“Okay, well, another time. I’ve got to get going.” Vanessa opened the French doors. “Let me know when you want to get started on the Outfitters.” She hesitated, like she was giving him one more chance to take her up on her offer.

But he didn’t want to hook up with her.

He wanted to get back to Rosie.

And that was just all kinds of fucked up.

Chapter Seven

Brodie parked his bike in front of The Boneyard. The main building was a tunnel of corrugated steel, housing dozens of red motorcycle lifts. Bright tubes of LED lights lent the place a bluish tinge, giving the repair shop a space-age feel.

When he pulled off his helmet, the sounds of soldering and hydraulics filled the air.

One of the mechanics who’d worked on his bike a couple times came out wiping his hands on a rag. “Hey, man, what’s up? She giving you trouble?”

“Nope. My beauty’s running just fine.”

“Too bad. I’d like to get my hands on her.” He gave a lascivious smile. “I’ll treat her real good.”

Brodie laughed. “That’s what scares me.”

The owner of the Boneyard, Griffin James, sauntered out and shook Brodie’s hand. “What’s going on, man?”

“I’ve got some artisan stalls in Owl Hoot I’m looking to fill. It’s just a summer gig, but it’ll give exposure to artists, maybe drum up some business for them.”

“Nice idea.” His guarded tone said, What’s this got to do with me?

“So far, I’ve got a glass blower, a leather tooler, and a jewelry maker. I’ve been thinking about Jinx. Don’t know if he’d want to work in Owl Hoot, but people might be interested in watching his custom paint jobs. I wanted to bring it up with you before I talk to him.”

“I don’t need him on-site, so if he’s interested, it’s cool by me. Not sure he’s got the personality to work a crowd, though.”

The mechanic chuckled. “Unless you want kids crying, women cussing, and men flipping him off.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going for.” Brodie smiled. “I want the artists to make it interesting for the tourists, but it’s up to each person to run his business however he wants.”

“Let’s ask him and see what it says. At the very least, it’ll be entertaining.” The big, burly dude cupped the side of his mouth. “Jinx.”

A man at the other end of the shop, wearing a protective mask and thick, black gloves, glanced over and waved him off.

Griffin gave a deep belly laugh. “You sure you want that asshole around your tourists?”

“I’m looking for something different, something that’ll draw them in, so yeah. I want him.”