Chapter One
Lucy Colton was a major screw-up.
This was not news, not to her, and not to her family. But this latest disaster…well, let’s just say she’d hit the bottom of the screw-up barrel. Though screw-up seemed like too mild a word for what she’d done. The only way from here was up, right? Then again, with the way her life was headed, her barrel probably had a false bottom and there was a whole new low waiting that she’d yet to sink to.
She jiggled her knee restlessly and stared out the window as the cab pulled up outside Colton Auto Repairs. Her brothers, Hugh and Joe, were both there, the hot LA sun glinting off the chrome bumpers on their trucks parked out front, like she knew they would be.
There was only one way her unexpected arrival would go, especially with the news she had to share.
Her stomach sank to her feet.
And because the powers that be obviously hadn’t finished playing fast and free with her life just yet, and couldn’t wait to dish up some whipped cream with the steaming pile of shit pie they’d been serving her lately—Adam’s truck was there, too.
Adam Grady was her brothers’ best friend and business partner. The guy was also an arrogant asshole, an unapologetic manwhore…and unfortunately for Lucy, the sexiest man she’d ever known. The man she’d always wanted—above all others. And worse, the man she’d fallen head over heels in love with when she was twelve years old.
Well, he hadn’t been a man then, not quite, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, no matter how hard she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to fall out of love with him. And, oh boy, had she tried.
In her numerous attempts to eradicate him from her heart and mind, she’d traveled down more than her fair share of…unwise paths. She wasn’t trying to shift the blame on him. How could she when Adam had no idea she felt the way she did? Even if he did, it wouldn’t make one lick of difference. No, her screw-ups were all on her. One hundred and fifty percent.
And despite her feelings for him, she’d given up on him a long time ago. Adam Grady didn’t do relationships. Had never been in one. Ever. The man was broken, she knew that much, and though it had taken her a loooong time, and a few botched attempts, she’d learned he did not want to be pieced back together. Not by her—not by anyone. He was content in his brokenness. Wore it like a favorite sweater—but one that smelled of mothballs and had frayed cuffs, and no matter how many times you tried to throw that stinker out, he kept pulling it out of the trash and putting it back on. He was a hopeless case.
Yep, Lucy had long since given up on anything happening between them. It just sucked that her heart hadn’t caught up with her head.
She stared into the garage, through the large, open roller doors, and drew in an unsteady breath.
Freaking wonderful.
Like she needed an audience for the shit parade about to take place. And Adam of all people.
The cab driver twisted in his seat. “You getting out here or what?”
She was about to tell him to keep on driving, to take her anywhere but there, but Joe was already striding toward her, a frown creasing his forehead.
Neat-o.
“I’ll ah…get out here.” She handed him some money and turned to look at her brother through the window, a fake as hell smile on her face when he yanked her door open.
“What the hell are you doing here, squirt?”
She flipped him the bird. “Nice to see you, too, butt face.”
Fake it till she made it—that was her new motto. Pretend her life wasn’t in a crumbling heap at her feet and give the crowd what they came for. “Bags are in the trunk.”
She ignored Joe’s questions and grumbles and strode for the main doors. She had to do this quick. Like tearing off a bandage. The news would sting for a second or two, then they could all get over it and move on.
Hugh, her eldest brother, was at the back of the workshop, under the hood of a car. His head swiveled on his thick neck when she walked in, brown gaze locking on her instantly. The big bastard had a sixth sense when it came to her, more parent to her than sibling.
He straightened, face momentarily lighting up. “Lucy? What the fuck are you doing here?”
But the light vanished, replaced by concern almost instantly, causing a lump to grow in her throat. “You need to come up with something original. Joe’s already said that one.”
Joe walked in at that moment, struggling with her bags, a scowl on his face. “I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t want you to break a nail carrying your own shit.”
She smirked. At least with Joe there she had a buffer. “That’s why you’re my favorite brother.”