The Right Tool (Bryant Brothers Book 3) Read online

  THE RIGHT TOOL

  Bryant Brothers Book 3

  by Tami Lund

  Cover Design: Obeithion Covers

  Editor: Julie Sturgeon

  Copyright: 2020 by Tami Lund

  License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer.

  Thank you for your support.

  All entities, locations, businesses, etc. in this book are strictly figments of the author’s overactive imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Questions, comments, or desires to seek permission to use any part of this book for your own purposes should be directed to [email protected].

  THE RIGHT TOOL

  Bryant Brothers book 3

  by Tami Lund

  Motorcycle mechanic Kyle Bryant was content with his life, until last night, when he hooked up with his youngest brother’s ex-girlfriend, Madison Alverez.

  The next morning, they’re stuck on a plane together, and then they’re sharing a bathroom at a resort in Florida while they prepare to stand up in her sister and his oldest brother’s wedding.

  The situation is already awkward as hell…and he just made it worse by pretending to propose.

  Suddenly, Kyle and Madison are knee-deep in a charade that feels all too real.

  The Bryant Brothers series, in reading order:

  Racing Home

  To Love & Protect

  The Right Tool

  Picture This

  Chapter One

  Kyle Bryant handed the receipt to his last customer of the day. “You’re all set, Will. She’s race ready now.”

  “Thanks so much for this, Kyle,” the fortyish-year-old gentleman said, waving at the dirt bike secured to the trailer hooked to a Dodge Ram idling in front of the shop. “I really appreciate you doing these repairs in time for my son’s birthday. He’s going to be thrilled.”

  Kyle smiled. “I’ll be honest—there was a bit of selfishness in my goal to finish them so quickly. I’m going on vacation. The shop’s going to be closed until next Saturday, and I wanted to make sure everyone was taken care of before I leave.”

  Will winked and stuffed the receipt into his coat pocket. “Is it your brother’s wedding?”

  Kyle was pretty sure his mouth fell open. No one was supposed to know about Tommy and Camila’s destination wedding. They had insisted they wanted something small and quiet. The only guests were their immediate families.

  And then, afterward, Tommy’s PR manager would leak pictures to the press, which would likely drum up business for the racetrack they owned, Rogers Speedway. Tommy was a famous, now-retired motocross racer with a huge fan base, and if they’d tried to plan a big wedding, well, there probably wasn’t a venue large enough for the number of folks Tommy would have felt obligated to invite.

  Will chuckled. “I follow your brother’s racing page on Facebook. Whoever manages that account has been leaving some pretty broad hints about a secret wedding ceremony.”

  Kyle blew out a breath. Maybe if he’d checked his own social media accounts at some point in the last few weeks, he’d know this. He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just doing what I’m told.”

  “I hope you all are going somewhere warm to do it. February is the perfect time to get the hell out of Michigan.”

  “You can say that again.” He didn’t add that yes, they were, in fact, going somewhere warm. Marco Island, Florida. The perfect backdrop for a beach wedding, according to Camila.

  Kyle had been checking the forecast daily for the past two weeks, and it looked like they were headed for sunshine and eighty degrees while they were in Florida. Considering the view outside his shop was of thick piles of snow and mounds of wet, gray slush, Kyle definitely wasn’t complaining about his brother insisting he take his first real vacation since he opened his shop five years ago.

  Will waved as he headed toward the door. “Well, thanks again, Kyle. Have fun next week.”

  “Thanks. And tell your son happy birthday. And good luck on his next race.”

  As Will climbed into his truck and pulled out of the small parking lot, Kyle started to flip the sign to closed and twist the deadbolt lock. Headlights flashed as an older model Ford Focus pulled in and parked in the spot Will had just vacated.

  He stood at the door, waiting for the occupant to climb out and hurry toward the building. Madison Alverez wore a snow-white, puffy, thigh-length winter coat over her pale blue scrubs. On her feet were a pair of black Uggs stained gray around the edges by who knew how many winters’ worth of salt and snow. Her thick, dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her skin was way paler than it should be, given her Puerto Rican heritage.

  Since she was Tommy’s fiancée’s sister and was also going to Florida for the wedding, Kyle figured that would change next week. Which was good. Pale and overworked were not how he liked to see her.

  “Hey,” he said, holding the door open so she could step inside.

  “Hey yourself. Looks like I got here just in time.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I was hoping you’d give me an oil change before we left. The light’s been on for a week, and I figure if I’m going to leave it at the airport for another week, it’s best to have fresh oil in the tank.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to bring it in as soon as that light comes on?” He shook his head. “Pull ’er into the first bay. I’ll meet you over there.”

  His shop specialized in dirt bikes and ATVs, but Kyle was also the go-to for his family when their vehicles needed maintenance. And Madison had been family since his youngest brother, Elliot, dated her when they were in college.

  She stood next to him while he pressed the button to hoist the car up so that he could climb into the pit underneath and get to work changing her oil. That buzz he usually felt whenever she was around kicked into gear, and he hastily stepped away under the auspice of getting to work.

  While he maintenanced her vehicle, Madison wandered around the bay, seemingly aimlessly. “Are you ready for this vacation?”

  He shrugged, not that she could see the motion. “Sure. Although I still need to pack.”

  “Not me. I’m ready to go. Well, other than taking a shower and getting a good night’s sleep.”

  “Excited to go to Florida?”

  “A little. I haven’t been in forever.”

  “Our whole family went the year Elliot graduated high school.” He winced. Bringing up his brother’s name was generally a no-no when in Madison’s presence. Nine months after the breakup and she still sometimes got teary-eyed when she talked about Elliot. Personally, Kyle thought the two of them had been lousy as a couple, and since she was the one who called it quits, he didn’t understand why she was still so emotional.

  “Not Marco Island though,” he added. “I’ve never been to that part of Florida.”

  “Me neither. I’ve been to Miami, but the west side of Florida is a whole different world from the Miami metropolitan area. I packed a bunch of sundresses and swimsuits and all the cute sandals I own but hardly ever get to wear.”

  Potential crisis averted, apparently. She was clearly too caught up in being excited over beach attire to wallow in sadness over a relationship that had been doomed from the get-go. Considering she was about to be stuck in close proximity for seven days with her ex, this was a small victory.

  “Is that because you’re working too many hours, even in the summer?”
he asked.

  “It’s all part of my plan.”

  Madison always had a plan. For everything.

  “My goal is to have all my student loans paid off before Mr. Right comes along. Then, when he does and I decide to settle down and start a family, I will have no qualms about cutting back my hours.”

  Mr. Right. What if Mr. Right was, well, right here? Kyle grimaced. It was like she saw falling in love and starting a family as some sort of transaction, the logical next step in the game of Life. Where was the romance in that?

  And holy shit, did he sound like a sap or what?

  Shaking his head, he said, “So are you officially on vacation now?”

  “Yep. Came straight here after my twelve-hour shift at the hospital. Hey, speaking of vacation, do you want to carpool to the airport together?”

  “Sure.” He’d thought about asking his parents if he could tag along with them, but they were probably taking Grandma Bryant and, mostly likely, Elliot as well. Being the fifth wheel in that little entourage sounded like way more effort than it was worth.

  Nothing wrong with anyone in his family, but when Kyle was ready to go, ready to park at the airport, ready to unload his luggage, ready to head toward security, ready to get to his gate with plenty of time to spare, he didn’t want to be forced to wait on his slow grandma or his brother who would probably forget something important like his phone or his carryon bag. Turning around once they were on the freeway heading toward the airport would make Kyle want to tear out his hair.

  But carpooling with Madison, well, that was perfect. Besides the fact that he’d get to spend one-on-one time with her, she’d likely be even more organized than he was.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at 7:30. I’m sure that’s way too early, but I figure we’ll get to the airport in plenty of time, and we can have breakfast while we wait for everyone else to rush to show up.”

  “Yeah, there’s a restaurant in the Delta terminal that makes decent Bloody Marys. But you don’t have to drive.”

  She waved down at him while he secured the drain plug on the oil pan. “Consider it payback for changing my oil after hours. Especially since I know you won’t let me actually pay you.”

  “You’re right on that count.” He’d never let anyone in his family reimburse him for taking care of their vehicles, and he wasn’t about to start now. Certainly not with Madison.

  “Also, I’m sure you’d be more comfortable with me leaving my ten-year-old car in long-term parking rather than your brand spankin’ new truck.”

  “Also a fair point.” He’d recently purchased a shiny, new Chevy Silverado, and, yeah, he wasn’t keen on leaving his new baby anywhere long term except in the garage here at his shop.

  “Seven thirty it is,” he said, climbing out of the concrete hole and pressing the button to lower her car to the ground.

  She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a quick hug. His brain registered that Madison was hugging him, and he’d just wrapped his arms around her midsection when she abruptly let him go and backed away. “Thanks so much. You’re the best. Now, I seriously need to get something to eat. I haven’t had anything other than a cup of yogurt since eight this morning.”

  “Come on upstairs,” he said, referring to his apartment above the shop. “I made a pot of chili a couple days ago, and there’s still a bunch left. Better to feed it to a friend than to toss it.”

  She tapped her chin, pretending to think about his offer. She was cute when she was teasing him. “Hmm. Do you have jalapeños?”

  He nodded solemnly. “Of course. Fresh ones. Which also need to be eaten, since I doubt they will last until we get home next weekend. Come on,” he said again. “You said you’re already packed. Help me clean out my fridge and you’ll leave with a full belly.”

  “You’re right. And I’m sure your chili is better than whatever fast food I’d pick up on the way home.”

  He’d never invited her up to his apartment before. There had never been a good enough excuse. And now that he had, he hoped to hell he’d left it in decent shape when he’d come down for work this morning. Not that she’d see anything but the kitchen and living room, but a guy could hope, right?

  Kyle was good at hoping and dreaming.

  “Trust me, there’s no comparison.” He pressed the button to lower the bay doors. “I just need to close out the till and lock up.”

  She followed him into the office and dropped into one of the nearby chairs while he took care of his closing responsibilities. After he twisted the deadbolt lock and flipped off the lights, he gave her knee a squeeze. She glanced up from her phone and offered up a blinding smile that made him blink rapidly, probably looking like a lovesick fool, until he shook it off and motioned for her to follow him.

  He led her out the back door and to the covered staircase that would take them up to his apartment. When he’d decided to go into business for himself, this particular piece of real estate had been perfect for a lot of reasons, including the space above the garage, which he’d easily converted into a comfortable living space. There was plenty of room for him and…himself.

  Huh. When was the last time he’d had a woman in his apartment? He was coming up empty. Which was, he knew, largely a result of this annoying crush he’d developed pretty much the instant Madison and Elliot broke up. One of these days he needed to make the executive decision to quit pining after a pipe dream and throw himself into the dating pool. It would be nice, at the very least, to get laid once in a while.

  “I think this vacation will be good for both of us,” he commented once they were upstairs and had taken off their boots and he’d hung Madison’s coat on one of the hooks on the wall near the door.

  Scrubs, generally speaking, weren’t exactly designed to show off a person’s figure, yet Madison wore them well. Really well.

  He’d always found her attractive, from the first time they met, at that bar near Purdue where she and Elliot had gone to college.

  “Why do you say that?” Madison asked, trailing him into the kitchen, where he pulled the Dutch oven that was still half full of chili out of the fridge and placed it on the stove.

  He snagged a couple of beers and offered her one.

  “Thanks.”

  After taking a cooling drink, he said, “I was just thinking, I haven’t had a date in…I honestly don’t even remember. It’s been two years at least.”

  “Two years?” Her eyes widened before she tilted the bottle to her lips. “That’s a long time.”

  He shrugged and stirred the warming chili.

  She picked up a notepad off the counter, read what he’d written there, and chuckled. “I make lists like this too.”

  It was his list of items to pack for this trip to Florida. “Yeah, I need to get on that. At least I managed to get all my laundry done yesterday.”

  “I’ll help, if you want.”

  He arched his eyebrows. “You’re going to help me pack?”

  She lifted one shoulder, let it drop. “It would make the process quicker. Come on, we can get it done while dinner is warming.”

  Without waiting for him to respond, she left the kitchen and headed in the direction of his bedroom. Although she’d never been up here before, it wasn’t a large space, and it was pretty obvious which of three doors led to his sleeping quarters.

  “Okay, where’s your suitcase?” she asked, turning in a circle in the middle of the room, her gaze touching on the homemade dresser, the matching bedside tables, his king-sized bed with the rumpled sheets and comforter half hanging off the side.

  He hurried over to straighten the blanket and then pointed. “Closet.”

  She walked over, opened the door, and said, “Wow. This is huge,” and disappeared inside. He wandered over, because honestly, he had no idea what sort of condition it was in.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t nearly as messy as he’d feared. She turned around to face him, only a foot or so away in the small—okay, for a closet, it was
pretty big, but it was still small when two people were standing inside—space.

  His heart began thumping so loudly in his chest, he was surprised she couldn’t hear it.

  “Smart, to design yourself a walk-in closet. Also smart to build your living quarters directly above your office. You’re a planner and organizer too, Kyle Bryant.”

  Taking in a shaky breath, he lifted his hands, as if in surrender. “Guilty.” He’d always believed he and Madison had more in common than she and Elliot.

  He pointed over her shoulder. “Suitcase.”

  She turned and bent over to grasp the handle, her rounded backside so close he could reach out and smooth his hand over it, maybe give it a little squeeze. He was unsurprised by the strong desire to do so. Her ass was nothing less than perfection, and he’d had so many fantasies about her without even trying, he instantly called up a visual of her doing that without clothing.

  And then he imagined her lying on his bed, all that thick, dark hair fanned out over his pillows, her nude body quivering with anticipation. Which was so wrong of him. Especially when they were standing in such tight quarters, and his pants were starting to get, er, tight.

  He cleared his throat and took a hasty step backward. And then another and another, for good measure.

  The backs of his legs hit the bed, and he plopped into a seated position on the mattress.

  Madison walked out of the closet carrying his suitcase, her brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

  He hopped to his feet. “Nothing. Here.” He snagged the bag and flipped it up onto the bed. “Okay, where’s my list?”

  “I left it in the kitchen. I’ll go—”

  “I need to stir the chili anyway,” he said, and they both started for the door, practically crashing into each other when they realized they couldn’t get through at the same time. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, and then he hightailed it out of there.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Normally, he had a much better leash on his attraction. Was it because Madison was in his apartment for the first time? Or was it just her? Which made no sense because Madison had been hanging around for two years now, so why all of a sudden was he acting like a bumbling idiot?