Page 39 of Make it a Double

Was it wrong to admit it brought me some semblance of joy to think about? Probably.

Did I care? Not even a little bit.

“Is it just a pride thing?” I asked. Anytime I tried to talk to him about it before, he turned me down. Said I couldn’t possibly understand, and he would’ve been correct. Of course, there was no way for me to know what was driving him if I didn’t have all the information.

My father huffed. “I’ve already told you. Her uncle’s portfolio is vast. He owns most of the land in the godforsaken town, and even more along the mountains. I’m talking prime fucking real estate that could make us a lot of money if we’re smart. Folks from the city want to escape to somewhere that feels rural while still having access to the staples they know and love in the city.”

That was it? His ego trip was all about turning Pinecrest into a fucking tourist trap? I thought there would be something sentimental about it, considering the lengths he was willing to go to. That was my mistake. I should’ve known my father only cared about something if it lined his pockets.

“There’s more land we can buy. Why does it have to be theirs?”

“Because John Hart was a pain in my fucking ass when he was alive, and his niece is proving to be the same. She deserves what’s coming to her,” he sneered.

“Dad,” I began, my tone pleading. I hadn’t called him that since I was a boy. “Think about this for a second. The Harts and the Bennetts are universally loved around here. I’ve seen that after only a handful of days.” I asked around when I stopped by town. There wasn’t a single person who didn’t have something nice to say about them. “Making them your enemy won’t do you any favors. What’s the point of selling if you alienate yourself from the town?”

“What do I care about that place or the people there? They can pack up and leave if they don’t fucking like how much traffic I bring to their shitty economy. Anyone who doesn’t want to play nice will be replaced.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

I closed my eyes and counted to five. Any hope I had of negotiating had just been thrown out the window. This battle was one of ego and nothing more. Unfortunately for all of us, my father’s had a tendency to come out on top.

“Take care of this, Beckett. Keep your foot on their throats, and answer the phone when I call.” The man laughed. “And don’t get distracted by small town pussy while you’re there. The last thing this family needs is an illegitimate brat running around.”

“One’s enough for you, huh?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Even though he had no idea Sawyer even existed, the idea of him referring to her in such a crude way made my blood boil. And who was he to talk about illegitimate children and affairs? How easily he seemed to have forgotten his own scandals when his accountant sent Tatum’s monthly allowance.

“Watch your fucking mouth, son,” he snarled. “Don’t forget who controls your future.”

Keep calm, Beckett. Don’t lose your fucking head now. “Got it,” I exhaled, running my tongue along my teeth. My jaw ached from clenching it so hard.

“We’ll talk soon. Remember… Pick up the goddamn phone next time.”

The line went dead before I could say anything else, leaving me in silence. I sat there for a minute, trying to get a hold of my anger. My father had the ability to get under my skin like no one else. He knew exactly what to do, what to say, to make me lose my goddamn mind.

If I were at home, I’d hit the gym or go for a run. Exercise helped me more than a psychiatrist ever could. My anger had scared me from the time I was old enough to realize how closely it tied me to my father. Thankfully, Tatum liked to remind me that while we both might’ve shared the tendency to lose our tempers, he’d never tried to get a handle on it like I did. That was what set us apart.

I wanted to believe that, but sometimes all I saw was his face staring back at me when I looked in the mirror. So full of envy and fueled by rage. Sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, from nightmares in which I found myself in a boardroom, morphing into him like the Hulk. While it was almost comical to say out loud, it was my worst nightmare in reality.

Even if I didn’t have access to a gym, or time to go for a run to purge it from my system, I had Sawyer. My eyes glanced toward the front of the building. She was just through that door, so close that my body couldn’t resist her.

Before stepping out of my car, I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. Then I repeated it three more times for good measure, taking care to hold each one for at least five seconds. She shouldn’t have to see this side of me. The last thing I wanted was to walk inside and have my fears written all over my face.

When I felt calm enough, I got out of my vehicle and headed straight for my girl. Yes, I was being presumptuous, and no, I may not have known exactly what I wanted when it came to us, but I was determined to toss the word “friend” out of her vocabulary as it applied to me.

Frank’s was crowded for a Thursday. Hell, it was crowded every day, it seemed like. Clearly, it was a popular hangout for people who needed to take the edge off a long day at work.

I spotted Sawyer immediately. She was standing behind the bar, still wearing her oversized Frank’s T-Shirt and leggings, talking with an old man I recognized from the last time I was here. He looked up at her like she was the best part of his day. His weathered hands clutched a shot of amber colored liquid before knocking it back. She watched him closely, laughing when he started coughing and slid a glass of water his way.

“You know, at some point you’ll need to face that your whiskey days are behind you, Gerald,” she said with a coy smile.

“Bah,” he huffed, graciously taking a sip of water. “Them days’ll be over when I’m dead and buried. Maybe not even then.” He turned to another gentleman sitting beside him. “You think they’ll bury me with a bottle?”

“Don’t know, and don’t care. I’ll be sure to die before you do, though, so I don’t have to figure it out,” the other man said.

Sawyer’s eyes lit up as she watched the old men bicker back and forth. Goddamn, she was beautiful. Her copper hair fell in thick waves down her back. It shone beneath the neon lights every time she moved. It drew me in. Made me want to run my fingers through her strands or wrap them tightly around my fist.

I had just started to walk over when Duke popped up in my direct line of sight. He narrowed his eyes and tipped his head toward his side of the bar. A clear command. Normally, I wouldn’t care about stepping on his toes and telling him no, but at present I needed him as badly as he needed me. There was no room in this little partnership for a dick measuring contest.

Duke Bennett was an imposing man. We may have been damn near the same height, but he had a good fifty pounds on me and perpetual scowl on his face unless he was staring at his wife. I bet the man could snap me like a twig if he wanted to.

I mean, I wasn’t a betting man, but if I were, I’d say he probably did.