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I jog outside, searching for him. He’s halfway to the parking lot, walking at a clipped pace. By the time I reach him, he’s at his truck, already opening the door.
“Jake, wait. We need to talk.”
He doesn’t release the door handle or face me. “Now’s not a good time. We’ll talk later.”
I place my hand on the door and ease it shut, forcing him to face me. “We should talk now.”
He rounds on me, stepping into my space, his eyes on the wild side of unhinged. A look I haven’t seen on Jake since the early days of WITSEC. “I can’t right now, okay? My head’s in a bad place and—”
“I didn’t kiss Jo,” I blurt, but hell. Jake never loses it like this.
His dark eyes are still hard, his attention flicking to the gallery and back. He heaves out a gusty sigh. “Of course you didn’t kiss Jo. Fucking rumors in this town are brutal. I’d never believe that bullshit.”
Because he would never believe I’d betray him.
Because he trusts me implicitly.
Because we’re a family who’s been through hell and back, and we’d rather die than see one another hurt.
Guilt is a mudslide in my gut. The conversation I wanted to broach with him—Jolene, how deep I’m in with her, that I’m dying to find out if she’s as into me too—gets buried under all that rubble.
“I’m pretty sure Jo spoke to you about her feelings,” I say. “That she doesn’t feel the same as you. If you’re upset and need to talk, I’m here for you. Always.”
He digs the toe of his boot into the parking lot’s loose gravel. “I’m not up for talking right now. Need some time on my own. Thanks, though. Always appreciated.”
He hops into his truck, leaving me in a cloud of dust and misery.
Based on that stilted talk, there’s no future for Jo and me. Not if my brother is this torn up over her rejection. My only option is to kill any and all fantasies I’ve been nursing. Quit imagining impossible things. Which means, I need to get Jolene out of my home, especially if I want to salvage our friendship.
Pacing an edgy line, I call Sandra, who picks up swiftly. “What do you need?”
“Jolene’s current landlord from her apartment—I need his contact information.”
“Is he slacking off on getting the repair work done?”
“No, but I can speed up the process.”
Offer cheap labor he can’t refuse. Work in the later evenings after his other crew is gone. Get Jo’s flooded apartment in tip-top shape, so she can move out of my home and hopefully out of my heart.
“And Dean of Dean Electric,” I say. “I need him to make room for a job at Lennon’s house. I bartered with him, offered to help build his toolshed, but he hasn’t reached out to me or Lennon. We need to delay one of his jobs so he can fit Lennon’s in.” Get those wires fixed before they cause damage.
“Leave it with me.”
I try to absorb Sandra’s confidence. Try to believe everything will be okay. With my family. With Jolene. But I’m having a hell of a time seeing the bright side lately.
chaptertwenty-four
Callahan
Kitchen renovating is usually my favorite type of work. I thrive on the precision of it. Exact measurements that allow a cabinet to sit flush or a fridge to slide in perfectly. When focus and attention to detail are in play, everything works out as it should.
Today, I’m moving as efficiently as a run-down Chevy.
“I need a beer tonight,” Jake says as he walks in from building the kitchen cabinets outside. “We should head to a bar outside of Windfall. Change of scenery.”
“Sure,” I say, knowing full well there will be no beers. The only thing I’m doing tonight is working on Jolene’s damaged apartment. If I tell Jake as much, he’ll get on my case. It’s much easier to beg off beers later. Claim tiredness instead of having a night out.
Jake frowns at the wood boards in my hands. “Those are two-by-sixes.”
