Chapter 50 50

Chapter 50 50
  ~TESSA~
    THE FOLLOWING DAY...
    The moment we pulled into the Bishop Bikes lot, I felt it... that sound.
    A deep, rumbling chorus of engines under repair. 
    Ryder smiled... he looked happier here.
    Like something loosened in his shoulders the second he stepped out of that polished world and into this one... 
    “Welcome back to the heart of the beast,” he said, glancing back at me as he tossed his helmet onto a nearby bench.
    I followed him into the open garage bay, where three guys were arguing over what sounded like a faulty timing chain. 
    The place was half chaos... half choreography.
   I mean... tools clinked. Classic rock blasted from an old radio. 
    There was a rhythm to basically everything.
    And when they saw Ryder?
    Everything stopped.
    “Look who actually showed up,” Knox said, stepping away from a vintage Ducati and wiping his hands on a rag. 
    His blonde hair was messier than usual...
    “Figured you’d gone soft living in the mansion.”
    “I got dragged here by someone more intimidating than you,” Ryder said, nodding at me.
    Knox looked me up and down... no leer, just curiosity... and then nodded back. “The famous Tessa. You clean up better than he does.”
    Duke called from across the garage, “This the pretty girl who made our VP disappear."
    “She’s not just the girl,” Ryder said as he took my hand. “She’s my girl.”
    That did it.
    Groans. Mock whistling. 
    One guy even clapped like we were at a wedding.
    I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Is this the welcome committee?”
    “This is the peanut gallery,” Ryder muttered. “Ignore them.”
    I realised he had employed more guys from the Hellfire MC.
    That was good. At least, they'd get a salary every month. 
    Ryder led me past the garage toward the showroom, where the polished bikes stood like art pieces.
    I caught sight of TB... the Tessa Bishop bike... from last week, front and center behind the glass partition.
    “She’s a showstopper,” I whispered.
    “She’s not the only one,” Ryder said, nudging me gently.
    I flushed.
    “This whole place,” I said. “It’s… kind of amazing. I love this place so much."
    He smiled. “Wanna learn how it all works? Wanna learn more? I haven't taught you enough."
    “Yeah,” I said, grinning. “I really do.”
   ~
   ~TESSA~
   The first thing I learned about working in a garage?
   You don’t wear white.
   The second thing?
   You will get teased by at least three different men for the way you hold a wrench.
   “Don’t baby it,” Duke said, grinning as he watched me fumble with a ratchet. “It’s a tool, not a kitten.”
   “She does know the difference,” Ryder cut in dryly, stepping behind me. “Unlike some of you morons who still think carburetors belong on everything.”
   The other guys groaned. 
   Duke rolled his eyes and walked off, muttering something about “old-school loyalty.”
   Ryder leaned in close, his voice dropping as he guided my hands.
   “Okay, loosen this bolt... just that one. Use your body, not just your wrist.”
   I followed his direction, my fingers slick with oil, my knee braced against the workbench.
    The bike in front of us... a Yamaha stripped to the frame... wasn’t going to fix itself, but it was a good dummy for practice.
   “Better,” he murmured.
   His hand slid along my arm. 
   Not inappropriate. Just steady. Warm. Strong.
   And very distracting.
   “You’re seriously good at this,” I said.
   “I’ve been doing it since I was a teenager.”
   “Well,” I said, straightening with a little smudge of grease on my cheek, “I’ve been doing this since twenty minutes ago. So I’d say we’re evenly matched.”
   He laughed, grabbed a cloth from the bench, and reached up to wipe the grease off my face... but instead left a black streak across my nose.
   “Hey!” I gasped.
   “Any issue, baby girl?,” he asked casually. “You’re in the crew now.”
   “Oh, really?” I dipped my hand in the nearby tub of grease and reached up...
   Before he could dodge, I streaked it down the side of his jaw.
   He froze.
   Eyes locked on mine.
   We both broke into grins at the same time, and then...
   He kissed me.
   Right there. 
   Between engine racks and squeaky wheels.
    His hands in my hair, mine still half-covered in oil.
    It was messy and impulsive and absolutely perfect.
   “Get a room!” Knox shouted from across the shop.
   Ryder didn’t even flinch. “This is our room.”