“Uhm, that’s exactly what I want him to do, James,” Hope said, her hands on her lap like they hadn’t clutched him all night long as she’d slept. “I don’t have a lot of money. I need my car.”
“I told you I would handle it.” She didn’t seem to be understanding. Stubborn. She was awfully stubborn.
Noah groaned.
“Do you mind?” James asked. He didn’t need the peanut gallery’s opinion.
“Nope. I’m finding this intensely entertaining.” Noah craned his neck and looked around. “The place still looks the same. Wow, I missed Stella’s.”
“You are not taking charge, James.” Hope turned to him, a stubborn gleam in her eyes. “You’re not my husband, and you’re not my dad.”
“I’m damn straight not your dad, but I’m the man responsible for you.”
“What century are you in?” Hope asked, indignation evident in her tone.
He pulled his patience around him. This was why he didn’t do relationships. He was shitty at them. Cows. He understood cows. Cows didn’t yell at him when he tried to take care of them. “Look, Hope, Logan talked to me before he left. He asked me to look out for you. I agreed. That makes me responsible for you.”
“And Logan was responsible for me how?”
“Because he cares about you, Hope.”
Noah stayed silent, but he didn’t miss his brother’s shit-eating grin. Asshole probably knew exactly what to say to get her to understand, but he remained frustratingly silent.
“Well, I care about him, too.” Hope took a deep breath and went quiet.
James drove past Stella’s and Trio. He found the road that led to the Feed Store Church and went north before turning onto the side street that housed the garage, beauty parlor, a ski shop, and the post office.
“Whoa, when did Polly decide to light up the world?” Noah asked, staring at the enormous neon flashing lips that marked the site of Polly’s Cut and Curl. He watched in obvious awe as the lips blinked on and off, opening and closing in a kissing motion. “I think you can see it from space. Does Mel know that Polly’s putting out the astral equivalent of a request for an escort?”
James couldn’t help but laugh. His brother was always quick with a joke or an observation. “It was brought up at a town hall, but Mel assures everyone that aliens are far more interested in probing than kissing.” He pulled into the parking lot and had a sudden plan. If Hope wasn’t around, she couldn’t cause trouble. “Hey, Hope, why don’t you go on over to Polly’s and get your nails done? I’ll handle Roger.”
She smacked him on the arm—and not a girly slap. “Jerk.”
Noah let her out, holding her hand to help her down. Hope didn’t look back as she strode into the office, her sensible bag on her shoulder.
“What did I do?” James asked, his arm still stinging.
Noah laughed as James got out of the truck. “Man, you don’t get how to handle her at all. How long have you known her?”
“About a year. I thought she would like getting her nails done. She works a lot of overtime. I thought it would be relaxing.” Yeah, he would hide behind that.
“No, you thought it would get her out of the way, and then you could make sure her car got fixed properly and maybe make it take a little bit longer than it normally would because that means she has to stay out at the G while she’s getting it fixed. You were thinking it might make her dependent on you, and then you’d have a better shot at her.”
His brother knew him way too well. “I thought it was a good plan.”
“It is. I agree wholeheartedly, but you’re going about it all wrong. You’re expecting her to be compliant, and that little filly is anything but compliant. We have to be sneaky.”
“You have a plan?” James hated to ask, but Noah was always good with a plan. Noah had been the brains behind their operation.
“Yep. Follow my lead. When the time comes, distract her while I explain to Roger that we’ll handle the bill, and he should take his time and do it up right.”
Tag team. Damn it, it made sense. “Fine. Our dads never had this trouble with Mom. When did you get so sneaky?”
Noah frowned, a line appearing between his brows. “I learned from the best.”
Ally. They were going to have to talk about Ally. Noah wasn’t going away. Hell, James couldn’t even get away from his brother when he was in bed. Though it had been nice when Noah made coffee. “Sorry about the divorce. Is it final?”
They started walking toward the office after Noah gave Butch the command to stay. “It’s final. We divorced six months ago, but the marriage has been over for years. You were right about her. I was a fool.”
He didn’t like the defeat in his brother’s voice. Despite his anger at Noah, he was still his kid brother. Hope was right. Noah was his family. “So you decided to come back to Bliss because Stef gave you a job? I assume it was Stef who said you could have a job. Or did you just show up and hope for the best?”
Noah’s jaw straightened. “Stef hired me. And I can find a place to stay. Even if I have to live in Creede.”
James pushed through the doors of the shop. “It’s your home, too.”
“Are you sure?” The question came out of Noah’s mouth in a flat monotone that told James his brother wasn’t at all sure what his answer would be.
His mother would have his ass if he told his baby brother he couldn’t stay in his childhood home. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Just stay away from Hope.”
“Not going to happen, Jamie. You need me. She needs me. Bitch all you like, but you need me.”
They turned the corner. James was just about to explain that he needed Noah like he needed a damn hole in his head when he stopped at the sight in front of him. Oh, he needed something all right.
He needed his baseball bat. That was what he needed. He was really shocked by the flare of righteous indignation that shot through his system. Hope stood in the middle of the garage floor, but she wasn’t anywhere close to being alone. She was surrounded by two large men, both flirting outrageously with her.
Yeah, he would need his brother because he was about to start a fight.
“Who the fuck are they?” Noah asked, his voice low. “Wasn’t Roger’s mechanic a big old hefty dude with a mullet?”
The new mechanics weren’t close to hefty. They were both well over six feet and probably didn’t have an ounce of fat between them. One had longish brown hair and a scruffy beard, while the other’s black hair was shorter and his face clean. But Clean Shaven Dude had a problem with shirts. He’d taken his off. Hope smiled up at the guy, a softness on her face James hadn’t seen in a long time.
“We’re going to have to find another shop,” Noah said.
“So you think it’s fixable?” Hope asked, her eyes spending too much time on Scruffy Guy’s shoulders.
“Absolutely, love. Me and Cade here can fix just about anything with wheels.”
“He’s being humble.” Cade winked down at her. “We can fix anything. We’ve got a gentle touch.”
They were about to have two busted lips. “Hope, you want to introduce us to your friends?”
There was no way to mistake the mischief in Hope’s eyes. “Friends? Really, James. These are the mechanics working on my car. Jesse McCann and Cade Sinclair. We were just discussing how long it might take to get it back.”
“Hey,” a new voice said. Long-Haired Roger walked in, his coveralls covered in oil. “No one told me we had company. Cade? What is wrong with you? Where the hell is your shirt, son?”
Cade grinned, but picked back up his T-shirt and shrugged into it. “Anything you say, boss. We were just telling Miss Hope here that her electrical system is shot.”