“Tell me why the hell you’re assuming my business is for sale?”
“Your business?” he says, raising his brows. “I thought it belonged to Robert Peterson and you’re just filling in?”
“It does,” I say through gritted teeth. “But right now, he’s out of action so I’m running it. I’m his daughter.”
His eyes flicker over me, and I shift uneasily. “Well, it would appear you’re in some trouble then, wouldn’t it?”
“Hey,” Jace says, stepping into the office and up to my side. “Back off.”
Tazen gives him a bored expression, as if he’s no more than an annoying fly buzzing around in his space, then turns back to me. I get in before he can.
“You have your wires crossed, it is not for sale. Now, can you please leave?”
He looks up to the front door, then back to me again. “You’re in a prime position here, investors are piling up to take over this garage. It might be a shit heap but with a bit of money poured into it, it could be amazing. I have money and there are a hell of a lot of car enthusiasts around this area. Not to mention some of the biggest races around the world come here every year—it’s a gold mine and therefore a perfect location to open another shop of mine.”
A lump forms in my throat but I keep it together, saying dryly, “It is my garage and until that changes, you’re on my property and I want you to leave.”
He shrugs. “I’ll leave, but it won’t be for long. I’m making an offer on this place this afternoon.”
“This is my home,” I whisper, angrily.
His eyes soften slightly.
“And I’m sorry for that, but business is business, Quinn.”
“Are we done here?” I mutter.
His eyes grow dark and I swallow down the lump forming in my throat. “We’re done for now.”
“Go to hell.”
He smiles at my sass, flashing those killer dimples. Damn him for being beautiful. “Angel, hell is for the weak. And if there’s one thing I am not, it’s weak.”
This guy is pissing me off.
“Leave.”
He gives me a lazy, lopsided grin that makes my heart pound.
“Afternoon, Pixie.”
With that, he turns and strides out. When he’s gone, I turn to Jace, who is watching him go. “Was that,” he swallows with wide eyes, “Tazen Watts?”
“Yes,” I mutter. “It certainly was.”
“Tazen Watts…” he breathes. “Holy fuck. He is only the best custom car builder … ever.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“You should have gone over and just held him, at least for a few seconds. He’s a god. You love his show.”
“I loved his show. Now I want to stab him.”
Jace turns to me, biting his lip to stop the laughter. I point a finger at him. “Don’t. I have to call the bank. If he’s right, we’re in trouble.”
His face falls.
“Jesus, Quinn.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, staring out the door.
If we lose this garage, we lose everything.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author Bella Jewel is a fun-loving Australian who lives with her husband and two playful daughters. She’s been writing since she was fifteen, and has written a broad range of stories, with wild characters ranging from bikers to pirates. When she’s not writing, she’s kicking about on dirt bikes or riding horses. Bella has many more books planned for the future.
Visit her at bellajewelbooks.com. You can sign up for email updates here.