Page 114 of Total Shutdown

“Wait,” I say, spinning to face him fully as Sawyer pulls up outside a large brick building with a red roller door—a bigger and flashier version of my own garage.

My boyfriend’s face is all smug and sunshine. “Yes, Baby Girl?”

He reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a black fob. When he hits the left button once, the door begins to retract.

“Oh, holy hellllll,” I drawl, a trembling hand flying to my mouth as I reach for the door handle.

Sawyer’s hand darts out to stop me from getting out. “Let me drive you in. There’s plenty of space inside.”

“You didn’t,” I say, voice as shaky as my hand.

He chuckles and edges the car closer to the entrance before driving over the small ramp and into the most beautiful garage I’ve ever seen. “You bet your ass I did.”

I jump out of the car before he even stops it, spinning around in the vast white space. It has everything, even a huge replicaBikerCollinssign across the back wall.

“Oh my God!” I squeal, pulling a drawer open on one of the many state-of-the-art Hilka heavy-duty combination chests. They’re all red, and they line the side walls of the garage.

In the center of the black-and-white checkered floor are four separate scissor lifts—something Smooth Running only had one of, which often meant I was breaking my back to work.

“Sawyer,” I croon, trying to take in the white space surrounding me. “It’s perfect.”

I set my eyes on him as he moves across to a single side door that I didn’t notice until now.

“But what will I do with my current garage?” I ask.

He changes direction and walks over to me, taking my hands in his. “Keep it—for storage, for personal use, for whatever you want. I got it, Baby Girl. Whatever you want.”

I raise a brow. “Personal use?”

He loops his arms under my ass and lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, hands clutching the back of his neck.

Jesus, I’m so happy.

“That’s right—for personal use. Just like it’s always been. This place will be transferred into your name, and I bought it so you could do what you do best—work with Harleys.”

I audibly gasp. OhJesus, he didn’t just buy this garage; he bought me a business.

“I … don’t even know what to say.” I flail my hands around the space, pointing to nothing and everything all at once. “This is a dream.Youare a dream.”

“One last thing,” he says, carrying me over to the door he was about to open earlier.

My heart races faster from so much excitement. “Oh Lord, what else?”

Sawyer holds me in one strong arm, reaching out and depressing the handle. When the door opens to a large closet, overhead lights come on.

The room is pristine white with the same flooring as the main garage area. But that’s not really what I’m looking at. Because I can’t look at anything else.

There, sitting in the center of the room, is a brand-new, all-black Harley-Davidson CVO Road Glide ST. She’s beautiful, stunning, perfection.

I turn to Sawyer, jaw agape.

He chuckles and kisses the underside of my chin before dropping me down to my feet. “She’s all yours, your dream bike—and if I remember correctly, my son’s too.”

My heart grows bigger, filling the space in my chest. “You’re right; it is our dream bike.”

Sawyer smiles knowingly. “Alyssa told me this model was all Ezra could talk about at a hockey game. Plus, you both spoke about a CVO when we came over to your garage at Christmas.”

I run a hand over the pristine black seat, overwhelmed by this man and his heart. “I think I want to name her.”