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Lennon snickers. “Excellent point. He—”
“Whatever. Fuck it, fine,” Des snarls. “Mom and I have a book club. We read the same books and discuss them. Happy?”
“Oh, I’m fucking ecstatic.” Lennon’s face lights up like a Fourth of July picnic. “Do you serve tea sandwiches on little doilies at your adorable book club?”
E cracks up. Des growls.
“Quit the jokes.” Jake’s stern tone silences the table: Captain Mode engaged. “The book cake sounds great. I’m sure Delilah would love to help. E and Lennon, you two make a list of who to invite and start asking. If we make books the theme, Cal and I can build her a special bookcase for her house.”
We share a round of grunts and nods.
E holds up his beer. “To the best woman we know. We’ll make sure her return to Windfall is memorable.”
We raise our beers and drink to Chelsea Bower, a woman who’s endured more than her share.
“Make way for the food!” Sue-Ann returns, hands full of nachos and wings.
My stomach rumbles, and saliva pools in my mouth. Fuck, I really am hungry, but I don’t let on how famished I am. No need to give Jake more reason to coddle me.
Just as Sue-Ann reaches our table, her attention darts to the front door. “Jo! How bad is it?”
One glance at Jolene’s ashen face, and I’m shoving my chair back, taking long strides to reach her. “What happened?”
She rubs her eyes, while hunching awkwardly. “My apartment’s fucked.”
“Fucked how?”
“Flooded. Whole place is trashed, along with half my stuff. I just…” She glances around the bar, bleary-eyed, like she doesn’t recognize her own business. “I can’t catch a break.”
In seconds, Jolene is surrounded by Bower boys, all of us ready to do battle in her honor.
Jake steps closest to her and runs his hand down her arm. “What’s wrong?”
She flinches, but I can’t tell if it’s from Jake or if she’s just extra upset, and her stiff stance looks uncomfortable. “A pipe burst in my place, and it’ll take weeks to clean up. My sister’s living at my folks’ with her kids, so I can’t crash there. Delilah said I can sleep on the couch, as did Sue-Ann, but my back’s been sore from carrying kegs. Couch sleeping would do me in.” She touches her back reflexively, still standing at an odd angle.
Jake lowers his head to catch her eye. “You can stay with me. My place is—”
“Small and dirty,” Lennon says swiftly. He’s wearing his smug expression, the scheming glint that never fails to have me on edge. “She just said she can’t sleep on the couch, and no one wants to stay in your pigpen. My place is half in shambles since Mags and I started renovating it. But”—he smacks my back—“Callahan has a large two-bedroom. Tons of space. Excessively clean. You can commandeer his place.”
Jo’s eyes widen like it’s the worst idea she’s ever heard. Probably because she doesn’t understand why I’m so hot and cold with her. Jake is staring daggers at Lennon. I have half a mind to jam my elbow into our conniving brother’s ribs. I can barely speak to Jo in public without getting worked up. Living with her is out of the question.
“I’d rather not.” Jo swallows slowly and won’t even look me in the eye. “I don’t want to put anyone out. I’ll just get a blow-up mattress. Live in the bar office while I sort things out.”
“No.” The word is out before I realize I’ve opened my mouth. Nothing hurts me more than seeing Jolene frustrated and upset. Her back is clearly sore. Blow-up mattresses suck. I give her a reassuring nod, while my insides swirl into a cyclone of uncertainty. “Lennon’s right. My place is plenty big. You can stay there as long as you need.”
She nibbles her lip, glancing at Jake, who’s suddenly looking less annoyed. Her attention slowly slides back at me. “You’re sure?”
That this is the worst idea ever? “Absolutely.”
“Okay,” she says, but she doesn’t look relieved. If anything, her brows furrow deeper. “I have stuff to catch up on here. I’ll come over later.”
I nod as she trudges toward her office, still cradling her back. I think she mumbles something like, “Lady Luck frigging hates me.”
The guys return to the greasy food at our table. All but Jake, who’s intent on me. “This is actually good.”
“What’s good?”
“You living with Jo. You’ll be in close quarters. You can get me some intel. Help me figure out the best way to convince her I’m not the guy she thinks.”
