Epilogue
Eliza
Two years later
I lay in Ian’s bed, wondering why on earth I still had an apartment. I was never there anymore. I generally just went there to get my things, but I was leaving more and more of my belongings behind at Ian’s house. I was going to have to talk to him about moving in. It seemed silly not to. I loved my apartment, but it was way smaller than Ian’s and his was more convenient for work for both of us. I looked at the time and grinned. It was almost ten in the morning, and I was still lying in bed. Ian had left early that morning for a breakfast date with his father, and I’d told myself that I was going to have a productive day. But so far, I’d just stayed in bed, dozing off or sometimes reading. It was nice.
Sometimes I couldn’t believe that I’d been with Ian for two years. We’d gone through so much in the beginning that we’d gotten close a lot quicker than a normal relationship. But I knew that I didn’t ever want to be with anyone else. He was the one. I just knew it. I’d taken him home to California about nine months prior. It was the first time that I’d gone home, and it felt strange to be back there. Ian had been worried that I would take one look at the place and want to move back. But that hadn’t happened. I knew it wouldn’t.
We’d stayed with my mother for a few days, and even though she objected to the relationship at the start, she was clearly enamored with Ian by the time we left. She’d told me that she had been in the wrong and that she had only been looking out for my best interests. Things hadn’t been good between my mother and I, but after going back home to see her, it had gotten better. She called at least twice a week now to catch up, and sometimes she spoke to Ian more than she spoke to me. She often asked if I would come back, and I always said no. I loved my mother, but Arizona as my home now. Ian was my home.
I heard the door open and close and then saw Ian’s face pop around the corner.
“You still in bed?”
I laughed. “Yeah. I’m in such a lazy mood.”
“Good, you deserve it. You’re the hardest working person I’ve ever met. I mean, I thought I was a workaholic. But you take the cake.”
“I love cake,” I said, and we both laughed.
He wasn’t lying about work, though. The company had gotten huge over the past two years and was now the leading party company in Arizona. John was now looking at expanding the business to more cities in the state, and was currently in the process of looking for staff members and venues. Mae and I were still the top party planners in the company, and we’d both hired an assistant to help us. On top of that, we’d hired an assistant for Paul, as well as a receptionist. The company was booming. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the outside of the building, which was still as derelict as before. I loved it.
“Have you eaten?” he asked me.
I pointed to the plate next to me, which now just had a few crumbs on it. “Yeah, I had peanut butter on toast. The breakfast of champions. How about you? How was breakfast with your dad? How’s he doing?”
I’d gotten close to Pop in the past two years. My own father had passed away when I was just a little girl, and my mother had never remarried. Ian’s father treated me just like the daughter he never had, and I loved him for it.
“He’s doing well. He’s almost fully recovered. It took a lot longer than he had hoped, but I suppose it’s because he’s a lot older now. But he’s doing well. He’s back to his old self again. And he’s asked me to take on the role as president of the club. Like permanently.”
“Really? I thought he’d want the job once he was better?”
“He said it was pointless. He reckons I’ve been doing a better job than him. He’s still going to be a part of the club, but he wants me to be in charge.”
“What did you say?”
He grinned. “I said yes. I was sort of hoping he’d let me do it anyway.”
“I knew you were.”
“And he’s asked me to officially take over at the shop. He’s still going to work there, but he wants me to be in charge. Who knew he would ever trust me enough for this?”
“So, you own the shop now? That’s amazing!”
“Yeah. Oh, and there’s something I want to show you there. I’ve been working on a little something. I want to show you before I show anyone else. Mind if we stop by there before going out for dinner tonight?”
“We’re going out for dinner?” I asked. That was news to me.
“We are. Wear your yellow dress.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? I haven’t worn that dress in ages.”
“I know. But I want to see you in it again.”
I smiled. That dress would always remind of that time in the clearing when we’d made love on the grass. There was still a small grass stain at the bottom of the dress that I’d never managed to get out.
“I like this. Dinner and my outfit all picked for me. I don’t actually see any reason to get out of bed until then.”
Ian laughed. “Oh yeah? Well, you might not see a reason to get out of bed, but I definitely see a reason to get into bed.”
I pulled back the covers. “Come on in.”
We spent the entire day in bed, getting up only for bathroom breaks and snacks. It was wonderful.
“All right, then, sleepyhead,” Ian said early that evening. “It’s time to get ready. Dinner has been booked, and we can’t be late.”
“Yes, sir,” I said and got out of bed. I climbed into the shower and then changed into my bright-yellow dress.
“Should I wear heels with this? Seeing as though we’re going out for dinner.”
“What? No way. Since when has that stopped you before? Sneakers for sure.”
I grinned. “I’m so glad you said that. I don’t know what got into me there.”
I put on my white sneakers, curled my hair ever so slightly at the edges, and put on a bit of makeup. I walked out and twirled for Ian.
“Beautiful.”
“So, where are we going?” I asked when we got out. We climbed onto his bike, and I wondered why I had even bothered with my hair.
“You’ll see,” he said. “But first, we’re going to the shop.”
We made our way to the shop, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. I loved going for rides on the motorcycle and would choose it over a car ride any day. It was night time, and the shop was closed, so Ian fished out his key and opened up. We walked past his dad’s office, and then Ian flicked the switch in the garage.
I gasped when the light came on. The entire shop had been decorated, and in the middle stood a table and two chairs. On the table was a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
“Ian, what’s going on? How did you do all this?”
He smiled. “Well, I happen to know some very good party planners in town.”
“Mae did this?”
“Yeah, she worked all day on it. She did a good job,” he said and looked around.
“So, this is where we are having dinner?”
“Oh yeah. Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding me? I love it. This is amazing. Wow, it’s beautiful.”
It was one of the most romantic settings I’d ever seen, which was quite something considering it was in the middle of a garage. The motorcycles and tools somehow just added to the appeal. It was a mixture of romantic and eclectic at once, and I loved it. I looked back at Ian and saw that he was holding three presents in his hands.
“What’s this?”
“Gifts. Sit down.”
I took a seat and squealed.
“I thought you were going to tell me that I shouldn’t have gotten you anything.”
“No way,” I said. “I love presents.”
He chuckled. “And that’s what I love about you. Okay, which present do you want first?”
I pointed to the small one, but he shook his head. “No, you can have this one first,” he said and handed me a much bigger box.
I laughed and opened up the box, careful not to tear the paper.
“You can rip right into it, you know.”
“I know. But I don’t want to.”
I pulled out a box and opened it up. Inside was a pair of white shoes, with yellow laces. I laughed with delight.
“These are the coolest shoes I’ve ever seen. Wait, I’m putting them on now.”
I bent over and put the new shoes on and twirled around the room for Ian to see.
“Do you like them?” he asked.
“They’re perfect. I never thought of changing the color of my laces. I’m going to do that all the time now. These are so cool. Thank you! Wait, why am I even getting gifts? It’s not my birthday.”
“Does there need to be a reason?”
“I guess not.”
“Then you can have gift number two.”
Inside was my very own helmet. It was black with a bright-yellow flower on the side.
“I sense a theme here,” I said when I saw the yellow. “This is amazing. You sure you won’t mind riding with me wearing this thing? It’s very girly.”
“Well, you’re a girl,” he said. “And I thought you’d like it. It’s about time you had your own helmet.”
“It’s perfect.”
“And now, for the final gift. After that, we can start the eating and drinking part of the night.”
He handed me a small box. I opened this one even more slowly than before. I didn’t want the fun to end. I figured it would be something else yellow. But I didn’t expect to see a beautiful silver ring with a tiny yellow stone in it. I looked at Ian with surprise and saw that he was down on his knee.
“Eliza, you’re the most beautiful girl that I’ve ever known. You’re my sunlight. And nothing in the world would make me happier than having you as my wife. Will you marry me?”
I felt the tears fall down my face. “Yes! Yes, of course, I will marry you. Can I wear these sneakers to the wedding?” I said, and he laughed.
“You’d better wear them to the wedding.”
I laughed and wiped away my tears.
“I love you, Lashes.”
“I love you too, Gunner.”
“Did you just call me ‘Gunner’?” he teased.
I bit my lip. “Anyone coming in here tonight?”
“No, it’s just us. Come on, let me put this ring on your finger. Keep it on. Hell, keep the shoes on, too.”
I chuckled. “Do you just want to have sex with me so that I will enjoy whatever food you give me?”
“Maybe. You can’t blame me, though. I learned from the best!”
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DIRTY SEAL
By Alycia Taylor
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Alycia Taylor
Chapter One
Grant
“So, how do you go from being a Navy SEAL to working in real estate? Do you actually enjoy this job?”
I tried not to show my annoyance, which wasn’t too difficult because I’d grown fairly good at keeping a deadpan face over the years. But the question still annoyed me. I hadn’t been a Navy SEAL in a long time, and I’d already been at this job for almost a year. Surely by now I should be accepted as just one of the guys, rather than some prize monkey in a cage?
“Well, do you enjoy it?” I asked hoping to turn the conversation around to Peter.
Peter sighed. “Not really. I mean, when I manage to sell something decent, then yeah, I guess so. But for the most part, it feels like too much admin and too much running around. And it’s sort of depressing selling houses that are so much better than the one that I live in. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this job. I’m too honest.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Peter was by far one of the most honest men that I’d ever met. Sometimes it was refreshing, and other times it was frustrating. But he was a good kid who meant well, and it was hard to stay mad at him.
“Tell me about it. When they’re asking me all these questions about the house I feel like they can totally see through all my lies. I’m not good at exaggerating like some of the other guys here.”
Peter looked around at the other men and women in the office, most of whom were on the phone or typing furiously into their computers. They were the sort of people that gave estate agents a bad name, because they would do anything to sell a house. I didn’t get along with any of them. Peter was the only one that I actually enjoyed being around, even when he was a pain in the ass.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “They’re all sharks. They were born to do this job. But if I don’t make a sale soon, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to continue here.”
“Seriously?” I asked. “You thinking of leaving?”
He nodded. “I am. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now. My wife has been nagging me to leave. She can see I’m unhappy. I don’t think I’m good with commission-based work. I need to find a place with a solid and dependable salary.”
“So, what are you thinking of doing?”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem. But I’m definitely keeping my eyes and ears open for something else. I have to. And, I’ll be honest, Grant, I think you should, too. No offense or anything. You just don’t seem happy here. Ah, that’s my phone; maybe I sold a house!” he said and ran off.
I could tell by his facial expression that the person on the other side of the phone was not a client, but more than likely his wife. For a while, I sat staring at my computer screen. We got a small base wage, but the rest of what we earned was based on commission. And so far, I hadn’t been doing very well. But I knew that the fault was with me. I just didn’t feel any passion for the job. I didn’t go after the sales like the rest of the staff seemed to do. And Peter was right; I wasn’t happy. I’d overheard one of the other staff members talking about me once. They’d laughed about how miserable I always was. Apparently, I walked around with a permanent scowl on my face. I’d walked passed the mirror once and realized that they had been right. I really did look miserable.
But going from being a Navy SEAL to a realtor had not been good for my general state of my mind. Every day I made my way to work and wondered what on earth I was doing. I felt as if I was just floating through the days without a sense of purpose. And while that was not how I wanted to live my life, I also had no idea how to fix it. I needed a job, and I needed something to occupy my mind.
I spent the rest of the day trying to focus on the job at hand, and by the end of the day I’d set up a few appointments for the upcoming week. It was hardly enough to make me feel good about the job, but at least it was something. Perhaps if I just applied myself more, I’d be better at the job. I was sure that if an old friend hadn’t set this job up for me, I wouldn’t have actually been accepted into the company. I was sure they were already regretting their decision.
As I was leaving for work that day, Peter waved goodbye at me and said, “Give some thought to what I said. I think it’s time we changed our lives for the better.”
I nodded and walked away without giving it much thought, and tried to shove the conversation to the back of my mind. Peter might be right, but I had more important things to think about that day. For one, I had to visit my father in the hospital.
My father, Paul Maxwell, had taught me how to be tough. He was a good man who loved his bikes more than anything else in the world. The only thing that came close to his love of motorcycles was the love that he had for his five children, although you wouldn’t always know it from the way that he acted. But I’d always been close to him, and I was probably the only one out of all the brothers who didn’t mind showing that love to him. He might have shown me how to be tough, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t be close. I sometimes felt that he was the only one who could see through my toughness, and I assumed that was because I could see right through his.
The day I found out he had cancer had been a dark day for me, but I was grateful when the doctor had pulled me aside to let me know that it was treatable. Still, he had to go through a round of chemotherapy, and I knew that this was going to be hard on him.
I made my way to the hospital and found the cancer treatment facility where my father was staying. It was my second time going to meet with him, and even though he kept telling me that I didn’t need to visit, I knew he appreciated it.
“Grant, I didn’t know you were coming today!” he said. “It’s good to see you, son.”
I could see the smile on his face, which was good to see. Because, other than the smile, he was looking a little gaunt and a little more tired than usual.
“It’s good to see you too, Pop,” I said. “So, how’s it going? They treating you nicely here?”
He nodded. “They are. The food is great. Better than home cooking.”
I laughed. My father lived by himself, and he’d never been good in the kitchen. “That’s because your home cooking is terrible.”
“Ha! How can you say that you to your own father?”
“It’s the truth. And don’t worry, the same can be said for me. I think it was pretty clear that none of the Maxwell brothers were going to be chefs. A good old cheese and tomato sandwich and I’m good to go.”
“Sounds like the food in my house, too. I didn’t mind, but now that they’ve introduced me to real cooking, I’m not sure that I can go back to that. I might actually have to learn a few things.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Well, you can invite me over for dinner then. So, other than food, how are things?”
“Ah, you know, same old. I’m feeling okay. They said this first part would be rough but that after that I should feel more like my old self. I only have to stay here a few days at a time. At least I can come into work every now and then. I hate being away from it.”
I chuckled. That didn’t surprise me one bit. My father was a workaholic whose whole life had been dedicated to his motorcycle garage. On top of the shop, he was also one of the leading members of the motorcycle club. His whole life revolved around the shop and the club. The only other person in the family who was quite as dedicated to being in the motorcycle business was my brother Ian, who worked at the shop.
“Oh, you’ll be back in no time. And don’t worry it. I’m sure Gunner’s doing a great job. You know he’s good at what he does.”
“Do you ever call him by his real name?”
I laughed. All the members of the motorcycle club had a nickname, and I’d been calling Ian ‘Gunner’ for as long as I could remember. It would be strange to call him anything else.
“Nope. Just like I call you Pop and everyone calls me Patriot. It feels more . . . normal.”
“Hmm, well you’re still Ian and Grant to me. Did you hear that Ian was in the newspaper again? That boy is giving me gray hairs.”
I sighed. Ian and my father were more alike than either of them cared to admit.
“Look, I was also angry when I saw that he was in the paper. He shouldn’t have hit that guy. But it’s not his fault. I spoke to him. Ian has met the nicest girl. Her name is Eliza, and she’s nothing like the girls he is normally with.”
“I know. I met her. She’s adorable.”
“She is. But she has an abusive ex-boyfriend that has been looking for her. You can’t blame Ian for punching the guy’s lights out. Come on; you know that you and I would’ve done the same in his position. And it’s not his fault he was put in the newspaper for it. The media hates the motorcycle club and will do anything to tarnish our name. Did you see that the paper barely mentioned the other guy even though he was the one that was causing trouble? It’s not Ian’s fault.”
“I don’t know. He should’ve just walked away. He knows that we have the club’s reputation on the line. I don’t know, Grant. I’m starting to regret putting him in charge of the club. He’s great at his job, but I don’t want to see the club fall apart because of his poor decisions.”
I sighed. Ian was the perfect man for the job, and once my father retired from the position, I wanted to see Ian take over. Nobody else in the club cared as much as he did. Hell, even I didn’t. I was a member of the club, but I barely went to any of the meetings. I’d only been going recently to stop me from going mad sitting at home alone with just my thoughts.
“Pop, Ian is great for the job. You know that as much as I do.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should be the one that takes over.”
“I’ll help as much as I need to while you are here. But don’t count Ian out too quickly. He needs you. And he’s a born leader, just like you are. He just doesn’t realize it yet.”
My father grunted and said he’d think about it, and I quickly changed the subject. I had no desire to be in the club anymore, and I needed him to start seeing Ian’s potential.
Afterward, I walked out of the hospital feeling confused. I loved my bike, but I just wanted to ride it. I didn’t want to be too involved in the club, and I didn’t want to work in the shop. It was clear to me just how much my father and my brother loved what they did. Every single day they woke up excited for the day ahead. But I just went to work and wondered why anyone would care so much about real estate. I stared at a screen and willed the day to go fast. I didn’t want to be involved in the motorcycle world, I didn’t want to be involved in the real estate world, and every day I came home to an empty house with nothing to do but think.
Peter’s words came rushing to the forefront of my mind as I climbed onto my bike and headed home.
I think it’s time we changed our lives.