A Restored Man (3 page)

Aidan dug into his plate of food and took his time chewing each mouthful at least a thousand times, all while intensely staring at Cole. Finally, after about ten minutes of torture, Aidan rose from the table and rinsed out his dish in the sink. "Let's go," he said, drying his hands on the towel before walking out the kitchen and leaving through the back door.

Cole sighed. "Are you guys coming with us?"
Please. Oh God, please. Don't leave me alone with Aidan.

"Nope," Julian said.

Cole looked upward, hoping for some higher power to grant him the patience he needed to survive one hour with Aidan. He squared his shoulders and began to walk toward the back door as if ready to face a firing squad. He stopped mid-step when Julian grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him closer.

"Before you speak, just pause. Okay?"

Cole tried to nod.

"Take a moment to play back what you're going to say. If it sounds iffy, keep your trap shut and don't say it. Got it?"

"But what if it all sounds fine to me?" Cole asked.

Julian shook his head and nudged Cole toward the back door. "Then I'll pray for you."

Cole reluctantly took each step. He was going to meet his new boss tonight before, hopefully, starting tomorrow.

Aidan's brother. Another Calloway.
Wonderful.
He hadn't thought that through well enough when Aidan suggested the job, obviously blinded by the thought of working on cars again.

He missed that.

The job, well, it wasn't as if he had many choices. Hell, the last job he had—the third who had hired him while at HH—called Matt at lunch time on that first day to demand he withdraw his employment from the program.

He exited the back door and made his way to Aidan's SUV. Maybe he could harness some type of superpower and garner himself some common sense for an hour. That was all he needed. One precious hour of not saying or doing anything stupid.

Maybe he could manage that.

Miracles
can
happen.

Cole looked out of the corner of his eye at Aidan's tight grip on the steering wheel. He knew better than to open his mouth and risk saying something—anything—that would set Aidan off. For some reason, Aidan was on edge. Sure, he was a no-nonsense type of guy who hated to waste his time, and being Cole's personal chauffeur for the night probably wasn't sitting well with him, but something else was off. He was holding something back that was pushing every one of his
I'm-about-to-blow
buttons. Cole sat quietly in the passenger seat and waited for some cue from him before saying or doing anything.

"Be careful with that mouth of yours," Aidan finally said through gritted teeth, breaking the silence.

Cole made eye contact, then looked away. He nodded instead of saying a word.
Why risk it?

"You respect my brother. Got it?"

Cole nodded again.

"He's…been through hell and back. You say or do anything to get him down and I'll fucking break you. Got it?"

Cole nodded.

"I'm not kidding."

Sure, he lacked common sense sometimes, but he didn't have a problem with his hearing. Fortunately, Cole paused long enough to realize making that comment would not have gone over well. After a few moments, he decided to go with a simple response. "I can tell."

"Good. Let's go," Aidan said, exiting the SUV.

Cole had been so preoccupied observing every nuance of Aidan's mood on the drive over that he hadn't noticed the shop until he stood outside the truck. "Which one is the shop?" he asked, looking down the row of warehouse bays.

"All of them," Aidan said, walking alongside him.

Cole whistled in amazement. "Why so many?"

Aidan fidgeted with his suit jacket, tugging the edge of his sleeves. "He segments the work. Keeps the paint stuff separate from the mechanic and restoration, customization, and the detailing."

They walked up to the door with the sign hanging above that read
Calloway's
. Aidan turned the knob but the door didn't open. He reached for his key chain, inserted a key into the lock, and finally entered the building.

"Is it your shop, too?" Cole tried, with every ounce of willpower, not to cringe. He didn't think he could handle a double shot of Calloway on a daily basis.

"No, I have the key just in case I need to get in or something happens."

Cole looked up at the high bay roof as Aidan closed the door behind them. Everything was so…clean.
OCD much?
He had never walked into a shop with a light-colored painted floor that didn't have some sort of dark scuff or grease, evidence to show some serious grungy work happened in the place. He looked over to the side walls and saw the tools neatly pegged on what appeared to be built-in shelves. There were heavy duty tool cabinets on each wall, centered for easy access in the obvious service area.

"C'mon," Aidan said, encouraging Cole to follow. "He's been working on a custom project so he's probably at the other end of the shop."

Each of Cole's boot steps echoed in the open space. As he walked alongside Aidan, he craned his neck to try to absorb every detail. About eight or nine feet off the ground, a row of decorative plaques ran along the wall across all the bays as far as the eye could see, paired with a framed image of the winning custom car directly below each award. On the opposite wall, larger ribbons and trophies sat on industrial-like shelves, showcasing each prize. As they passed the bay, obviously designated for mechanic work and repairs, they entered an area that was so pristine it made the prior bay look like a grease shop. His eyes widened when, over to his right, he spotted a white Lamborghini Gallardo raised several feet in the air next to a black Bugatti Veyron, like black and white angels flying in the heavens.

"Is that the norm here?" Cole asked, pointing upward to the exotic cars on the lifts.

"Yeah. He gets a mix of different types of cars and projects. He likes to keep busy," Aidan said as he walked with determination.

They entered the third bay and Cole froze.

"What?" Aidan asked, stopping several steps ahead.

Cole's eyes widened further and he pointed to the corner.

"What? That?" Aidan asked, pointing in the same direction. "That pile of rusting metal?"

Cole gasped. "That's blasphemy," he said, almost in a whisper, as he neared the corner.

"C'mon, Cole. Stop fucking around. The custom area is right over there, let's wrap this up."

Cole kneeled next to the stack of rusted metal. They had obviously walked into the restoration area of the shop, there was no other explanation. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

"No, but I have this disturbing notion that you're going to keep talking."

Cole didn't even care how prickly Aidan was at that moment. He was obviously tense about something and Cole had a hard time focusing on anything other than the hidden beauty that lay before him. He raised his fingers to touch the slightly warped metal, hesitating before finally letting his fingers graze the rusted edge.

He closed his eyes and exhaled when his fingertip touched the corroded fender. "This is a Yenko Camaro," he said quietly. He opened his eyes and leaned up on his knees to take a peek at the partially raised sleeve of metal that was once a hood. He inhaled deeply. "It's got the four-twenty-seven engine, and it looks original."

"It was obviously once a muscle car. It's a '69 Camaro and he gets those here all the time."

Cole shook his head. "It's more than that. It's a Yenko. That's rare in itself. Having the original, factory-installed engine makes it even rarer. There weren't many, I think less than two hundred that year. And if the numbers match—"

"They do," echoed a new voice.

Cole looked over his shoulder and saw a man in coveralls standing next to Aidan. He was almost as tall—Cole guessed he was about an even six feet tall—give or take an inch. Standing next to Aidan, he looked softer. Then again, most people would probably look that way standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the arrogant detective. Aidan was lean-muscled with sharp features, while the man standing next to him was slightly broader but built more from natural work. They shared similar overall coloring of hair and skin tone and the same nose, but that was about it. Aidan's eyebrows arched upward, giving him an eternal
don't-fuck-with-me
look, while this other man's eyebrows lay horizontally, softening his expression. They had the same full lips, but the new guy's mouth was set wider, showcasing just how full his lips were.

Overall, they looked similar enough to be brothers, but so very different. Aidan appeared perpetually pissed and the new guy looked…sad or pensive.

"Ty, this is Cole. Cole, this is my brother, Ty," Aidan said, gesturing between them with the introduction.

Cole stood when Ty extended his hand in greeting. They shook hands, made eye contact, but Cole thought it best not to speak in hopes of bettering his odds in making a good impression. There was something guarded in the man's eyes. Those eyes, Cole couldn't really place the color. They were brown but an odd shade, a mix of browns, not hazel like Aidan's.

Aidan handed his brother a file. "Here's the paperwork Matt needs you to fill out to get him started. Matt put a bunch of sticky notes and stuff in there for you to review. You can send the forms back with Cole tomorrow."

Ty nodded and took the offered file. He quickly flipped through the interior sheets before closing the folder and making eye contact with Cole again.

He was intriguing. There was something cautious about his eyes.
Oh hell. Is this guy worried because I'm an ex-con in his shop?
Cole didn't flinch at the thought. He never flinched. Yes, he had stolen a car—well, he had been caught stealing
one
car—but that didn't mean he'd steal from someone who offered him a job. He just needed someone to give him a chance to prove he wasn't a total fuck-up.

The awkward silence drove Cole crazy. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and rubbed his palms against his jeans. He thought about what would be safe to say. He scratched his head through his beanie and scowled. He could say something about the cars, or maybe the shop. He could ask for a tour, but thought it best to not push his luck so soon. Something else ran through his mind but he knew that wasn't the right thing to say either.
Shit
. Instead, he opted for something safe. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he finally said, trying for a cordial tone.

"It's a p-p-p…" Ty began then stopped. His jaw muscles flexed and he took a deep breath.

Aidan reached up and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

Ty casually shrugged off the comforting hand and looked back at Cole. His eyes held an angry fire Cole hadn't seen moments before. "It's nice to meet you too."

Cole cocked his head to the side, inquisitively. Ty was a puzzle. He was quiet, reserved, but there was something else brewing beneath the surface. "What's wrong with you?" he finally asked.

Ty straightened and inhaled sharply. His gaze was firm, unwavering. "Be here tomorrow at eight. Don't be late." He turned and walked away, heading toward a space by the service area, which looked like his office.

Cole turned to Aidan.

Two thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.

One: I forgot to pause at some point.

Two: Julian's prayer skills sucked donkey balls.

He didn't have a chance to think of anything else before Aidan's fist made contact with his face, knocking him off his feet and onto the super-clean, polished painted floor of the shop.

Aidan turned and walked back through the bays toward his SUV, cursing up a storm, leaving Cole on the floor grabbing the side of his face and wondering what the hell he had said or done.

Great
.

He'd managed to screw things up before the first day even began.

Well, that must be a record or something.

Cole entered Halfway House through the back door, pulling down his knit beanie, hoping to cover his face.

Julian instantly rose from the couch and walked up to Cole. "What the fuck happened?" he asked, lifting the edge of the beanie Cole tried desperately to pull down.