Then he’d woken up to an empty bed. She’d run scared.

He’d tried patient, and he wasn’t a patient man. She’d ignored his calls. Avoided him. It didn’t matter what he did or said. She wouldn’t let him in. That would mean accepting the truth, accepting the way she felt about him, allowing herself to believe that he could actually have feelings for her. She wouldn’t willingly expose herself to that kind of pain and heartbreak.

Not again. Not after the way he’d screwed up last time.

Forcing her to confront those feelings now was a risk, but one he had to take. He knew her well enough to know if he tried to sit her down, tell her how he felt about her—she’d run scared. There was no doubt in his mind. And he’d lose her for good.

That couldn’t happen.

He was desperate. He was also out of options. If she couldn’t figure it out for herself, it was time to clue her in.

She belonged to him. They belonged together.

He’d known she’d come to him all guns blazing when she got his letter, had banked on it. He stood and slipped on his jacket, taking his time going after her. She wasn’t going anywhere.

West Restoration, the garage Alex was trying to save—the one he had no intention of selling—was located on Axle Alley. A street in an industrial area, just out of the city, lined with businesses that catered to anything with an engine. In their teens, the local boys had dubbed Alex and Deacon’s sisters the Axle Alley Vipers. All three were beautiful, tough in their own way, and if you tried to get too close, tried to touch, they would take a bite out of you.

Jesus. Nothing had changed.

When he got to the parking garage below his building, he saw Martin had done his job. Deacon’s car was parked behind Alex’s metallic-purple Viper, caging her in.

Her choice of car said more than he thought she realized. Playing up to that moniker, to what it meant, was just another way to keep everyone at a distance, to protect herself.

She stood against the driver’s door, arms crossed, more pissed than he’d ever seen her. Her long, shiny brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun that was sexy as hell on her, and those dark, exotic eyes had landed and stayed on him as soon as the elevator doors had opened and he’d stepped out.

His cock twitched under that intense stare.

He allowed his gaze to travel over her. Did she have any idea how stunning she was? The woman could wear a potato sack and still make his dick hard. The intricate rose tattoo decorating the upper half of her right arm drew his eye. It covered a jagged scar you could only see under a certain light, and it moved as she shoved her hands in her pockets, flexing her finely honed bicep. “This your doing?” she asked.

He kept on walking toward her. She tensed as he came closer, but he didn’t stop until he was close enough to smell her vanilla scent, hear her subtle exhale as he leaned in. “You were in my parking spot.”

Fire flashed in her eyes. “Bullshit. What about the other ten free spots?”

He shrugged. “I like this one.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “If you’re so damned attached to this one, let me out and you can have it back.”

He reached out, ran the tip of his finger along that scar. It curved around a rose petal, then joined a thorny stem. He felt her tremble. Jesus, he loved that, loved how easily he affected her. “Let’s stop playing games. This isn’t about a parking spot, and you know it.”

“I said no.” Her voice shook and her breathing quickened.

“I won’t accept that answer. Not yet.” Not ever. “I want you to think about it first. Really think about it. We’re good together. Tell me you’ve had better. Because I haven’t.”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “You were grieving. Your perception is skewed.”

It took all his strength not to kiss her. “Yes, I was grieving. But that wasn’t the only reason we ended up in bed together, and you know it. You wanted me, and I sure as hell wanted you. Still do. It’s really as simple as that.”

And if he was wrong, if she didn’t return his feelings? He’d walk away. It would kill him to do it, but despite what he’d said to her, they both knew he’d never force her into a relationship, sexual or otherwise. Not ever.

She hugged herself. “Why are you doing this? And why now, after all this time?”

He noted she didn’t deny what he’d said, didn’t deny wanting him. Thank fuck. “Why have you avoided me for six months?” he asked instead of answering her.

She bit her lip. “I haven’t.”

“You’re full of it.”

“Move your damn car. We’re busy at work, and I need to get back.”

“Alex…”

“Let me go, Deke.”

Not going to happen. He’d done it once, and it had been the biggest mistake of his life. “Is the idea of spending time with me, of sharing my bed, so distasteful?”

She shook her head. “Can you hear yourself? You’ve lost it. Jesus. Can you just stop?”

Never. He stepped back. “For now, but I’ll be in touch soon.”

…

Alex leaned her hip against Piper’s desk and looked through the partition window out to the workshop. Monday was definitely off to a better start than Friday. She hadn’t seen or heard from Deacon over the weekend, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

“What’s happening?” Piper asked.

“She’s smiling. Our girl’s working her magic. Oh, he’s going in for the handshake.” She squeezed Piper’s shoulder. “Holy shit, I think she did it.”

Piper did a silent happy dance in her swivel chair and squealed under her breath. “Oh my God, that one job alone will pay for half the new tow truck. And he’s talking several big restorations.”

The guy turned and left, and Rusty tightened her long auburn ponytail, spun on her boot, and attempted to walk casually to the office, while grinning like a loon on the verge of busting out in a victory dance.

She walked in and shut the door behind her. All three of them turned to look out the window and watched Mr. Cannon climb into his car and drive away. As soon as his car was out of sight, they all screamed and danced around the office, laughing until tears were running down their faces.

“We did it, bitches!” Rusty flopped down, planting her ass in Piper’s chair, and pumped one of her brightly tattooed arms in the air.

“I think the long legs and nice rack can take some of the credit,” Piper said, giggling.

“Well, Rusty’s rack might have helped us get the job, but when that car drives out of here looking freaking amazing, it will be our talent that has him bringing in the next one. They’ll be moving advertisements, ladies,” Alex said.

They were at a disadvantage not being set up on South Beach, where all the established big-name car restoration businesses were, but they didn’t want to leave Axle Alley. And even if they did, SoBe was way out of their price range. Their only option was to bring the customers to them. And if the novelty of an all-female-run auto repair shop was enough to do that, they’d work it for all it was worth.

Piper grinned, all but busting out of her skin. “This is just the start of the big-money restoration work. It’s finally happening.” She grabbed Rusty’s hand and tugged her out of the chair, then pulled her and Alex in for a group hug. “I wish Dad was here to see this. He’d be so proud of us.”

They clung to each other, and Alex’s eyes started to sting. Jacob West had been like a father to her, too. She’d loved him and loved this old garage as much as Rusty and Piper did.

She hadn’t mentioned her meeting with Deacon. He obviously hadn’t told them about his plans to sell the business out from under them yet. God, she was glad she’d kept it to herself. They’d already lost their father, and they loved their brother more than anything. Losing this place would kill them.

She watched the two women who had become her family after her own was taken from her. The excitement on their faces made her chest hurt. How would she ever survive without them, without seeing them every day? Without walking into this place every morning?