Page 10 of Fixed (Spicy Bites #2)

SETH

I walk through the shop early Friday morning, checking things out. It’s payroll day, which used to mean I’d spend most of the morning in the office, wading through a swamp of invoices and timecards.

But that isn’t the case anymore. My little Sassy Pants has taken over the office.

Frankie’s been running the business side of Prestige Motors for a couple of weeks now, and for the first time since I took over this place, I don’t dread opening my inbox.

I don’t have to chase down the insurance guy or call six different parts suppliers to find out who’s bullshitting me the least.

I should be suspicious. I should be terrified by how much I already rely on her. Instead, I’m just… happy. It’s a weird feeling.

Last week, we sent Sparkie off to the junkyard in the sky since fixing her was going to cost more than she was worth.

Frankie refused to even consider letting me buy her a new car, so I bought myself a brand-new Mercedes SUV.

Luckily, it only took me a few days and several orgasms to convince her to “borrow” my new SUV when she needs a vehicle.

The lift lights are on in the main bay, and I hear Tyler’s voice even before I see his legs sticking out from under the Bentley that’s been giving him hell all week.

“Morning, boss!” he shouts, banging his forehead on the chassis as he sits up.

“Morning, sunshine,” I shoot back, grabbing a rag to wipe the condensation off the snap-on toolbox. “How’s the British mistress today?”

He groans. “Every time I fix one leak, three more appear. It’s like the world’s most expensive game of Whack-a-Mole.”

“That’s why we charge them double,” I say, and he laughs, which means he’s already forgotten about the bruise he’ll be sporting on his temple.

In the next bay over, Jim O’Connor is hunched over the open guts of a transmission. He glances up as I pass, eyes like a bear coming out of hibernation. “You look like shit, Seth.”

“I’ve never felt better, Big Jim.”

He grins, rolling his eyes. “All these sleepless nights are going to catch up with you one day.” Maybe so, but not anytime soon.

I’ll forfeit a little sleep to spend more time with my girl.

My mind flashes back to what kept me up last night.

Frankie, riding me like she wanted to snap my spine, then lying beside me in the dark, talking about everything and nothing until I lost track of who I even was before her. “Someday, but not today,” I mutter.

He smirks, then jerks his head at the work order on his clipboard. “Got the McFarland rebuild scheduled for today.”

I take a long, slow breath. “Don’t let me keep you from that.”

He barks a laugh, already back to wrenching.

It’s not even seven when I climb the stairs to my office.

The place smells like fresh coffee and vanilla, all fucking Frankie.

She’s in my chair, feet up on my desk, squinting at a spreadsheet on the giant monitor.

She’s wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt that says NOPE.

NOT TODAY. Her hair’s twisted up in a messy knot, and she looks like a fucking angel who’s never heard of sleep.

“Hey, boss,” she says, not bothering to turn around. “You want the good news, the bad news, or the news that will make you want to take a long walk off a short pier?”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “Hit me with all three.”

She rattles them off like it’s a script.

“Good news. Payroll is set, and the new system actually works. Bad news. The IRS thinks we owe them another thirty-four hundred for last quarter, which is bullshit, but I’ll handle it.

Now, the really stupidly ugly news. The delivery guy crashed into our dumpster and wants us to cover his deductible, which I told him to pound sand. ”

I nod, genuinely impressed. “You’ve been busy, Sassy Pants.”

She stretches, slow and smug. “I know.” My cock turns to stone when she stands and slowly walks over to me. “I deserve a little treat for all my hard work.” My brain completely malfunctions when she reaches between us to give my cock a squeeze.

I’m just about to lock the goddamn door and give her a treat when there’s a loud disturbance out in the shop.

“Stay here,” I tell Frankie as I rush out, locking the office door behind me.

There’s a tall, broad-shouldered asshole in a suit that probably cost more than the tools in the entire shop.

He scans the garage with all the warmth of a shark casing a beach full of seal pups.

Even from a hundred feet away, I know exactly who it is.

The family resemblance is too strong to deny it.

Frankie’s brother. Fucking hell. My day was going great until this.

I watch as he marches through the bays, not bothering to sidestep the oil stains or the puddles from the car wash station.

The mechanics freeze, tools in midair. Even Jim looks up, eyebrows knitted.

The guy moves like he’s in the goddamn Secret Service, scanning every corner of my domain for a threat.

I square my shoulder, preparing for the fight of my life as I walk up to him. “How may I help you?”

“You can tell me where my sister is. Frankie Foxworth,” he adds unnecessarily and gives me a stare I’m pretty sure is meant to make me cower in the corner, but I stare right back without flinching. “She stopped returning my calls a couple of weeks ago.”

“I’ll see if she wants to talk to you.” It’s up to her. I’m ready to get this family shit out of the way so we can get on with the rest of our lives, but it’s totally up to her.

“I’ll take care of it myself.” He tries to walk past me, but I step right in his path.

“I said I’ll have Frankie call you.” This fucker isn’t getting past me.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” he grits through his perfect pearly whites.

“Not happening.” I stand my ground and suddenly sense my girl’s presence. “I told you to stay in the office,” I grumble as she walks up and slides between us.

“Good luck getting her to listen,” the asshole breathes under his breath.

“What the heck, Ben?” Frankie smacks him on the shoulder. “You’re making a scene in our business. Not cool.”

“Our business?” He blinks several times. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Come to the office and I’ll explain.” My girl turns and heads to the office with both of us following.

“Where’s the popcorn?” Big Jim mumbles as we pass, and I realize they won’t be getting any work done while this plays out. Nosy fuckers.

Ben trails behind me, but it’s Frankie who sets the pace, her sneakers making no sound even as the air ripples with her fury.

She doesn’t bother to check if we’re behind her; she already knows we are.

When we reach the office, she grabs the door handle, shoves it open, and stands right in the center of the room, arms crossed tightly as she stares at her brother.

“You want to tell me why you just tried to body-check my boyfriend in his own shop?” she says, voice flat.

Ben steps in, and I close the door behind us. He sweeps the office with those calculating, predatory politician’s eyes, already searching for the upper hand. “Why’d you stop returning my calls and texts, Frankie?”

She rolls her eyes so hard I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. “I was busy, Ben. Living my own life. Not everyone is required to file a daily briefing with the Foxworth family command center.”

He crosses his arms, lips curling. “It’s been two goddamn weeks.”

“I’ve been goddamn busy,” she snarks back.

“It doesn’t take that long to call and explain that to me,” Ben says, voice silk-wrapped steel. He’s unable to mask the hurt, and I actually feel a little bad for him.

Frankie notices it, too. She blows out a breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I really have been busy.”

The sibling stare-down is epic. Eventually, Ben turns to me, appraising. There’s a glint of challenge in his eyes, and I meet it head-on.

“You’re Seth Rutherford,” he says. Not a question.

“And you’re the brother I’ve heard so much about,” I say, offering my hand.

I decide to save us all some time. “Look. You’re worried about your sister.

That’s fair. But she’s not some problem to be managed, and I’m not here to get between the two of you.

Unless you make me.” I let that hang in the air, just long enough to see if he’ll bite.

Ben cracks a smile that’s sharp around the edges. “You cut to the point. I like that, but I’ll take you out if you hurt my sister.”

“I would cut my arm off before I hurt her. I love your sister.” No use beating around the bush.

Ben stares into my eyes, searching. “You’re in love with my sister?”

I don’t even blink. “That’s right.” Ben studies me, maybe looking for a sign of weakness or hesitation. “I don’t plan to ever let her go,” I say, and I mean every syllable.

Ben leans against the glass wall, arms folded. “She isn’t going to let you walk all over her,” he tells me like that’s some kind of dealbreaker.

“That’s okay. I’m going to let her walk all over me,” I say, and Frankie snorts loudly.

Ben’s poker face is legendary, but I see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Pussy-whipped motherfucker.” He shakes his head, then turns to Frankie. “And you want this? Are you happy?”

She rolls her eyes, but her voice is warm. “For the first time in years.”

Ben nods slowly and turns back to me. “Okay. I get it. But if you hurt her, I’ll make sure they never find your body.” It’s not a threat, just a fact.

I nod respectfully. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ben sighs and turns to his sister. “Just don’t disappear on me again. I know Mom and Dad are nightmares, but you’ve got me.”

She’s blinking back tears. I pretend not to notice as I offer, “Would you like to come by our house for dinner tonight?”

Ben checks his watch and shakes his head. “I can’t. I have to get back to Austin by two. Maybe we can arrange a dinner once my schedule clears.”

“You let us know when you have time.” The ball’s in his court now.