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Nate spied Beck and motioned him over before shooting off one last text message to Link, and then pocketed his cell. His brother grabbed the frosty mug closest to him and took a good long drink before wiping the corner of his mouth and settling back in his chair.
“You look like shit,” Nate said, taking a sip from his own. His brother had the same athletic build as Nate, tall, with wide shoulders, and, despite a nearly three year age gap, they could pass as twins. Though at the moment, Beck was sporting at least a full week’s worth of facial hair, bleary eyes, and his hair was on the long side, with thick waves curling from under the ball cap and touching his neck.
“I can always trust you for the truth.” Beck winced and stretched his arms over his head. “This is what running on about four hours’ sleep in the last three days looks like.” He paused. “You order any food?”
“Nah. I’m headed to dinner in an hour.”
Beck caught the eye of the waitress and ordered himself a burger and fries.
“You just close a deal?” Nate asked.
Beck shook his head. “Nope. I had an offer on the place I just finished renovating, which is what I was dealing with this morning, and then had to measure up a kitchen for a client.”
Beck Jacobs was the best carpenter in Crystal Lake, which meant he was in high demand, and that allowed him to be choosy with his projects. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, he flipped houses in his spare time, old relics that had fallen into disrepair. Like all the men in the Jacobs family, Beck was stubborn as hell and a bit of a control freak, and most of the time, he only had himself to rely on to finish a job. He told everyone he was fine with it, that he liked being busy. Nate was pretty sure Beck needed to be busy.
“So why didn’t you sell?” Nate asked.
“The place is too special to go to out-of-towners who’re most likely looking to rent it out to turn a profit. I don’t need to unload it at the moment, so I’m keeping my options open.”
“Where is it?”
Beck took another swig. “It’s the old Manchester place.”
“That place is still standing?” That surprised Nate. “Wasn’t there a fire?”
“More than one.” Beck nodded. “It came up for auction a few years back. Unpaid taxes. I got it for a song because the place was pretty much falling apart, and I’ve been working on it since then.”
Hell. The Manchester place. It brought back a lot of memories, and Nate smiled.
“I spent a lot of time in that house and the big-ass barn. Me and the guys and Molly. I don’t even know how many times we had to hightail it out of there because the cops showed looking to bust up trespassers.”
Beck looked away. “Yeah. We all did. I told Cate once I’d buy it for her.”
There it was. The ghost Beck had never been able to shake. After nearly ten years, the pain was still there. Nate heard it roll underneath his brother’s words, and for a moment, the two of them were silent.
“She would have loved how it turned out.” Beck cleared his throat and downed his beer just as Pauline brought him his food.
Nate nursed his draft while his brother ate, and they caught up on the things that mattered among men.
Which team took home the trophy in the local men’s hockey beer league? The Pineys.
Which guy got kicked out of the league for brawling first? Greg Danforth.
How much cash did Harley Banks fork out for his new truck? One hundred and twenty grand.
What the hell kind of engine was worth that kind of cash? The kind that Harley Banks could afford.
Were the Raptors going to repeat their championship? No.
Then there was the fact that Miles LeBlanc’s wife ordered him to give up both the men’s hockey league and his Thursday night golf foursome. He’d also bought her a new Range Rover.
“I heard he cheated,” Beck said.
“Not surprised. He’s always been a dog.”
“Any new clients?” Beck asked.
“I’m working on a deal with Link Major,” Nate said with a grin.
