Except for a few stray benches and utility tables, the auto repair shop was abandoned. Metal, engine grease, and gasoline smells still lingered on some of the surfaces and old, rusted parts. All the locks had been broken. The windows had been busted out and cigarette butts and empty beer cans littered the floor. Deacon even caught sight of drug paraphernalia on the floor. Roy, the manager at the gas station, mentioned something about how teens would linger inside every now and then. He'd run them off if they were up to no good, but most of them were just looking for a place to hang out with their friends.

Seeing the place this way left him in an odd state of disappointment. When he bought the place at eighteen, this wasn't the vision he had. He had never planned to leave here without realizing his dream of being one of the best motorcycle and vehicle repair shops in the State.

The second level above the wait room and office looked the same. Beer cans, trash, and all kinds of things that Deacon preferred not to pick up with his bare hands littered the floor. The mess was evidence that he needed to decide on what to do with the place.

Roy had been trying to get Deacon to sell the place to him even before he left town. For whatever reason, Deacon couldn't bear to let the place go. Even now, he realized that the shop probably meant more to him than the farm he grew up on. Aside from a motorcycle that he'd bought from a junk yard on the day he got his driver's license, this building was among the first things that he'd ever owned and outright bought with his own money. Now he was standing here at a crossroads in the center of the shop.

If he took Luke's advice by restoring the place with plans of reopening the auto repair shop again, that would mean moving back to Aspen Valley—for good. If he sold the building and the land to Roy, he'd have enough funds to take back with him to Tunica and start up another auto repair shop of his own. Either way, Luke was right. Deacon wanted to get back to doing what he did best and what he enjoyed doing most. Sure he could try to buy another farm and live off the land, but he'd never had a green thumb like his grandmama. He could bring an engine back to life faster than he could revive a bed of wilted flowers.

This shouldn't have been a difficult decision. It was a no-brainer, but his mind kept going back to Monica. He wanted to get to know her so badly. She had everything she needed here. She had family here, she had a career here, and she was respected by the people here. He didn't want to ruin that for her. He had no right to take her back to Tunica where he could claim her for himself and his wolf. Just like her dad, Deacon wanted her to have only what was best for her.

His wolf had other ideas—the wolf saw what was his and he craved. In the quest to claim a true mate, was it ever honorable to put a mate in a position to do something that wasn't in their best interests? He and Monica were like night and day. She was the daughter of a prominent doctor and he was the rogue without immediate goals. He lived by the day never knowing if tomorrow would bring more bad luck for him.

After getting all of Evan's frivolous charges against him dropped and being released from jail, Deacon's actions afterward told him what his intentions were. He'd given himself up to his wolf and retraced his route straight to Monica Collin's front door. Well…not exactly at her front door. But he made it to the cul-de-sac in front of the mansion where he could view the front courtyard. Her car wasn't there and after skirting the property for a while, there had been no signs of anyone in the house. His first instincts were that she'd gone to work that morning—except it was Saturday. Or maybe she had spent the night with the friend she'd come to LIVE with. Or maybe she'd reconciled issues with her coward-ass ex-boyfriend.

What was he thinking anyway…going to her home uninvited? He knew exactly why. He needed her. After a night spent in jail, he'd been at his lowest emotionally. His wolf's only instinct was to seek someone that seemed to genuinely care about him. It was no mystery that Monica had uprooted those feelings in his wolf.

After lingering for another half hour, her neighbors woke up and meandered out of their homes, and he decided he had to move out before he was caught and labeled a thief or trespasser. Accusations that would only land him back in jail. So he left, retrieved his motorcycle from the back of LIVE nightclub where he had parked it Saturday night, and returned to the rented bunkhouse in the mountains.

The wolf wanted to venture out again, so here he was standing in the place that brought back so many memories.

The sound of a car engine drowned out his thoughts. He heard loose gravel give way as if the car was coming to a stop near the entryway of the shop. He listened carefully, trying to identify the type of car by listening to the purr of its engine. The sound didn't belong to a clunky or anything needing repair. This engine was in a class with high caliber.

He rushed outside immediately to confirm that his instincts were spot on. Monica was getting out of her red Corvette when he pushed through the front door. He'd never been more happier to see anyone again in his life. She'd come to him and that meant the world to him.

When she rose to her full height and flashed the most beautiful smile that Deacon had ever seen, his heart fluttered wildly. His racing heartbeat wasn't his only reaction to seeing her. The mate mark on his left forearm heated on his skin.

Deacon went out to meet her in the front of the shop.

"Hey." He grinned. His words left him. Instead, he focused on her beauty and the way her eyes lit up when she looked at him.

"Hi," she said, shyly.

"You came…?"

"Yeah, I thought you weren't here at first. I didn't see your motorcycle," she said.

He grinned. "I didn't the bike today. I ran."

Her gaze fluttered across his body. He couldn't be certain, but he figured she was imagining what he looked like after a shift.

"You didn't have to come all this way for me," he said.

"Call me persistent but I like to show my appreciation when someone does me a favor," she said.

"If you're talking about what happened last night, that wasn't a favor. That was my duty. I'd never stand by and let a man take advantage of a woman like that."

"I was thankful for that too, but I never ever got a chance to thank you for getting me home on the night of the storm," she said. "So…thank you." She gestured to the inside of her car. "I've got your bag and a gift for you."

"You didn't have to get anything for me," he said.

She handed over his drawstring bag and another gift bag. "But I did. By the way, that bag is pretty heavy."

"Probably because there are rolls of coins in side and several thousand dollars in cash. You didn't look?"

She gasped. "Of course not. I'm not a snoop, but seriously, you handed me a several thousand dollars to keep for you…just like that. I could have skipped town with that."

He grinned. "I trust you enough."

She rolled her eyes. "You really need to get that into a bank."

He shrugged. "So, I've been told. Apparently, my underground safe and vaults down in Tunica aren't enough."

Monica shook her head. "You're risking it."

He pulled a small box from the other bag she gave him. He was taken by surprise when he realized what the gift was.

He smiled. "You weren't kidding when you said you knew about the hummingbird feeders. Thank you." He couldn't remember the last time that someone had given him a gift. A physical gift. Something picked out just for him. He was floored by her thoughtfulness.

"It's made of spun glass. I really like the dark violet color. I spotted them hanging in the window of a tourist shop when I was filling up my gas tank this morning. I thought of you and these dreams I'm having when I saw them."

"So, then you're here to ask me about your dreams and what they must mean?"

"That's not all. Can I treat you to lunch or something?" she asked, blushing.

Deacon smiled. He was flattered that she cared enough to ask.

When he didn't answer right away, she said, "Looks like you've been working. If you're busy, that's okay."

"No. No, I'm not busy at all. Yes, we can have lunch," he replied. "But you do know that they've issued another tornado warning for the Valley area, right?"

"Well, luckily, I'm not in the Valley," she said.

"We'll get the thunderstorm out here too. I trust that you don't want to be on the road again when that happens."

She grinned. "Depends."

He narrowed his gaze.

"It's not every day that I get rescued by a hot hunk on a motorcycle."

He chuckled. "Alright, fair enough. This would be a great time for me to make a better impression. The first two times we ran into each other wasn't what I would call an ideal introduction. I was just finishing up in here, but I'll take you up on that lunch offer. We'll get a quick lunch in before the storms roll through."

Monica glanced out behind him and asked, "Is this your auto repair shop?"

"Yes, it's mine. And it used to be a repair shop. I kind of abandoned it," he replied.

"Can I look inside?" she asked.

"Sure. I'm needing a second opinion on whether I should keep it."

He held out his palm for her and there was no hesitation on her part when she slipped her hand inside his. There was a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach and the very air around them electrified. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this excited about spending time with a woman. He wanted to impress her, but he knew he had very little, but that didn't stop him from wanting to spend this moment with her.