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CHAPTER ONE
Meredith
I wondered how many other people got up in the morning and intentionally tried to make themselves look their worst. Just me? Maybe. Being a night owl and having to get up before eight a.m. was a happy coincidence, and I did nothing to hide the increasingly dark circles under my eyes from lack of a full night’s sleep.
After running wet fingers through my short curls, I pulled on my brightly colored neon-green coveralls and smiled because this choice of uniform would drive Grand to drink. Our airline repair shop manager wanted everyone in black, but it remained a rule he had trouble enforcing. Probably the only one because the grump ruled the repair shop with an iron fist.
The knock at my door startled me, given the early hour. I should never be surprised at someone dropping by, no matter the time, since three of my four siblings lived within throwing distance. Not to mention my parents were even closer in proximity.
I padded to the door and unlocked it before returning to the bathroom, calling over my shoulder, “It’s open.”
My younger sister barreled through the door before the words exited my mouth completely. “You’re not ready?”
“Almost. Why?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “I thought we’d head over together, but I don’t want to be late. Jaden has flight training this morning and Janine isn’t scheduled for another hour, so I need to open the rental.” Miranda scanned me from head to toe, then raised a brow. “Is that new?” She looked like she was doing her best to suppress a laugh, her eyes squinting, but the mirth trickled from her mouth.
“It sure is. Just give me a second. I’ll grab a protein bar.” That was instead of dropping in to Mama’s and loading up on breakfast as my normal routine called for. Considering it was the Monday after the huge Thanksgiving we’d just hosted, the fare might be a little light over there anyway.
“Okay, I’ll head back to the cart.”
Golf carts were scattered everywhere throughout the compound, as our preferred mode of transportation. Almost every building could be visited by walking, but some were a lot farther than others. The repair shop being one of them. The flight school and airplane rental were next to each other, but the shop had a huge hangar to itself, far from the other businesses and our homes. Nobody wanted the fumes of jet fuel, faint burnt rubber, and electrical shortages close by.
After rifling through the pantry, I secured my on-the-go breakfast and locked the front door before sliding onto the seat next to my sister.
She eased us onto the gravel road that ran in a circle connecting all our houses before hitting the entrance to the better-paved surface that would take us to the main road and the business section of Hawthorne Family Soaring Eagles. The air had cooled considerably since Thanksgiving, and I gave myself a hug to stave off the wind blowing through our ride. Then again, we had such a gathering of relatives and with the way the succession vote went, I could have missed the weather change several days ago entirely.
I elbowed my sister in the side, then leaned in so she could hear me without raising my voice. Around here, you never knew where ears were perked and what voices might carry on the wind. “What do you think Daddy will do about the CEO position now? Do you think Margaret will let it go?”
Miranda huffed a miserable laugh. “Who knows? Not my monkey, not my circus. I’m just happy Dominick isn’t leaving, saving me from running the flight school.”
My little sister barely wanted the responsibility of being at the flight school part-time with our brother as the director and making all the decisions. She would have been miserable if he’d actually left, I’m sure of it. Some days, I wondered if she wanted to be involved with the family business at all. “I don’t think Margaret will let it go.”
She spared me a quick glance, then stared at the open road before us. “She never wanted to be CEO and I’m happy the burden has been lifted. I just hate how it all went down. I expected the misogyny from Granddaddy, but not our own father.” She shook her head. “She won’t let it go, though. You know Margaret.”
I did know the eldest Hawthorne sibling. At a little more than a year apart, I had been competing with Margaret since we entered elementary school. Not competing well, of course, but competing nonetheless. Not that anyone ever noticed. No matter any accomplishment I managed to carve out for myself, they couldn’t get past my looks. Even Mama and Daddy. Especially Mama and Daddy.
No one even glanced my way when Daddy announced his retirement. He’d been training Margaret basically her whole life and eyed me for the face of Hawthorne. At least until I changed my appearance so much, even that had become beyond the realm of possibility. An assumption on my part because neither he nor Mama had mentioned it since I insisted on working in the mechanic shop.
We pulled on the side of said shop and I hopped out. “Thanks for the ride.”
She checked her fitness watch. “Early for once. Maybe Grand will take it easy on you today. With his chocolaty fine self.” Then she gave me a wink and sped off, leaving me in her literal dust.
I coughed and patted at my clothes while watching an oblivious Miranda drive away. Now I’d need to go rewash my face. The bathroom was near the back entrance, so I headed that way.
Grand’s horse grazed in the makeshift paddock he’d set up behind the hangar. He lived close by, so rode the fine-looking beast whenever the weather allowed. Otherwise, he traveled by motorcycle. The cranky man had no use for the golf carts because I don’t believe he’d ever gone anywhere else on the grounds. At least I hadn’t personally witnessed or heard of him venturing outside the repair shop. He certainly hadn’t expressed an interest in anyone enough to spend time with. I often wondered if the repair shop manager had any friends at all. Certainly none among the team inside this hangar.
I slipped inside and made a beeline for the bathroom. As big as the hangar was, running into Grand wasn’t expected, but there he stood anyway.
Burly arms folded over a broad chest. From the shop gossip, Grand had left the rodeo behind some years ago, trading it in for the steady pace of the Hawthorne Family airplane-repair station.
I stared the man down, but maintained a pleasant expression. It wasn’t in my nature to match his surliness, and I refused to let him change me. “Good morning, Grand.”
He checked his watch and his eyes widened before quickly schooling his face. “On time for once.” He spun around and headed back to his station.
I watched him the entire way because although he was a salty person in general, something about him piqued my attraction completely unbidden. It was an attraction I’d been battling for weeks, one that I would have to get under control soon.
Probably not today.
Having sufficiently removed the dust from my face, I headed over to the Gulfstream G280 I’d been working on the past couple of days. I’d neared the end of the complex repair, but before I could release it back to its owner, Grand would check my work. It didn’t matter that I had a pilot’s license myself, or had grown up with jet fuel coursing through my veins, or even that I’d attained a mechanical engineering degree. The shop manager looked at me as a nepotism hire, my last name ensuring my position.
I snickered under my breath, put my goggles on, and stuck my head in the engine. My parents didn’t want me here doing this work any more than Grand did. Not quite a nepo baby, after all.
I felt him before I heard Grand’s smooth-as-honey voice. “The client wants this back tomorrow.”
“I know. I’m almost finished.”
“I need time to inspect it.”
I sighed and lifted my head from inside the engine, staring into Grand’s near-black eyes. At five foot ten, he only had a couple of inches on me, so glaring at him on the near same level wasn’t difficult. “You think you’ll need a couple days for that? You must be slipping.”
Fire lit the back of his eyes, which he then narrowed. “Don’t be such a smart aleck. Just finish the repairs, please.”
That please may have sounded innocuous to the outsider, but Grand did not mean it as a pleasantry. Especially when said through gritted teeth.
I responded with his least favorite action—a smile and two-fingered salute.
He spun around and stomped off.
My work bestie, Rodney, sidled up once Grand cleared the area. “He’s in fine form early this morning.”
“Listen, if the man had a pleasant word for me, I’d probably faint on the spot.” Grand was grumpy overall, but he saved a particular brand of testiness just for me.
Rodney huffed. “You know why he’s like that with you.” He leaned his tall, ultrathin frame against the side of the plane, then raised his brows.
“Don’t start with that. He hates that I’m here. I think he’s made that pretty clear.”
He shrugged, lips pulled downward. “You keep thinking that.”
Rodney had somehow come to the conclusion that Grand liked me. Like, liked me. He couldn’t be more wrong.
I waved him off and stuck my head back in the engine. After about an hour of doing all the checks myself, I readied the plane for Grand’s inspection, then texted the man. The huge hangar made walking every time someone wanted to speak to someone else untenable. Not impossible by any means, and some days I enjoyed getting my steps in, but today I just wanted to get this over with.
Grand showed up about a half hour later, probably some sort of power play, and went through his checks without even glancing my way. When finished, he shook his head. “The battery should have been replaced. It’s at five years.”
“No, that’s not correct, Grand.”
He spun around and finally looked me in the eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Anyone else would probably take umbrage, but I was used to not being taken seriously. It was my life story and complaining did no good because people usually reacted with a lack of empathy. At least that was how it was growing up—Meredith has it easy because she’s so pretty. What does she have to complain about? Unfortunately for me, usually when I saw a mistake being made, I couldn’t help but speak up, then regretted it immediately when I wasn’t taken seriously.
I sighed, then replied to Grand’s lack of knowledge in this area. “I realize you think this is a mistake, but this battery doesn’t need to be replaced until between eight and ten years.”
The tips of Grand’s ears darkened, then he pulled out his tablet and clicked once. “Let’s see what Altitude Adjustments has to say about it.” Another few clicks and he turned the tablet toward me. “See where he says to change the batteries at five years? You didn’t do that.”
I raised my finger toward the tablet. “May I?”
He shrugged.
I scrolled down a couple of pages’ worth, then pointed out something. “The author continues here on the type of battery used in this airplane.” I was so damn tired of Grand pulling out this blog every time anyone remotely disagreed with him. Or even when there was an issue we hadn’t had a chance to figure out yet. He trusted this anonymous aviation blog implicitly.
“Hmph. I suppose that’s okay then. Let me take one last look.”
He squeezed those broad shoulders into the engine again and pulled on some wires, making a show of a thorough check, as if he hadn’t already done that.
I stood by, taking deep breaths. I wasn’t sure exactly what Grand’s problem was, other than not wanting me in the shop, but he really should get over himself.
“Okay. I’ll have Meyer call the customer and let them know it’s ready.” He walked off without a good job, a way to go, or even simply a thank you.
When Grand first hired on as the shop manager, I could hardly hold my composure around him. He was so beautiful to me. Luminescent dark brown skin, even darker big eyes that took in everything all at once. Sexy in the cowboy boots he always wore. Gah.
Then he opened his condescending mouth.
I shrugged and wiped my hands on a towel, checking my tablet for the next repair on the schedule.
His loss.
CHAPTER TWO
Grand
I sat down in a huff, trying, and probably failing, to cover how much I allowed Meredith to get under my skin. I needed to focus because it wouldn’t be long before the batteries I worked on were needed for their respective airplanes.
First, I opened my tablet and went to the Altitude Adjustments blog to read the latest post that went up late last night. I wished this man would post at a decent time, so I didn’t need to use valuable shop time to read. Mattered not, because the information I gleaned from the blog was invaluable to me and the entire team. We had a high success rate for a reason. The latest tips and tricks were so much better and quicker than trudging through the top industry magazine. Basically the same information, but broken down into digestible easy-to-understand tidbits. Especially for someone like me, who didn’t have the formal training and advantages someone with the last name Hawthorne had.
I chanced a glance at the mechanic top of mind. The distance between us was far, but I had a direct line of sight. She bent over her tablet, but at this distance, what she did was impossible to tell.
I looked back at my own tablet and read. The latest entry detailed how to choose an aircraft maintenance company. This wasn’t pertinent, but I always read the entire article, even if it didn’t apply to what we did at Hawthorne. I never knew when that information might be useful.
I read the entire entry, then reread. Every consideration made pointed exactly to what we did here. Which was great, but seemed very coincidental. I shrugged and put the tablet down.
Before I could turn my attention back to the batteries, Rodney sidled up. “Hey, boss.”
“What is it, Rodney?” He was a great mechanic but favored the Hawthorne woman too much.
He rose his hands in surrender. “No need to bite my head off. I haven’t even told you what I want yet.”
I rubbed at the pain in my left elbow unbidden, then hurriedly dropped my hand. I hadn’t meant to do that in front of him. “Again, I’ll ask, what is it, Rodney? And this better not be about Meredith.”
“Of course it’s about Meredith. She’s really good at what she does, but you question every move. Don’t you think it’ll affect her confidence?”
The only time the man spoke to me was when he had something to say about Meredith. At first I thought he was sniffing around her, but then it became obvious she was more of a little sister he felt the need to protect. As if she didn’t already have enough Hawthorne siblings. That Margaret was here enough to keep a firm eye out. Even Dominick made it over from the flight school at least once a week to check on how his sister was treated around here. Not that he would ever admit it.
I sighed and shook my head. “If me running a tight ship affects her confidence, maybe she shouldn’t be here. I don’t treat her any differently than anyone else around here.”
He twisted his lips to the side of his face, then huffed a laugh. “Sure, boss, whatever you say.” Then he walked off, supposedly back to his station.
All I could do was turn my attention back to my task. I didn’t treat her differently, despite what Rodney thought. Yes, I kept a tighter eye on her, but as the only woman in a shop full of men, what else could I do?
My life would be so much easier if she’d just do something else. Anything else.
I didn’t like grocery stores as a rule. They were a necessary evil because baking was near and dear to my heart, and although cooking wasn’t my favorite, a man had to eat.
Too bright. Too clean. Too full of people who walked too slow and talked too loud and smelled like lavender detergent or whatever passed for soap these days. I’d only stopped in for coffee filters and butter, strictly necessities, and was already regretting it.
After adjusting my worn jacket—the temperatures were really up and down these days—I crossed the too-full parking lot, heading toward the front doors of the newly built H-E-B. These stores were plentiful in Houston proper, but scarcer the farther out of town you went. Autumn, Texas, was pretty far out, so everyone and their grandmother wanted to see the new shopping attraction.
I only wanted my two items, then to remove myself from this place as soon as possible.
That’s when I saw her. Not someone I knew or had seen before. Just a woman, maybe late seventies, tugging at a stubborn shopping cart that had apparently melded itself to the rest of the row. Her little dog, a furball of a beast wearing a raincoat, yipped at her feet, leash tangled around one worn sneaker. No one helped. They just trickled around her, ignoring her completely.
I released a sigh that could’ve curdled milk. Oh yeah, I added milk to my mental grocery list.
I told himself I was just trying to get through the entrance. I had places to be. An appointment with my therapist, and my horse also needed tending to after. Neither would wait.
“Cart’s jammed on the wheel,” I said, voice low and gravelly. I sighed and cleared my throat when she didn’t acknowledge me. “Ma’am, the cart’s wheel is jammed.”
The woman looked up, startled. “Oh, I—I didn’t realize.”
I bent down, gave the handle a sharp tug, then leaned into the side of the cart and lifted just enough to wiggle the front wheel free from the twisted metal rail. The cart popped loose with a screech.
“There,” I muttered, dusting my palms on my jeans. “Next time, try the one second from the end. They don’t chain those in as tight.”
“Oh. Thank you,” the woman said, blinking like I’d just performed CPR on her puppy. “That was very nice of you.”
I grunted, already turning away. “Sure, no problem.”
The little dog barked once, then wagged his tail so hard, the whole back half of his body wagged with it.
I paused and bent to give him some scratches, trying and failing to keep a grin from my face. People weren’t my absolute favorite these days, but I always made time for animals.
And little old ladies, apparently.
The woman cooed, which was my hint to get the hell out of there. I stood and gave her an awkward wave, then rushed through the automatic doors.
Stalking off, trying not to hear her “Thank you” again, or notice the cashier who smiled at me like I wasn’t the grumpiest man this side of the Mississippi, I reached the coffee aisle and picked up the filters. Damn it, I’d grabbed the wrong size. If I wasn’t careful, I might be late to my appointment because I still needed to drop by my cottage and store some of the items in the fridge.
With a low growl, I switched them out, then glanced back toward the door. The woman was wheeling her cart with reckless abandon, her dog happily riding in the upper portion usually reserved for children.
I exhaled through my nose and shook my head.
I didn’t do nice. I did efficient.
Still…her cart rolled real smooth after I fixed it.
My horse had been the closest I’d had to a therapist until a few months ago. And even though I’d been going steadily, I still hadn’t opened up to her with the ease I had with Sunny. He didn’t press me with more questions. Nor scribble in a notepad. Instead, he nudged me with his nose, asking me for scratches and apples, and maybe the occasional sugar cube.
Although—and I hated to admit it, mainly because Grandma had pushed me into therapy—subtle changes were already noticeable in my thinking. I still had a long road ahead.
I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out a sugar cube, offering it on my palm to Sunny.
He gobbled it up before I could blink, then used his nose to butt me in the shoulder.
I scratched him and used the lead rope to guide him along, heading toward the big lake. It was a bit of a walk, but exercise was important for us both.
“You know what she asked me, boy? Why do I think I treat Meredith differently?”
I nearly choked. I didn’t treat her differently. At least I didn’t think I did. But it was the second time someone had brought it up, so maybe there was something to it. “It’s not so much as I treat her differently, but as the only woman in the shop, I have to keep an eye on her, because I can’t trust a hangar full of men to not get out of line.” Of course we did background checks, but men…well, after being on the rodeo circuit for years, let’s just say I’ve seen some things.
I stretched out my left arm, which had begun to tighten. Back then, I could defend someone easily. That was before my accident.
Sunny walked silently beside me, eyeing the occasional leaf blowing in the wind, no judgment lobbed my way. The cold hadn’t set in yet, at least not in earnest, but it wouldn’t be long. The wind only made me pull my jacket in a little tighter and snuggle closer to my horse.
It wasn’t a time I liked to reflect on too much. There were plenty of good men out there, but the ones who weren’t seemed to be the loudest. I’d definitely had to pull a few off women who didn’t want to be bothered. I rubbed my arm because a low ache had settled in and there was nothing I could do about it until I got back home.
I huffed a breath, then looked ahead to see how far we had left. “You know what she asked then, Sunny? ‘What made me feel the need to be such a protector?’ And before I could answer, she launched right into ‘You lost your father very young. Did anyone protect you?’”
I was not expecting that, and my stomach tightened from the blow. I stumbled over my answer. How I didn’t really need protecting. And how Mama and I lived with my grandparents, though my grandfather also died soon after we moved in.
I was barely able to catch my breath before she circled right back to Meredith, wanting to know more about the circumstances in the repair shop.
The thing is, it was different having just one woman there. It seemed I was always protecting her from shop talk, heading it off at the pass before she knew what was going on.
I patted Sunny on his side. “It can be exhausting, boy.”
And it’s not like Meredith ever gave any indication she wanted this intervention. But who would invite that gutter talk? The thing was, no matter how much Meredith tried to cover her sexy with baggy, sometimes greasy clothes, her natural beauty shined through.
We made it to the lake and Sunny squinted, watching the still water. The wildlife had fled earlier in the month so we were essentially alone.
I was alone, with too many thoughts.
I slid my backpack off and opened it, removing a big juicy apple.
Sunny barely let me get it out before swiping it from my palm. At least that put a smile on my face.
As he chomped, I continued our one-sided conversation.
“I probably shouldn’t have voiced this, but I also get tired of hearing it from her parents, who try their best to make me responsible for her being in the shop, even though I would rather she not. They refuse to fire her, so I won’t either.”
I sighed and thought about it a moment, and as much as I hated to admit it, Meredith was a damn good mechanic, and I didn’t have cause to fire her. If her parents didn’t want her there, they needed to deal with it. Not my business.
My elbow seized up, and before I could stop myself, I released a yelp. “Come on, boy. We better head back.”
The mystery was why thinking and talking about Meredith always made my injury come to my attention.
End of Excerpt
