“Agreed, but this is something he’s been trying to do since he asked my permission. If he doesn’t do it before she goes, he’ll regret it and beat himself up for it. With Emily being an ocean away, that’s a tough regret to have. Oz is waiting for perfection and that doesn’t exist.”
Yeah, I’ll give him that. “Regret’s a bitch.”
Eli inclines his head in agreement. “That it is. Life changes fast, Isaiah. Sometimes too fast. I wish I had understood that when I was younger.” He forces a smile on his face. “You ready to head back to Cyrus’s?”
I nod, but can’t help but wonder why there’s a pit in my stomach and why my brain won’t let go of the word regret.
Chapter 37
Rachel
Nina and Eli built a small house in the woods of Cyrus’s property. It’s quaint and adorable, like stepping into a fairytale cottage, and comes equipped with modern conveniences. It’s far enough away that they have privacy, but when cold weather comes and the leaves fall away, they’ll probably be able to see the clubhouse from their front porch.
We enter the kitchen, and Nina sets the cup of coffee she had in her hand during the tour of the house on the counter. I glance out the back window and marvel at the beauty of the thick green woods. “Have you seen any deer?”
“Every morning.” Nina wears a huge smile, like someone who’s in love and happy. Every word that comes out of her mouth is complete with a flourish of her left hand—as if she subconsciously has to show the world not only her engagement ring, but the wedding band Eli gave her when they eloped in Nashville. “Eli and I watch them graze as the sun comes up.”
I have a hard time seeing the tattooed, hardcore motorcycle man being a softie for morning deer, but then again, the tattooed, hardcore man I love has a thing for stray puppies. Isaiah owns a German Shepherd mix he found as a puppy outside of Pro-Performance and a small white Shih Tzu he discovered shivering in the rain outside Taco Bell. He named the German Shepherd Mustang and he named the Shih Tzu Ford.
“How’s The Plan going?” Nina asks.
The ends of my lips turn up. That is possibly the most-asked question Isaiah and I receive when we visit the Reign of Terror. They are utterly and completely fascinated by our ten-year strategy. Most people thought we would crumble once I graduated from college last year, but we’re staying true to our dreams. “It’s going well. We have a ton of money saved up, and we’re on track to build a garage in five years. Everything will be new and shiny, and it’s going to be perfect.”
“I often wish I had your and Isaiah’s persistence and perseverance at your age. I would have graduated from college in my twenties instead of going part-time in my forties.” Nina is studying to become a therapist. She said that after years of listening to people talk about their problems while she worked as a bartender, she might as well do it for a living.
“I couldn’t wait to get out of my parents’ house when I turned eighteen,” she continues. “I wanted my independence so bad I did anything to get it. I am absolutely in awe of you.”
“Thank you.” Nina is being genuine with me. Unfortunately, I’ve heard backhanded comments about my choices for years—you’re still in college and live at home? You’re graduated and working a full-time job and still live at home?
Most times, it’s exhausting to explain. The first year of college, I lived at home and not in the dorms because I was still recovering from an accident that happened my junior year of high school. Yes, the accident and my injuries were that bad. My parents would have paid for me to live in the dorms my sophomore year, but I knew if I did that, I’d spend my money on day-to-day things, whereas if I lived at home, Mom and Dad would cover those items.
I don’t want to spend money. I want to save as much as I can, especially since Isaiah works almost twenty-four/seven to help with our dream. It only seems fair for me to make sacrifices, as well. Not that living in a mansion with maids and a kitchen staff is a sacrifice, but I am hungry for independence. My mom and dad, even though I love them and we have come to awesome understandings with each other, often forget I’m in my twenties and not twelve. At least once a month I feel so smothered that I scream into my pillow at night.
My parents are financially well-off and have offered to buy the land and build the shop for us, even telling us to consider it a loan if the idea of taking the money from them bothers us. But Isaiah and I both know that if Dad is involved, even though he means well, he’ll feel entitled to have a say in our business—and that’s not what we want. This road is a lot longer and harder than I thought it would be, but I keep reminding myself it will be worth it in the end.
Nina rearranges flowers in a vase at the counter and the sunlight catches her diamond ring again. Isaiah and I are practically engaged, but there’s no ring on my finger, nor has he dropped down on one knee. Getting married is part of The Plan, once we have enough money to build the garage, but I often consider asking for a renegotiation on.
Isaiah and I see each other often, but I’d love to see him more. I’d love to wake up in his arms every morning, instead of a couple of times a week. Instead of having a routine for me and a routine for him, we would have a routine for us. I’m ready for more, but how do I tell Isaiah?
Nina keeps fidgeting with the flowers, even ones she’s messed with several times before. I’m not best friends with Nina, but we’ve spent enough time together since Isaiah discovered the McKinleys are his blood family that I know when she’s nervous.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She sighs heavily as she quits her assault on the poor plants. “Eli won’t be happy, but I think we need your advice on something.”
I frown. None of that sounds good. “What could I help with?”
“Follow me.”
Nina crosses the kitchen and opens the door to the garage. I follow her into it and pause in awe at the motorcycle in front of me. It’s not one I’ve seen around the club before, and I have an idea of where this is headed. “Whose is it?”
“You have three good guesses and the first two don’t count.”
Isaiah—the motorcycle is for Isaiah. Wow.
“Do you think Isaiah will like it?” Nina asks me. She’s a mixture of worry, excitement and hesitation. “We know he’s into cars, but he’s a McKinley so bikes have to be in his blood somewhere. Plus, Eli and Cyrus really want Isaiah to have his father’s bike.”
“I thought Chevy had their father’s motorcycle,” I say.
“He does. James had two motorcycles. Chevy has the one his father rode, and Eli had the other. James found this one in a junk yard and was fixing it up before he died. Eli finished the job, and now Eli wants Isaiah to have it.”
Chevy and Isaiah are half-brothers, though neither knew the other existed until relatively recently. Since then, Isaiah has been slowly—slowly as in snails move faster than him—allowing them to be a part of his life.
On the other hand, whenever Isaiah’s in town, the McKinleys and the Reign of Terror Motorcycle Club follow him around like cats waiting on their food bowl. If they had their way, even though he was nineteen when they met, they would have packed him up and moved him into one of the rooms at the clubhouse or Cyrus’s house in a heartbeat.