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“What did they end up charging them with?” I ask.
“Arson and vandalism,” Joshua says. “I don’t think he’s going to get charged with the brake lines though. We might know he did it, but there’s no proof of it, and the DA is reluctant to muddy the waters of the charges they can prove with ones they can’t.”
Clay lets out an angry grunt. “Bullshit, if you ask me. But he’ll probably get three to five years in prison for what they can prove. I guess that’ll have to be good enough.”
Another flood of relief—not as big as the one that hit me when I learned my baby was going to be okay, but it’s a powerful feeling, nonetheless. “Have you guys spoken with Jed?”
Trey shoots me a shocked look and Joshua acts like I’ve grown another head.
“Why the hell would we do that?” Tyler grouses from the backseat.
I glance at my watch—almost lunchtime. Our timing might just be perfect. “Let’s stop at Amber’s Café for lunch. See if we can catch him.”
“Again, why?” Clay says this time.
I can’t see Clay’s expression, nor Tyler’s without turning around, but Trey doesn’t look happy. And the other two don’t sound happy. Only Joshua seems to have any sort of understanding on his face.
“There’s no reason we can’t try to end this feud between you guys and Jed. Plus, I kind of think you guys owe him an apology after accusing him of cutting down that fence.” At least they’d never gotten a chance to accuse him of cutting that brake line. If they had, I’m not sure they’d ever have a chance of healing the rift with their neighbor.
Trey glances away from the road for half a second to shoot me a look. Just long enough that I can see the consternation in his brow lines. “I don’t usually eat at Amber’s anymore. We dated for a short time—let’s just say she doesn’t like me much, now.”
“I’d kind of figured that,” I say, dryly. Amber had made her opinion of Trey and his overprotective nature clear the last time I was in her restaurant. What felt to me like safety seemed to have made her feel smothered. To each their own. “Don’t worry, I kind of like your protective nature. As long as you keep your orders to the bedroom and don’t try to boss me around in real life.”
Next to me, Joshua laughs. “Good luck with that. He likes to order everyone around.”
Clay laugh, too. “Not likely.”
Trey’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, but he keeps his eyes firmly on the road. “As if you guys are any better.”
I snicker a bit more at that. Trey isn’t the only one with an overprotective nature, that’s for sure. But he’s definitely the one who takes it as far. But I don’t mind it, not really—especially since I know about what happened with Claire, which is the root of his overprotective nature. And I have no doubt that if it becomes a problem in the future—if we have a future, that is—that I’ll be able to put him in this place, if necessary, and remind he can’t actually order me around, whether it’s for my own good or not.
Despite their arguing, all of the guys seem to be in a good mood when we unload in front of Amber’s Café. But when we all enter the small establishment, Amber shoots us a look of annoyance. The men ignore the “wait to be seated” sign and head for a large booth in the back of the restaurant. Behind the bar, Amber continues to shoot the occasional glare in Trey’s direction, but it’s another waitress who comes to take our order. The smell of French fries and burgers makes my mouth water.
Only a couple minutes after we finish telling the waitress what we want, the door above the bell above the door rings, and Jed comes into the restaurant.
I wave to get his attention, but he’s already seen us. He frowns when I wave again in an effort to get him to come over, but after a long moment, he walks to our table, grabbing a chair from a neighboring table on his way. He sets it down in front of our booth and sits.
“What you want?” he asks, bluntly.
And I realize then why I really didn’t ever really think it was Jed causing all the problems the men credited him with. He’s blunt—direct probably to a fault. He’s not the type of man to skulk around in the dark and commit crimes in the shadows. He’s the kind of man to punch you in the jaw when he is pissed at you. I need to be equally blunt.
But first... I give Clay and Trey a meaningful look.
“We owe you an apology, Jed,” Trey says. “We jumped to a conclusion that we shouldn’t have.”
“We should have known better than to think you’d do something so underhanded,” Clay adds.
Jed narrows his eyes, but not at the Hollisters, at me. “You managed to get these boys to apologize?” Then he shakes his head, a rueful grin on his face. “I guess that I understand. Hell, I’d be looking for someone to blame if someone was cutting my fences and trying to kill me in my truck.”
I start, then grin. “No keeping anything a secret in a small town, is there?”
“No, ma’am.” Jed laughs.
I clear my throat. Now for the blunt part. “There’s something else. We need to settle this situation, between you and the Hollisters. You’re all neighbors, and you have to live by each other for the foreseeable future.”
Jed crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “Go on.”
At least he is listening. But the next part is going to be tougher for him—and the Hollisters, I think—to swallow. “Be straight with me, Jed. Why do you object to the Hollister’s going green? Really?”
