Marrying My Best Friend's Sister: A Billionaire Enemies to Lovers MC Romance (Secret Love) Nikki Bloom (read book .TXT) 📖

just like your dad, my dad enlisted in the army, following in the footsteps of my grandfather and great grandfather. He made it through his first tour but not through his second. My mother, pregnant at the time of his death, sold the car to keep food on the table and a roof over her head. She was heartbroken to let the car go because it had been in the family for so long. You see, my great grandfather bought it while he was serving in Europe and had it shipped back to the states where he rebuilt it piece by piece in a shop of his own. All he knew was that he liked the look of it — he had no idea it would one day cost me twenty-million dollars to get it back.”

“Wait, you were the one who bought this car from auction for twenty-million dollars?”

“I still have the receipt in the glove compartment if you don’t believe me.” He pointed his thumb at the car’s interior. It was the first time I had glanced inside and it showcased the same workmanship that was obvious on the exterior of the car. Whoever had worked on the restoration obviously knew what they were doing. I only wished I was the one to have my hand at it.

“So, I have to ask you something else.”

“What might that be?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrow whilst leaning against the car just like I had leaned against the gas pump. He was so casual about it like he didn’t care about the value of the car — only that he got the pleasure of driving it— of getting to call it his baby. Honestly, if I had this guy’s money I would probably act the same way. I couldn’t stand the people who bought vintage cars just to hide them away in some museum. Did they not understand that cars were meant to be driven — to be enjoyed?

“What brings you to a place like this with a car like that?”

“Just bought some land up the road. Driving in from the airport. Like I said, I was just about to run out of gas when I saw you guys on the map. Looks like you’re the only gas pump in town.”

“That’s right,” I said. “A very lucrative monopoly when the town has a population of five hundred — maybe five hundred and one. I think Marbella just had a baby.”

He chuckled. “Still, it’s something.”

“So, are you really a baseball player? Thorin Gorecki? They say you got signed to the Rockies as a power hitter and that you’re going to win them the World Series, but as I hear it, you’re just a rookie.” My dad had suddenly interjected himself into the conversation. It would seem he had gotten his classic car fix and was now much more interested in the baseball player standing before him. Next to cars, baseball was one of his favorite things. When I was a little girl, he used to count his favorite people on his right hand. I was number one, my mother was number two, Henry Ford three, Thurman Munson four, and President William Henry Harrison the fifth. Harrison always confused me. Why show favoritism to a president who was only in office for 31 days? But Dad liked to say that a man with so lethal a dose of stubborn dedication deserved to be admired.

“Guilty as charged.” The stranger now christened Thorin twisted his body in a mock swing. He threw out his arm as if he had just hit the imaginary ball out of the park. “As I was telling your daughter, I just bought some land up the road. I intend to build my offseason home there.”

“So far from the stadium?” questioned my dad.

“I’m a fan of the countryside. There’s a quiet here that you can’t find anywhere else and that’s just the thing I’m looking for during the offseason.”

“Well, if peace and quiet is what you’re looking for, you’ve found it.” I motioned to the large expanse of land all around us. “Welcome to Elk Haven, residents five-hundred and two.”

He smiled and held out his hand. “Your name?”

“Hazel.”

“Hazel,” he repeated. “If everyone in this town turns out to be as friendly as you two, I’ve certainly struck gold choosing to live here.”

“A lot of horror movies start with sleepy little towns like this one,” I said.

“I know my way around a bat. If some ax murderer comes at me, well, I won’t go down without a fight.”

“Good because I think I might like having you as a neighbor.” For whatever reason, I winked at Thorin. I wasn’t flirting exactly but I was enjoying his company. He had a great taste in cars and from what I could tell, a decent sense of humor. In my book, that made him an alright guy.

“Likewise.” His smile lit up his eyes, making them golden. “And your name, sir?”

“Sir? Did you hear that, Hazel? This boy knows how to respect his elders.” My dad acted like he was whispering so that only I could hear him, but the guy didn’t know the first thing about volume control.

Thorin chuckled but acted like he was none the wiser to my dad’s comment.

“Hank,” my dad answered. “Name’s Hank and it’s a pleasure to have met you. This is a great car you’ve got here and I watched your performance with the Oakland A’s. The talent is there. If you drive in some runs for us, we’re bound to have one hell of a year. We might even redeem ourselves and make it to the Series.”

“Dad,” I interrupted. “I’m sure Thorin has places to be. We’ve held him up enough as it is.” I was trying to do the guy a favor because when my dad got started on baseball, he was liable to go at it for hours. It was better to cut him off before he went in too deep.

“Now that you mention it, I