“You’re not scared Caroline’s going to catch you with Adelaide while she has paint under her fingernails? She and Pigpen will be home soon.”
“That’s easy. I’ll remind Caroline you were the one babysitting.”
“Some friend you are,” I mumble, and Chevy laughs again as he takes the washcloth from me.
“Who’s taking a bath?” Chevy coos at Adelaide as if he’s not over six feet tall and close to two hundred pounds of muscle—one hundred percent McKinley, dark brown eyes and hair included. “Does Adelaide like her bath?” A master magician, he waves his fingers in the air and then produces a miniature rubber duck out of thin air. Adelaide cackles. “See, she wants me.”
“Because you bribed her with a duck.”
Chevy grins from ear to ear as he hands the little paint monster the toy. “You should get moving and clean Eli’s bike. Or are you going to use this horrific event as an excuse to coward out and not ask Emily again?”
The glare I throw him should leave him shaking in his black boots. “You’re a—”
He mock covers Adelaide’s ears. “There’s a baby.” Then uncovers them and coos at her again, “Uncle Oz is a coward.” Chevy glances at me and motions near his cheek. “You’ve got paint on you.”
Because when I snatched Adelaide off the ground and away from Eli’s bike, she decided to start painting me. The words I really want to say definitely aren’t baby appropriate, so as I walk out of the bathroom, I flip him a bird that’s not a duck.
I grab towels, head out of Cyrus’s house, and cross the yard to the front of the clubhouse, to where Eli’s motorcycle is parked. I groan at the damage. “Damn,” I say, running a hand through my hair. It’s a hot day and the smeared paint’s dried.
As I contemplate the ways Eli’s going to peel the skin off my body, my cell vibrates in my back pocket. I take it out and find a text from Emily: Just finished my last final, my car is packed and I’m on my way to you!!!
Me: Congrats and I love you. Be safe on the drive. Maybe you can convince your dad to leave me alive long enough to propose to you.
Emily: I will and I love you back!
Suddenly, my front pocket becomes heavy. In it is a small box. In that box is an even smaller diamond ring. Paying for college—even by going part-time—plus paying for rent and just meeting everyday needs, I don’t have a lot to offer Emily.
Emily, my Emily. Long chestnut hair, dark eyes like a doe, and the most beautiful girl in the world. She’s intelligent, kind, vivacious, and she’s going to become a doctor.
When I first met Emily, she was bold, but she had so many fears. Fear of change, fear of leaving home, fear that loving Eli, her biological dad, would affect her relationship with her adoptive father, and a fear of dead bodies. Now Emily fears close to nothing and will be attending medical after she graduates from college. She wants to be a pediatrician—just like her adoptive father.
She’s heading here tonight, dropping off the boxes from her dorm, and then flying home to her mom and dad on Monday. After that she’ll go to Europe for a year—to travel with her folks and then to study abroad. I’ve had this ring for a month, and I’ve planned several different ways to get down on one knee, but life keeps getting in the way.
My first idea was to propose during our weekend trip to the Smoky Mountains with Chevy, Violet, Breanna, and Razor, but then Emily came down with bronchitis. Instead, I held her in bed while she alternated between watching TV and sleeping. Idea number two was to propose at her favorite restaurant. I made plans to put the ring in her favorite dessert, chocolate cake, but then Eli announced that he and Nina, Chevy’s mom, were going to elope in Nashville that weekend, and he wanted us all there to watch them tie the knot. Proposing to Emily during her father’s wedding felt rude, so I held off.
Then life got busy. Emily goes to school an hour away. I go to the same school two days a week, then do the rest of my classes online. She works, I work. I student teach, she’s had internships. We see each other, but for fleeting moments.
The new plan is to take Emily to the overlook to pop the question. The problem is that while I’ve asked Emily to go with me there tonight, she hasn’t agreed yet, telling me that we will if we have enough time. That’s the problem. Time is the enemy.
Yeah, I understand why she’s hesitant to go away with me. Violet and Chevy are coming in for the summer from college, Isaiah and Rachel are coming in from Louisville, and Razor and Breanna are driving in from the northeast. It’s going to be the first time in months we’ve all been together, but I need this time with her. I want to ask her to be my wife.
The question is, will there be time, and if there is, will Eli kill me for what I’ve done to his bike? Even better question—will Emily say yes?
Chapter 36
Isaiah
I love working on any car, but I prefer the classics. There’s something genius about the simplicity of an older car. It never fails to amaze me that something made over fifty years ago, with a few tweaks along the way, can still roar with the power of a lion when I hit the gas.
One of the best parts of having family in the Reign of Terror Motorcycle Club is that these men love machines nearly as much as I do. They share a love affair with two wheels, while my desires lie mainly with the four-wheeled version, but most of the guys own, along with a motorcycle or two, a beautiful four-wheeled machine.
My favorite is this one—a 1964 Chevelle. It packs a 300-horsepower, 327-cubic-inch V8. She’s gorgeous, and she belongs to Violet, my half-brother Chevy’s girlfriend. Afraid, with good reason, that it’s going to be scratched or stolen at her college, Violet only drives the car when she’s home, and the last time she was home, she heard a rattling under the hood. I changed a few belts and now the Chevelle’s running almost as good as when she was driven off the line over fifty years ago.
Eli, my uncle, leans back against the wall of Hook’s garage with his arms crossed over his chest. Hook—Razor’s dad—and Cyrus—my grandfather—are standing near the hood of the car, inspecting, with awe, my work. Cyrus constantly tells me I have a gift. There isn’t much about me I’ll brag about, but when it comes to my knowledge of cars, I don’t disagree.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, I rev the engine one more time just to hear that beautiful purr, then twist the key to turn the engine off. I ease out of the car, shut the door, and toss the key to Eli. “She’s as good as new.”
“Thanks.” Eli snatches the key out of the air. The muscles in his arms ripple with the motion, causing the stars tattooed there to wave. The man might be one of the few in the world who can match me in skin ink. “What do we owe you?”
“Something to drink?” I ask.
“I got it,” Cyrus says, and Hook follows him in to the house.
“Besides water,” Eli says. “What do I owe you?”
“Same as last time.” Chevy’s my brother. Violet is the women he loves. That’s family, and I don’t charge family.
“We’d feed you and Rachel without you working on a car,” Eli says. “The least we can do is give you something for your time.”