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And he was obviously chewing on something he wanted to say.
Adam stopped, aware of Quinn at his back. He doubted this preppy man was going to cause problems, but if he got a wild hair, he’d find that it was two on one. “Can I help you?”
“You’re Adam Meyers.”
“Guilty.”
Grant shot a look over his shoulder to where Jules sat on Adam’s tailgate, her long legs swinging as she chatted with her redhead friend. There was nothing over the top sexy about the way she was dressed—shorts and a plaid long-sleeved shirt that she’d rolled up to her elbows—but she drew Adam’s gaze despite that. There was just something so alive about her.
He needed to feel alive right about now.
Adam started moving forward again, tired of the game and surprisingly eager to get back to Jules. Maybe he should kiss her again. You know, for believability’s sake. “Excuse me.”
“Wait.” Grant grabbed his shoulder and smiled. There was nothing overtly wrong with the expression, but the fact he was touching him—holding him back—left Adam wanting to punch some of those too-perfect teeth out.
“I suggest removing your hand before I remove it for you.”
Grant’s smile didn’t waver, but he did drop his hand. “I know the score.”
What the fuck was he talking about? “Good for you.”
“I mean, it’s cute that you’re helping Jules make me jealous, but it’s not going to work.”
He knew that kiss had been a desperate Hail Mary pass at saving face, but that didn’t mean he was going to sell her out. It didn’t hurt Adam none to play along—and, yeah, he wouldn’t mind another chance to taste Jules again. She was dynamite, and he’d never been able to resist playing with matches. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please.” Grant rolled his eyes. “A few years might have passed, but that doesn’t change the fact that I know Jules. There’s no way in hell she’s dating you.”
“How do you figure?”
He knew where this was going. Despite his mama’s best efforts, he’d been hell on wheels while he was growing up. He had too much anger, too much energy, and a chip on his shoulder a mile wide. All that combined into giving him a reputation that kept his mama up at night.
So he’d left, needing to see more of the world than this hole-in-the-wall little town. The world was too big, too full of life, to stay in one place too long. He’d hit the jackpot when he decided to try the rodeo, and that first time riding a bull had ignited something in him he couldn’t resist. The second he’d picked himself up after being thrown, he’d craved another ride.
That craving hadn’t disappeared over the years.
If anything, it’d only gotten stronger.
He’d put all that aside the second Lenora called him to tell him his mama was in a bad way. It hadn’t been comfortable driving back into Devil’s Falls—like sliding into a suit that was two sizes too small—but it didn’t matter. His mama needed him, so here he was.
Grant shifted, as if just now realizing he could be getting himself into the kind of trouble that wasn’t easy to get out of. “Nothing against you, of course. It’s just that she’s…Jules. She takes the safe road. She’s a sweet girl, but she’s, well, you know.” He waved a hand in her direction. “A bit boring.”
Adam focused on controlling the rushing in his ears. Fifteen years ago, he would have punched Grant’s lights out just for saying something so goddamn stupid. He was different now.
More or less.
He moved forward, getting into the man’s space. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”
Grant went pale, his mouth opening and closing like a fish’s out of water. “You’re joking.”
“Get out of my sight, boy.”
Under different circumstances, it would have been funny to see how fast Grant hightailed it around the bonfire, but Adam was too busy trying to get a handle on the anger whipping through him. It was like a live thing in his chest, demanding physical action. He took a deep breath, and then another, wrestling it back under control. “I hate that guy.”
“Man, chill.” Quinn took one of the beers out of Adam’s hand and popped the top, then repeated the process with the other. “Remember what the sheriff said about fighting—you promised to behave.”
“That was when we were teenagers.”
“Same rule applies. Sheriff Taylor is getting old and has high blood pressure. You don’t want to be going and giving him a heart attack, now do you?”
Adam shot Quinn a look, but he took the beer back. “You’re an idiot.”
“Nah, I’m the smart one.” He gave a lazy grin. “Though if we stand here any longer while there are two gorgeous girls waiting for us, then someone might have a legit argument about the idiot thing.”
He glanced at the girls…and his cock jumped to attention. Jules was now leaning against the tailgate. The frayed edges of her shorts teased a peek of the lower curve of her ass. He was sure they’d started as something closer to modest, but they’d been washed so many times, they taunted him as she walked away, as if they’d fray just a bit more and give him the show of his life. “Those shorts should be illegal,” he muttered.
