by Cindy Miles
At his truck door he glanced over his head at me. “It’s 9-1-1. Bye, Miss Thibodeaux.”
Strike!
Still, I just kept on with my confidence and that same cunning smile. I would not be deterred! “That number seems awfully familiar.” I hollered. “You sure that’s the right one?”
The engine turned over and he put the truck into gear. “’Night, Memory.”
“Thanks for fixing my Jeep, Jace Beaumont!”
He was still grinning, his teeth a white glow in the depths of his darkened cab as he turned the truck around and headed down the lane toward the highway. I watched until the taillights turned left, and then I sat on the steps. Captain Gregg ambled up and plopped down beside me.
I listened to the night as it crept over the trees and stretched to the barn, the porch, until it swallowed everything up in its path. I liked this time of day, when the nighttime gobbled everything up. It wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t peaceful. There was more chatter amongst the forest animals and birds than you could possibly conceive. Almost like another dimension, perhaps. I imagined all sorts of creatures peeking out of their homes, waiting for the safety of nightfall before venturing out for a little furry four legged grocery shopping. Narnia. Terabithia. Oz. The thought made me smile. I liked it like that. Noisy. Lively.
Full of life.
I leaned my head against the post and stretched out my legs, crossing my rubber-booted feet at the ankles. My thoughts inescapably returned to Jace Beaumont. How could they not? I mean, holy hell, he was something else. Not just hot. He had that thing. Not all guys had it. Jace Beaumont wallowed in it.
Funny thing was, I bet he didn’t even know it.
There was a certain suave confidence and coolness that hovered just below his easy-going exterior. He looked like he could beat the hell out of someone.
He also looked like he possessed the absolute control not to. Until pushed, that is.
Little Joe let out a whinny, and it carried across the paddock to the porch, and I scratched Captain Gregg’s head. “There’s just something about him, Cap, that makes me want to pursue. It doesn’t matter that he keeps brushing me off—even with a smile, he’s doing it.” I grasped Captain’s chin, forcing him to look at me, as if he could provide a logical explanation. “Do you think he’s yella, boy? Just too scared of big ole me?” I smiled to myself and gave Captain Gregg another scratch. “You know, he thinks I’m a cray-cray drunken college girl, old boy. Imagine that? Little ole me—an innocent girl from Acadiana,” I said softly, then chuckled. “I guess I’ll just let him.” I sighed and fixed my stare on a cluster of particularly bright stars hovering high over Little Joe’s pasture. “If it’s meant for him to see through his self-appointed veil of illogical absurdities, well, he either will or he won’t.” I smiled into the night. “Either way, it’ll be fun watching him figure it out.”
“Dear Lord Jesus, please let her be here to see me.”
I looked up from the engine I was working on and peered over at Toby Grimes. Early forties, he was divorced for the second time and always on the prowl. Always. Since his gaze was fixed behind me, toward the double-rolled doors of the garage, I looked, too.
God Almighty.
I blinked, just to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. It was late in the afternoon and I’d stayed up until two studying for a calculus exam. But when I blinked a few more times, I knew. Unmistakably knew.
It was her.
“I think I’ve fuckin’ died and gone to Amazon heaven,” Todd Ganer, another younger guy, muttered. He’d pushed himself out from beneath the car he was changing the oil on, just to see what the fuss was about.
“Dibs,” Neil Davies said. A freshman, he’d just been hired for cleanup.
“There ain’t no fuckin’ dibs, you peckerwood,” Toby said. “Your little carrot couldn’t handle that anyway, boy.”
Everyone laughed. Except me. Although, Toby was right. No way in hell could Neil handle what strode toward us. Maybe none of us could.
And everyone stared, traps open, as Miss Memory Thibodeaux strutted every inch of her five foot eleven inch frame across the parking lot. Her long black hair was straight, hanging halfway down her back. The sun glinted off of it and it shined like ink in contrast to her pale, flawless skin. She wore a form-fitting red dress that hugged her curves, and the black heels she had on gave her an extra inch or two. She looked like something from a movie, with big sunglasses and red lipstick that covered her full lips. She almost looked like she’d stepped out of the forties.
God Almighty damn.
We were all speechless as she strutted into the garage and directly up to me.
“Shit,” I heard Toby whisper beneath his breath, and none too quiet.
We were eye-to-eye now, Memory and I, since she had on those tall heels. A wide smile cracked her face in two, and when she spoke to me it was as if Toby and the guys weren’t there. As if no one at all was there.
Except the two of us.
“So,” Memory said with feigned exasperation. “Since you were kind and generous enough to fix my Jeep, I insist, Jace Beaumont, that you allow me to take you to dinner.” She pulled her glasses down, just a bit. Just enough to flash those violet blue eyes at me. “I’ll simply not take no for an answer.” She bit her lip, a coy and extremely sexy maneuver that I’d known she’d done on purpose. The girl was tenacious, if anything. And full of confidence. She damn sure didn’t give up easy.
I sighed and set the wrench on my workbench. “It’s really not necessary, ma’am,” I started.
A slow, easy, saucy smile pulled over her teeth. “I said, I insist.”
A glance at the guys affirmed my suspicion. They were in total shock.
“Okay,” I agreed. “I accept.” Because if I didn’t there’d be no telling what she’d say or do to get me to.
Her smile was predatory. Wicked. And full of victory. “What time do you get off work?”
“Not until nine tonight,” I answered. I knew that wasn’t going to slow her down, though.
“What about tomorrow?” she asked.
I nodded. “Off tomorrow.”
All of her teeth showed. “Golden! Meet me at my house at four. And leave your tux behind. Actually, make sure you wear hiking boots or something like that. You know. Comfy. And a jacket.” She turned and began her strut out of the shop. Then she flipped a glance over her shoulder. “Don’t stand me up now, Mr. Beaumont. I’ll find you if you do and, trust me, you’ll be sorrier than sorry.”
I rubbed my jaw and watched her walk to her Jeep. Long, leggy strides that made her hips twist and her backside…twist harder.
What in the hell was she up to?
I hadn’t even realized I’d walked to the garage opening, just to watch her leave. A heavy arm draped over my shoulder.
“Damn, son,” Toby said next to me. “Have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind?” He gave me a shake. “That woman all but had to beg you to go out with her.”
“You already got a girl?” Neil asked. “She sounds a little scary.”
“Why would that matter?” Toby insisted. “What she could do with them long legs—“
“That’s why you’re divorced,” I answered. I’d told them very little about my private life. Only the people I was close to, like my sister Olivia, and her boyfriend Brax, really knew me. And old Jasper. Definitely not Toby. I looked at them. Leveled my gaze at each one. Shoved Toby’s arm off my shoulder. “And watch your shit mouth with her.”
Toby, who wore his dark hair that had shots of gray in it in a ponytail, held his hands up in defense. “Whoa. You got it, chief. No need to get all hostile. Territorial. Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
I gave them all another glare, just to make sure they knew I wasn’t horsing around, then grabbed my wrench and started back to work on the engine.
And tried to bury Memory Thibodeaux’s cute little ass in that sexy dress into the back of my mind. Jesus. That’s the very last thing I needed. She was the v
ery last thing I needed. I’d probably cancel anyway. Nothing good could come from the likes of Memory Thibodeaux. She’d made it all too clear what she was after. And while she was damn witty, funny, and drop dead gorgeous, she was ultimately a player. A good-time girl. I’d have to watch it with her. That had all kinds of crazy, all over it.
Funny. Wasn’t the guy supposed to be the player?
The guys dropped the subject, and by the time I got home that night it was almost nine thirty. Brax and Olivia were just leaving on Brax’s bike. They stopped as I pulled in.
“Hey, big brother,” Olivia said. She had her long curls maneuvered into a braid, and she gave me her signature sweet smile. “We stopped by to see if you wanted to go grab some breakfast for supper at Hattie’s.”
“Your sister eats like a horse,” Brax said with a grin. “Eats more than me, swear to God. How ‘bout it?”
Olivia elbowed him, and he kissed her on the nose.
My stomach rumbled at the mention of food. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll follow you.”
Hattie’s was an all-night cafe we frequented. Two miles out of Winston’s main gates, it was only five minutes from my apartment. I followed Brax’s taillight and pulled in beside him. There were a handful of vehicles in the parking lot, and when we walked in, we grabbed a booth near the back. I slid into one side, Brax and Olivia the other. A waitress appeared.
“Do you need to see menus?” she asked.
“Not me. Apple cinnamon pancakes and sausage,” Olivia announced. “And a large chocolate milk. I’ve been dreaming about it all day.”
“That sounds good to me,” I agreed.
“Same,” Brax said.
“Comin’ right up,” the waitress said with a grin, and disappeared with our order.
“I called your brother earlier today, but I got his voicemail. A job’s come open at the shop. Thought he might be interested.” I met Brax’s stare. “We could use his mechanic skills.”
Brax sat back and studied me, then nodded. “Harper got a call from the detective who handled her parents’ murder case.” He picked at his napkin. “Told her she might want to come for those fuckwads’ trial. For closure.” He gave Olivia a quick glance and then leaned close and kissed her cheek. “Pardon my French, Gracie.” My sister just smiled and leaned against him, and Brax returned his strange gaze to me.
“How is she doing?” I asked. I didn’t know Harper well, but well enough to know life had handed her a complete shitload, and at a very young age. Kane had brought her to the ranch a few times with Brax and Olivia. At first she’d been shy around my family, but over time, she’d opened up. There wasn’t a soul Sadie Beaumont couldn’t coax out of a shell. And, Kane watched her like a hawk. Protective. If ever a couple were destined to be together, it was Kane and Harper.
“She might not look it, but that’s one strong ass little chick,” Brax said. “After that detective threw her into shock in the quad, told her he’d tracked down the men responsible for her parents’ death, she’s accepted her past.” He shrugged, glanced at Olivia, and his mouth softened. “We all have to at some point.”
Brax knew that better than anyone, I suspected. We were all quiet for a moment after that.
“So,” Brax finally said. He folded his hands in front of him on the table. The letters goin were tattooed in black ink on the knuckles of one hand, with down on the other. Goin down. He’d definitely earned his badass reputation. Not a textbook handsome guy, but something the girls definitely were drawn to. Scars on his face. On his neck. And covered in tattoos, he wouldn’t typically be the guy I’d want to be interested in my sister. After getting to know him, though, I’d changed my mind. There was no one else I’d rather have for my sister. Somehow, Olivia had pulled the genuine good right out of him and he saw no other girl, save her. And he treated her like a chunk of gold. Still rough around the edges, but a pretty decent guy.
As he should treat her like gold. My sister deserved it. She was a total sweetheart.
I looked at Brax’s scarred face and flashing blue eyes as he waited for me to comment. “So?” I repeated. I already knew where he was going, but I waited for it anyway.
“Memory Thibodeaux,” Brax said.
I pulled the little peg game from beside the salt and pepper and pushed it between me and Olivia. She began the game. “Yep,” I answered. “What about her?”
“Her reputation is about as phenomenal as mine,” Brax continued.
“Brax, don’t judge,” Olivia said, moving her peg. “She’s nice. And really smart.”
“And can throw back whiskey with the best of us,” Brax added. He leveled his gaze at me. “Hey, I’m not discouraging. Olivia’s right. She’s cool as hell.”
“I said she was nice and super smart,” Olivia corrected. She looked at him. “Who are you, the dating police?”
Brax chucked Olivia under the chin. “You’re wicked cute when you’re a smart ass.” Olivia grinned and leaned against him.
He hadn’t lost an ounce of his thick Boston accent. “I’m not dating anyone,” I offered, and moved my peg. I really didn’t want to talk about this.
“Bro, I’m just letting you know what you’re up against,” Brax continued. “I’ve never seen her with one guy for too long.” He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that, if you’re up front about it. And she is.”
“Hmm. Good thing I ignored your nasty ole reputation when you slammed into me on the girl’s dorm lawn,” Olivia stated, and looked at Brax. “Before my first day was over you’d knocked me over, kissed me, and I’d had a handful of people I’d never even met before insist I stay away from you and your deviltry.”
Brax’s expression softened as he turned his gaze to Olivia. “Damn, Sunshine,” he said gently. “I’m glad as hell you ignored them.” He stared at my sister for a second longer, and Olivia blushed clean to her roots. Then he looked at me. “I’m not talking shit about her, Jace,” Brax said. “I like her. She’s a cool chick. But you’re my bro, so I had to give you a heads-up. Just as long as you know she’s a serious partying Betty, you’re good. And,” he added. “she is a wicked daredevil. She’s done some pretty sick shit.”
Now that was interesting. But before I could ask Brax about it, the waitress showed up with our food. She quickly unloaded heavy white plates filled with steaming apple pancakes and sausage links onto the table, followed by our drinks. She plunked down two metal bowls of butter, a large glass of warmed syrup, and we all dug in. We ate in silence for several minutes, the apple cinnamon pancakes all but melting in my mouth. Damn, I was hungry. And curious.
“What kind of sick shit,” I inquired.
Brax leaned back and wiped his mouth on his napkin. When his hand moved, a big cocky smile broke his face in half. It almost made me crack. “Like a serious adrenaline junkie, man. Bungee jumping. Skydiving. I know a bunch of them just zip-lined over Cooper’s gorge over Christmas. Not to mention,” Brax winked, “her wicked shenanigans at Winston. Badass ink. Love of classic rock.” He grinned. “Most guys’ total package.” He gave Olivia an affectionate stare. “Unless you’re into badass cowgirl stargazing geeks.”
My sister ribbed him with her elbow and shook her head.
An adrenaline junkie. A ragin’ Cajun. I could see both. She seemed to have an extremely free spirit that wasn’t entirely too unappealing. And she was naturally beautiful. Like Olivia.
Memory Thibodeaux just wasn’t practical. Not for me, anyway. Not to sound like I had a stick up my ass, but it was true. My wild days were over.
A smile pulled at my mouth, unavoidable, and out of my control. It’s exactly how Memory had described me. A stick up my ass. Damn. Sounded like something Grandpa Jilly would’ve said. I sure missed that old guy. It was hard to believe he’d been gone for so long already.
“Well,” I finally answered after taking a long swig of chocolate milk. “She is definitely tenacious.”
Olivia’s fork stopped at her mouth. “What do you mean by that?”
; I stabbed what was left of my sausage and looked at her. “She showed up at the garage today. Dressed to the damn nines, too. Insisted she repay me for replacing the belt on her Jeep.” I shrugged. “I agreed. Just dinner.”
“Oh, man,” Brax said with a grin. “You’re already in a shitload of trouble, Beaumont.” He cocked his head and stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Why’d you do it? Say yes?”
I shrugged and grinned at him. “Swear to God, I have no idea.”
Olivia smiled, pushed a forkful of pancake into her mouth and studied me as she chewed. When she finished, she wiped her mouth. “I think she’s beautiful and uniquely free-spirited.” She sipped her milk through a straw and looked at me with eyes the same color as mine. “But I know you’ve got a soft heart and a level head beneath all that muscle and bluster, big brother. So just be careful.”
By the time we left and I’d made it back to my apartment, it was nearly eleven, and I was beat. Early classes, afternoons at the garage and late-night towing plus late-night studying was starting to take a toll on me. I was used to hard chores and hard work, all day long. I’d started running with Olivia and Brax, plus I did my own workout before bed each night. I locked the door behind me and tossed my truck keys on the counter. In the bedroom I toed off my boots, socks, kicked off my jeans, work shirt, and started my sit-ups until the muscles in my abdomen burned like hell. Finished with those, I did a series of push-ups before grabbing the bar I’d mounted in my doorway and completing as many pull-ups as my body would let me. After a twenty-minute workout on the boxing bag I could feel every muscle used, and I’d broken a fierce sweat. After a shower I brushed my teeth and flung across my bed. Making sure my alarm was set on my phone, I hit the light. I thought sleep would hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was dead fucking wrong.
Instead, a tall, curvy, long-legged and raven-haired girl with wide eyes the color of Texas bluebonnets flashed across my mind. Her unusual accent, loud laugh and cocky stride wouldn’t leave me. She’d marched right into the goddamn garage, given me one of her knickertwisters and insisted on a date. Insisted, or else.