“Where the hell is this place?” I asked, frustration seeping into my voice.

“I don’t remember exactly,” Samson said. He squinted out the window, trying to see past the large warehouse in front of us. “It was behind this.”

“All right.” I turned the wheel and pulled onto a bumpy road. Loose gravel popped up around the truck. I slowed down and peered through the windshield.

“I think it’s,” Samson began. He craned his neck, trying to see better. “There!”

Samson pointed out the window. I followed his finger and saw a small drive just up ahead. As we got closer, I could make out the rundown shop tucked away at the back of a tiny parking lot.

“This is it?” I asked as I cut the engine and put the truck in park.

“Don’t dismiss it yet,” Samson said. “Let’s at least go inside.”

I shook my head but followed him anyway. We made our way to the office. A bell rang when we pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The office looked fine. It was tiny, but for a shop that small, it fit. There were a few chairs lined up against the back wall and a counter to our left. Beside the counter sat a makeshift coffee station. It was just a card table with an old coffee pot, a thing of creamer, and a few packs of sugar.

“Well,” I scoffed. “Not exactly a high-class joint, is it?”

“It’s an old repair shop,” Samson said defensively. “What did you expect?”

“It has potential,” I said. “But, it needs some serious work.”

“But you like it?” Samson asked with a spark of hope in his voice.

“I’ll need to see the garage.”

“Can I help you fellas?” A voice asked from somewhere behind us.

I spun around to see a man standing in a doorway separating the office from the shop. He looked to be in his mid to late forties with salt and pepper hair. His eyes were a deep brown that considered us carefully as he walked around to stand behind the counter.

“Hello,” I said professionally. “I’m Declan Gamble. I assume you run this place?”

“Garrett.” He extended his hand. I stepped forward and shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “Do you have a minute to sit and talk with us?”

“About what exactly?” Garret asked. His voice was level, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

“We run Gamble Realty,” I said. “Have you heard of it?”

Garret scoffed. “Place that buys and sells old properties.”

“Exactly.” I tried to mask my surprise, but it wasn’t often that anyone knew who we were before we arrived.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of you.” Garret eyed us without emotion. On the surface, he seemed relaxed, but I sensed tension hiding just beneath the surface.

“So, could we take a seat and talk?”

“I’m not who you’re looking for,” Garret said.

“Excuse me?”

“You asked if I run this place,” Garret said. “I don’t. You’re looking for the owner, Alex Tanner.”

I nodded. “She’s the owner?”

“Yup.” Garret nodded once.

“I understand she owns the shop,” I said. “But, really, we’re looking to speak with the person who runs the day to day operations. That would be you, correct?”

“Wrong.” Garret grinned. “Again, you’re looking for Alex.”

He pointed behind us. Samson and I both wheeled around. Through the window, we could see a woman leaning forward over a bike. Her dark hair fell over her face, blocking it from view.

“A woman runs the shop?” The question left my lips before I thought better of it.

“That’s right,” Garret said proudly. “And I would keep that tone of surprise out of your voice when you talk to Alex. She has very little patience for sexism.”

“I’m not—” I began quickly.

“Doesn’t matter to me one way or the other,” Garret said. “Just a friendly warning.”

“Thank you,” Samson said.

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”

Samson and I moved to the door. I glanced back at Garret. He was watching us closely, a glint of protectiveness in his eyes.

“He was intense,” Samson said under his breath.

I didn’t say anything. I was used to intense personalities. I was no stranger to the hard-ass types, but Garret threw me for a loop. He surprised me and put me on my guard in a way no one had for a while.

“I figured the owner chick would just handle the books or something,” Samson said. “I never thought she’d work in the shop.”

“Me neither,” I said. “Guess we’re both sexist.”

“Just surprised,” Samson said.

I nodded and led the way to where Alex stood. We stepped up beside her, and I cleared my throat to get her attention.

“Just a sec,” she said without looking up. “I just need to loosen this. Son of a bitch!”

“Need some help?” I asked politely.

That got her attention. She looked up at me with a pair of emerald green eyes that were narrowed in disgust. She scoffed and threw her entire body down on the wrench in her hands. With a loud screech, the bolt she’d been working on suddenly spun loose.

“Got it,” she said. She pulled the bolt free and tossed it a few inches in the air. When she caught it, she looked back at me with amusement in her eyes. “Can I help you?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. My eyes were still locked on hers. They were so green. For a few seconds, that was all I could think. Her eyes are so fucking green.

“Yes,” Samson said, stepping forward quickly. “I’m Samson Gamble, and this is my brother, Declan. We’re just here to check out the shop if that’s okay?”

“Sure.” Alex shrugged and jerked her head to indicate we should follow her. “I’ll show you around.”

“If you’re busy,” Samson began.

“Nah.” Alex shook her head. “I got a minute. Come on.”

She took a few steps away from us, gathering her long, dark hair in her hands as she moved. She tied it in a messy knot at the back of her head. With her arms raised, her grease-stained T-shirt rose up around her waist. My eyes flickered to the bare skin that appeared. I swallowed hard when I noticed the top of a tattoo peeking out just above her jeans. My eyes fell lower, and I felt my breath catch in my chest.

Alex turned her head around to make sure we were following her. I snapped my eyes back up, feeling my cheeks flush from being caught.

Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice.

“You coming?” she asked, looking from me to Samson and then back again.

“Sure thing.” Samson took a few steps to catch up with her. I fell behind, letting them walk ahead and doing my best not to stare at Alex’s ass again.

“So, this is basically it,” Alex said as she led us around the shop. “We’re pretty small, but we can fix just about anything. From Kawasakis to Harleys, I’ve worked on it all. Back here is our lube station and …”

I tried to stay focused, but my attention drifted easily. My eyes darted around the shop, looking at everything but seeing nothing. All I wanted to do was stare at Alex while she spoke. It took all my strength not to let my gaze linger on her pink lips.

“I was in here a few years back,” Samson said.

“Yeah?” Alex asked. “We’ve changed a couple things since then.”

“I noticed.” Samson nodded. “You added another bay up front, didn’t you? And the office is painted a different color.”

“Good memory,” Alex said, laughing softly. My heart jumped at the sound. “We repainted two years ago. I got bored with the yellow. We all thought it looked a—”

“Fucking daycare,” Samson finished.

“We’ve met before,” Alex said without questioning it.

“Yeah,” Samson said. “You probably don’t remember me.”

“Sorry.” Alex’s voice remained the same.

Samson shrugged and looked around the shop. I tried to do the same, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Alex.

“Have you ever thought about expanding the shop?” Samson asked, changing the subject quickly.

“Of course,” Alex said. “How could I not? But, somethings just aren’t in the cards.”

“Right.” Samson smiled kindly and then turned to me.

He was waiting for me to speak. It wasn’t often that I remained silent this long. While we were at work, I ran the show. Samson was used to being my sidekick. It wasn’t often that I let him take the lead.

Just then, a bike engine roared behind us. The three of us turned around to see a man about Garret’s age zip into the parking lot. He cut the engine and pulled his helmet off. When he saw us, he waved at Alex and made his way toward the office.

“Give me a second,” Alex said. “You guys feel free to keep looking around. I’ll be right back.”

Alex jogged across the shop and disappeared into the office. She was gone for maybe five seconds when I felt a tug in my stomach.

“Should we bring it up?” Samson asked, oblivious to my preoccupation.

“What?” I asked.

“The sale,” he said. “Should we ask about it?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Not yet. She thinks we’re just here to look around, let’s leave it at that for now. We can discuss our options and then come back another time.”

“You sure?” Samson frowned.

I nodded just as Alex reappeared. She slipped back into the shop and jogged over to us. Her dark hair had fallen out of its knot and was flying around her face. She brushed it aside, leaving a small trace of grease behind on her cheek.

“Listen,” she said. “I gotta help this guy out. He’s heading out on the road tonight and needs a serious tune-up.”

“No worries,” Samson said. “Thanks for showing us around.”

“No problem,” Alex said. “Stop back in anytime. Bring your bikes next time. I’ll give you a discount.”

“You do remember me?” Samson said.

Alex laughed. “Nah. I’m just trying to make money.”

She grinned at us one last time and then ran back to the office. I watched her go, feeling that same tug in the pit of my stomach. She was gorgeous. If we didn’t leave soon, I wasn’t sure I would be able to.

“Let’s head back to the office,” I said. “We can grab lunch on the way.”

“Sounds good.”

Samson and I jumped in the truck, and I sped out of the parking lot. My mind was still spinning from meeting Alex, so when Samson asked me what I thought about the shop, I couldn’t answer right away.

“I liked it,” I finally said. “You were right. It has some serious potential.”

“Can I get that on tape?” Samson joked.

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes.

“So, we can go back?” Samson asked. “Make them an offer?”

“I don’t see why not,” I said.

“You okay?” Samson asked suddenly. I glanced at him while I drove. He was staring at me with a mixture of confusion and concern. “You were kind of out of it back there.”

“I’m good,” I said. “Just hungry. My stomach is a fucking pit.”

Samson didn’t buy my excuse, but he let it go. We drove back into town and picked up a burger on the way. Samson rambled on and on about everything he wanted to do with the bike shop. I tried to listen, but Alex’s green eyes kept invading my thoughts. I couldn’t shake her for the rest of the day.