situation you left behind, you may need protecting. I will keep you safe. You need me for anything else; I am here as well. As far as the frying pan, I can only imagine how good it would be to sizzle with you.”

Oh My God! Seriously?

“Braxton I am serious. What is this?” I say with my hand gesturing a movement from me to him.

He leans down, so he is close to my face. Like nose-to-nose close. “Time will tell, but for right now I am in need of an office girl. A beautiful, sweet, and good looking office girl. You fit the bill just right.”

My insides do somersaults, and my panties instantly get wet. What am I getting myself into?

“Come on, darlin’. Let’s get to work.” Braxton gives me a wink, then opens my door for me and stands back so I can climb out.

He walks ahead of me as we head into the office area. It looks like I will have a small office where I will do most of my work, but I will be trained to help work the counter in the reception area as well. Braxton walks me through the duties of ordering parts as well as processing and organizing service calls and tickets. I will be in charge of billing and collecting money owed. All seems pretty straight forward.

I gradually meet the mechanics who are also Braxton’s best friends. They are like a bunch of buddies who seriously know what the hell they are doing. The shop has five bay areas that are all full and then there are bikes and cars parked outside waiting to be worked on.

Taking it all in, I let out a big whistle, then look up at Braxton. “Man, you have a great business going here.”

“Thanks,” he says with a mixture of sexy authority and pride. “We like to have fun, but we also like to earn money. The guys know the difference between play time and get-shit-done time.”

“I see, so you don’t have to yell at your buddies too much?” I playfully jab him with my shoulder.

“Nope. They do not like to have a pissed-off Brax in their faces.” He says this as he is looking straight ahead.

“I wouldn’t want a pissed-off Braxton in my face either,” I say, glancing back at the guys.

Suddenly he stops and turns right to me.

He eyes me with curiosity. “Why do you call me Braxton instead of Brax?”

I shrug my shoulders. “It’s your name. It’s unique, and I like it. Should I call you Brax instead?” Maybe I have offended him or something. I like Braxton, I might be the only one calling him it, but so be it. When have I ever done what other people have done, usually I do the polar opposite. Most likely why I ended up the way I did. Shaking off those bad memories, I need to concentrate on the here and now.

A large smile plays across his face.

“I just find it curious. Everyone calls me Brax, and yet you call me by my given name. I hate it when people call me that, but for some reason when you say it, it sounds kind of nice.”

He is deep in thought, and his look is somewhat sad. “Do you need some nice in your life Braxton?” I say with as much sincerity as I can.

My comment seems to strike a nerve because he stands dead still and stares at me. His look of wonder gives way to a deeper emotion. Not sure what he is thinking, but as I gaze into his eyes, things became crystal clear to me. Braxton may be complex and a master at mind games, but he also looks vulnerable. He’s a man in need of something special. I always wanted to be something special or at least someone’s special.

Maybe we could be something special to each other. Just maybe we could find that quality in one another. If only. All, I need, is a little love in my life, so I know I’m not falling apart.

Braxton may need something special, but my kind of special is dark, broken and bruised.

SURVIVING MY FIRST WEEK
at Ryles wasn’t as bad as I first thought. It has been a hell of a lot harder than I ever imagined. The Parts Orders have me so screwed up my brain is fried. Having zero knowledge of bike and car parts has seriously impaired my ability to do my job. I have explained to Braxton this is exactly why he should have hired someone with experience. To this, he just laughs and makes some joke about ‘fuck experience’. Braxton has been amazing though; he is always there for me to ask questions and even takes time answering each and every one. Most of the time he laughs, as he corrects my many feeble attempts. I have never felt so valued while feeling like a complete screw-up. I have to say it; this is an awesome place to work. Any other job I would have been fired ten times over by now.

I’ve gotten to know his best friends/co-workers Knox and Brody. They are a riot and enjoy teasing the new girl to the point my cheeks hurt from smiling. Alex and Cage are more standoffish and rarely acknowledge me. Not sure if they don’t like me, or they just don’t talk much. Jag and Minter are the newest mechanics and are a riot as well. They joke more than they should, and they tend to get most of the cleanup duties as the shop gets pretty dirty. That leaves me; the only female in the shop, the odd man out. Most of the time, they tend to embarrass my ass, making sure to point out my many mistakes. They dish it out, but I tend to dish it back. God knows; they are growing on me.