Page 38

Chapter 38

McCoy

“Crazy to think it’s almost all over,” Coy called to her father from behind her safety mask. They were in her auto body shop, and the almost completely finished McLaren sat before them in all her glory. Over half of her had been rebuilt to one degree or another, from the new tub and engine to hammering out dents from exterior parts that could be reused. The windshield had been installed two weeks before, and after a lot of groveling, Coy had convinced Sawyer to let her tow the McLaren across the city to be repainted. So here she was, after a week of priming and sanding and then painting, they were finally on their final coat of paint.

Greg patted Coy on the back. “You did a great job on this one, kid.”

“Thanks, Pops,” Coy grinned, patting him on the back as well. They remained in the semi-embrace for several moments, staring at the McLaren in silence. Come that time tomorrow, the incredible supercar painted the exact shade of yellow it was before the accident, would be sitting, completed, in her parking lot. Despite Coy’s suggestion of going with a new look, Sawyer wouldn’t hear of it. And, which didn’t come as a surprise, once Sawyer had her mind set on something, it was hard to sway her opinion. Instead, she’d rather push someone away or hold them at arm’s length if she felt they were coming too close to swaying her on anything.

And fuck, did it hurt whoever was on the receiving end.

She might not admit it, but I know she loves me. She’s just the most stubborn fucking woman in existence.

Two days had passed since she’d spent the night with Sawyer. It was becoming a regular occurrence for Sawyer to disappear and avoid Coy after each progression in their relationship. Processing, Bree called it when Coy had texted her that morning to pout. Sawyer needed time to process and to decompress. And Coy understood that. She genuinely did, but what was wrong with her wanting to be there to help Sawyer through it? Her friends had that. Hell, Abi was helping Tess through panic attacks and dousing her with self-love every time Coy turned around. And Taunya had lucked out in finding a guy who’d fallen in love with her while holding her hair back to puke, of all things. There was nothing Derek wouldn’t do for Taunya.

Why was Coy so attracted to strong, independent, withdrawn women? Would Sawyer ever let her in emotionally, or would five years pass like they had with Frankie, only for it all to be a waste?

“Is the plan still to keep the McLaren here for the weekend and deliver it to Sawyer’s house first of the week?” Greg asked, pouring more paint into the waiting canister.

“Yeah. I mean. it was.” Coy frowned, thinking back on her unanswered texts. Sawyer had left her on read since yesterday. It was confusing and likely something Abi would find disrespectful if she knew, but Coy couldn’t help thinking it was at least partially her fault.

Who was Brian?

It was what she’d asked Sawyer after pulling her from a nightmare two nights ago. She wished she had impulse control, she really did, because even she knew launching questions at her lover when Sawyer was vulnerable was the equivalent of driving down a speedway blindfolded.

But who was Brian? Coy was dying to know. He’d have to have been important enough that Sawyer was weeping in her sleep. A heavy, highly uncomfortable feeling had settled over Coy, and since then, the sensation had only deepened. A part of her didn’t want to know, and yet, a part of her needed to.

“Let’s get back at it. You coming for supper tonight? Miranda’s making chicken alfredo,” Greg said and rubbed his belly like he was already picturing the heaping plate.

“Nah, I can’t. I’m meeting Sloane at the pub.”

Greg fastened the hose attachment to his newly filled paint gun. “Things better between you?”

Coy shrugged, reaching up to wipe sweat off her brow. “Define better. Am I wanting to choke her every time I see her? Not currently. Are we like we used to be? Hell no.”

“She’s your sister, Coy. You know how Sloane is. She’s always struggled being apart from you.”

“Doesn’t make what she did right.”

“No, it doesn’t. But go easy on her. Sloane’s not like you, Coy. She won’t come out and say she needs or misses you. She could be drowning, and no one would ever know.”

Something about that didn’t sit right with Coy. It was true, and damn if it didn’t sound a little like Sawyer. What was wrong with simply talking things out instead of running in circles all the time?

At eight the following morning, Coy chose all red roses this time. In the attached card she wrote, “I love you because …” and offered up five reasons why Sawyer had stolen her heart and soul. Poetic and mushy as shit, but apparently, love made her a little like both of those things. “Thank you,” she told the florist after paying. Leaving the shop, she grimaced up at the dark thunder clouds looming in the sky. The forecast was calling for rain all weekend around the province, which wasn’t unusual for Vancouver weather, but it would affect her biking plans in Squamish with Sloane. They were scheduled to do another vlog, but perhaps Frankie would let them do a bartending special instead. It’d been a while since their fans had seen the twins side by side.

Abi appeared beside her, slipping her hand in Coy’s. “You know you could deliver them yourself.”

Coy tsked, reaching across with her free hand to tap Abi on the nose. “That’s not how you give someone space, Abs.”

“Yeah, well, avoiding the person you’re sleeping with isn’t great either,” she grumped, and the sour look on her face lasted until they’d reached the supercar parked at the curb. “I can’t believe we’re driving this.”

“ I’m driving this. You, Abs, are my passenger princess. Hey!” Coy laughed when Abi swatted her on the ass.

“Well, if I’m a princess, then open my door for me,” Abi countered with a saucy toss of her hair over one shoulder. A grin appeared. “I can’t figure out how to operate the damn thing.”

“Sure thing, beautiful, but hold still real quick.” Whipping out her cell, Coy swiped open the camera app and directed it toward Abi. Her bestie was standing next to the car with the hood of her raincoat already up to protect her hair. Coy took a picture, explaining, “I’m gonna send this to Sawyer. She hasn’t seen the car finished yet.”

“It’s still super odd to spend all that money rebuilding it,” Abi commented as Coy helped her inside the vehicle. As Coy slid into the driver’s seat, her bestie looked at her with one finely groomed eyebrow arched. “You ever get the answers from her?”

“No, and I won’t pry. Sawyer is … like an onion, okay? I’ve gotta peel layers back one at a time. You don’t just stab into the middle of an onion and expect it to still thrive. It’ll wither quicker, and that’s definitely not what I want to happen with our relationship.”

Abi’s answering smile was soft, contemplative. “That has to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say. When did you become such a relationship expert?”

“I’m not.” Coy shrugged and flashed a grin. “I just know Sawyer.”

Driving the McLaren—really driving it, not just up and down the block where her shop was—was a fantasy come to life for Coy. She probably shouldn’t have passengers in it since she was technically working, but she had to show off the car at least once before Sawyer came to claim it. What she did with it then, Coy could only guess. For all she knew, Olivier had put it in his will that she sell it or gift it to Bree. But that didn’t make sense either, considering Sawyer’s explosion the day she’d seen her daughter in the car.

After dropping Abi off at the office, Coy continued on to Richmond, pleased as punch anytime someone gawked at her during a red light. So what if she’d dressed her best this morning, just so she looked like she could really own a beauty like the McLaren? She fully expected her pops to shake his head when he saw her, and the man did not disappoint.

“You’re too much, Coy,” Greg laughed when she pulled up beside him in the parking lot.

“Just enough, Pops, just enough,” Coy joked and continued past the main shop to her shop in the back parking lot. She wanted to fix the alignment again and tighten the brakes before she delivered it to Sawyer, but there was still time. Today, she had to repair a sedan that had recently been in a fender bender and also help her dad in the main shop. Hopefully, her role as an auto body technician would eventually garner enough clientele that they could hire another mechanic.

Parking the McLaren off to the side of her shop, Coy pocketed the keys and returned to where Greg was waiting. They, along with Chip and J.D., worked steadily all morning. It wasn’t until Coy checked her phone during her lunch break that she saw Bree’s text message.

Bree: Maman got your flowers … it’s not a good day for that. I’m sorry.

Bree: I wish I could explain things, but it’s not my place.

Bree: We were baking and she just grabbed her keys and left. Maybe she went to see him :(

“What’s going on?” Coy muttered, taking another bite of sandwich as she pulled up Sawyer’s contact info and pressed the call button. It rang and rang before finally going to voicemail. An odd churning sensation began low in Coy’s stomach, and she quickly reread Bree’s last message. Who was “him?” Had she meant Olivier’s gravesite? And how could a bouquet of roses set Sawyer off?

J.D. burst into Greg’s office, his gaze sliding past Coy’s to her father’s. “Ah, Uncle? You might wanna turn that on,” he rushed out, pointing to the surveillance monitor in the corner of Greg’s cramped office.

“It still works?” Coy wondered, stuffing another bite into her mouth. She needed to reach Sawyer and figure this mess out. How was it possible to vibe with someone so well one day and feel completely disconnected the next?

“There!” J.D. exclaimed, tapping the camera image that faced the back parking lot and Coy’s shop. “Someone’s out there fucking up the McLaren.”

“What?” Coy dropped her sandwich on the office desk and jumped from her seat to take a closer look. “Holy fuck.” The image was grainy, but she’d recognize the woman anywhere. She bolted for the door, shouting over her shoulder as she went, “Turn the camera off. And Pops, block off the lot so no one can get up there.”

She only had one thought as she raced from the shop and into the pouring rain.

Sawyer .