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Jameson
Yeah, I’m in. Ten?
Elora
Sounds good! See you then.
Maverick
Someone sneak me in?
Kaia
No way. You gotta serve your time, Mav.
Maverick
You all suck.
Rheytt’s placewas a lot like its owner—expensive, classy, and strategic. Contemporary enough to pull in the younger demographic, but rustic enough to feel like old Alaska. He might have been a pain in my ass with all of his Dudley-do-right crap growing up, but my brother could build a fucking business better than anybody. We missed him around here…Imissed him around here, despite being pissed he’d hidden the truth from me. Still too pissed to pick up the damn phone. He’d been calling relentlessly all day long, but I didn’t trust my tongue to not tear into him.
Aside from business, you know what Rhyett was good at? Emotional bullshit. More aptly,articulatingemotional bullshit. Me? Not so much.
The metal clang of my truck door punctuated a decision I would no doubt be describing as hair-brained in no time at all. Tools safely tucked away in the locked cab, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and started walking up toward the bar, cursing as my mind wandered in loops that all led to the same subject. Was she happy here? Was she comfortable with me? With this ridiculous ploy my fat mouth got us into? Should I tell her the damn truth—that I’d already resolved to ask her out before the dumb fuck showed up?
Would Shithead get out of her life anytime soon? Was I a horrible person for feeling bittersweet about that, simply because it would remove my excuse for being in her proximity? Because hell hadn’t frozen over, which meant there was no way I deserved her without it.
For fuck’s sake, it was the most emotion I’d waded through since Grandpops died. And I sure as shit had never waffled with my worthiness to be in a woman’s life.
Opening a door into any establishment in Mistyvale was essentially like stepping out of that magic land behind the wardrobe. What was that movie called?Narnia. Yeah, that’s it. The point is, the wall of warmth was so abrasive it made my skin ache as I entered the Birch Barrel. It was the usual clamor of laughter and voices, music from the jukebox-wired stereo system, and the sharp clatter of somebody breaking apart billiard balls. My hands flexed. I wasn’t a hermit by any means, but I didn’t have a propensity for chaos, either. A drink in my blood and a cue in my hand, and I’d feel right at home in no time.
At least, that’s what I thought until my chest pulled on me like a homing beacon, only for my heart to take an unexpected nosedive. Axel—the golden child—braced his arms around Noel’s little body, his long arms wrapped around her to ‘guide’ her shot with the cue, the Rhodes family anchor on his forearm flexing as she laughed. My blood ran like ice. What. The actual. Fuck? He was talking to her, cheek-to-cheek, as she laughed against him, her eyes sliding closed. I wanted to puke. Actually wanted to empty my stomach of bile. A beat behind nausea was a blind kind of rage, and I had to remind myself of several very important things.
One: Noel wasn’t actually mine. Although, if we were talking about keeping up appearances, that dick head with his groin to her perky little ass certainly wasn’t helping.
Two: The idea of anyone—much less my cocky little brother—touching her made me simultaneously violent and ill. Contrary to the debauched reputation I allowed to flourish around town purely for entertainment, I’d never been one to share and had no intention of finding out if that specific conquest would get me off.
Judging by the way my temper was screaming for retribution for a woman who, technically, owed me no allegiance, I realized I had my answer. Absolutely. Fucking. Not. Air hit my lungs like an ice bath, and I realized I’d forgotten to fucking inhale.Great. My basic autonomic systems were failing.
“Hey James, what can I get you, man?” It was Dan’s voice behind the bar that made me aware I’d wandered over in my haze of territorial frustration. He had a rag tossed over his shoulder, eyes on me expectantly. “You alright?”
“Yeah, just…” I shook my head. “Tired,” I finally answered.
“The usual?”
“Sure.” Like I could give a shit with Axel high-fiving my girl after she sunk her shot right into the pocket. “Make it two.” I didn’t know what the hell her drink of choice would be, but she seemed like the kind of woman who would be enamored by learning the landscape. A local brew might be just up her alley, and with that bubbly little personality, meeting the women behind the flavor would light her the hell up. Dan came and went. Beers in hand, my feet led me to her side, teeth gritting as I reminded myself I couldn’t actually deck my brother for touching the newest addition to our big-ass familytribe.
Noel sunk another ball and leapt backward with her arms raised in victory, cue stick precariously wielded with little regard to her surroundings, nearly hitting my dumbass brother. Not that I’d complain.
My irritation stuttered when that beaming face turned and landed on me.
“Hey!” she chirped, throwing her arms around me, ignoring the way my hands flew out, beers sloshing. Flabbergasted, I couldn’t even give a damn, because she was still beaming when she peeled away. “Did youseethat?!”
The ache of my cheeks made me aware I was mirroring her smile, looking down to where the booze had splashed on the floor. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “Yep, sure did.”
“Axel taught me how to play!”
“I see that,” I said flatly, eyeing my brother as he beamed back at me with a wink. The little fucker. “Looked like a pro to me.”
