Collision Control

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Collision Control Page 7

by C. A. Szarek


  “I’ll say,” her dad said, grinning back.

  They’d had a pleasant meal with funny and natural conversation, but Mel felt alone in the room with the two people she cared about most in the world.

  Her mind refused to abandon thoughts about Jared. It was a holiday. Where was he?

  Was he having a nice day, a nice dinner with family?

  Was he alone in that apartment?

  She still knew where he lived. Mel could seek him out. Head to his place, see him again.

  “Hey, you okay?” Val’s voice made her jump, and Mel looked into her best friend’s blue eyes. All she could read was concern.

  “Yup.” She smiled, and patted Val’s hand before looking at her dad. “Daddy, you want more pie?”

  “No, sugar, I’m full. I can barely move. Too much turkey, mash potatoes, yams. You two outdid yourselves.”

  “Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Mel had been up early, had cooked all day. “Val, wanna help me clean up?”

  “You know I will.” Her searching gaze didn’t waver, but Val smiled. “Then we can head to the tree lighting!”

  Mel groaned. “No way. I don’t want to go.”

  “Jared might be there.”

  She glared at Val and shot a glance at her dad, but he was already dozing at the table. “Daddy, why don’t you head to the living room? The game’s already on.”

  Mel had turned the TV on knowing her dad would fall asleep in the recliner after dinner, like he did every time.

  She always went to the house she’d grown up in for holiday meals. It was a sprawling ranch, the home her dad was most comfortable in. But she missed her small house two streets over. Mel had bought it after a year of being a teacher.

  It was hers. The place she was most comfortable.

  Her dad’s place always felt like it was missing something. And it was.

  Mama.

  Anne Nash had been gone eight years, but it still seemed like yesterday that the breast cancer had taken her. Her dad was only fifty now, but she knew in her gut he’d never move on. Never date again, or remarry. He’d told her many a time her mom had been the love of his life.

  Jack Nash smiled and pushed back from the table. “You girls need help?”

  “No, sir. We’re going to clean up and go watch the fireworks,” Val said, ignoring the shake of Mel’s head.

  She so didn’t want to go out, despite the fantasizing about Jared. She wanted to go home. Curl up on her couch with a good book.

  “Oh, good. I’ve heard they have a big event planned this year. It’s free. Enjoy yourselves. It should be an unusually warm evening for it, too.” He rounded the table and kissed Mel’s cheek, then Val’s.

  “Jack, I wish I could find a man as sweet as you.” Val patted Jack’s thick hand and flashed a grin.

  “Sugar, you need to find a man who can handle you.” Mel’s dad chuckled and Val beamed.

  “Amen, Dad. A-men,” Mel muttered.

  Val winked, instead of being offended. “Still trying to see if he exists. Hey, I know. I might meet him in the park. Tonight.” She waggled her eyebrows and Mel rolled her eyes.

  Jack left the dining room, shaking his head and laughing.

  “Not likely,” Mel said.

  Her best friend jumped up from the table and started piling their dirty dishes. “You never know,” she said in a sing-song voice. She was dressed casually, in jeans and a pink sweater, but as always, Val looked fantastic.

  “Are you in a musical?” Mel grabbed the gravy boat and an empty glass, following Val into the kitchen.

  “Hmmm, already showing signs of withdrawal.”

  “What?” Mel looked up from the plastic container she was about to pour leftover gravy into.

  Val flashed a grin and dipped her head low as she loaded the dishwasher. “You’re grumpy.”

  “Am not.”

  “I rest my case.”

  Mel frowned. “Usually I do speak, Val, but this time I have no fricking clue what you’re talking about.”

  Her friend laughed. “You’re uptight. Showing symptoms of lack of great sex. Just once and you were obviously hooked. Sad, really. ’Cause you could run into him tonight.”

  Mel gasped. “My dad’s here.”

  “In the living room. Two rooms away.” Val pointed with a dirty serving spoon before setting it on the top rack. “You know he’s probably already asleep in his chair, anyway.”

  She let her friend’s retort slide and left the room to get the turkey. Unfortunately, Val was on her heels.

  “You know I’m right.”

  Mel sighed, both hands on the large platter. “About what?”

  “You want to see him again.”

  You are right.

  She’d cut her tongue off before Mel admitted it out loud.

  Val giggled as she grabbed the mash potatoes and the container of sweet yams. “Your silence proves it.”

  “Why are you so concerned about my sex life anyway?” Mel asked when they made it back into the kitchen. She grabbed a knife to get the rest of the turkey off the bone so she could put it into a storage container. “You should get one of your own.”

  Scrunching up her nose, Val nodded. “I’m working on it, believe me. Hence, trying to get you to go with me to the fireworks and the tree lighting.”

  Mel paused. “You meeting someone?”

  “Not really. I mean, I told this guy I might be there.”

  “Who? Are you serious or just making something up to get me to go out?” Mel studied her friend’s blue eyes.

  “Some guy I met at Marty’s who constantly flirts with me. We’ve run into each other a few times. He hasn’t asked me out. Dunno why, ’cause I would go. So I mentioned I might drop by the park Thanksgiving evening when I saw him looking at the poster in the window of the store.”

  “Hmmm…what’s this guy’s name?”

  “Chris.”

  “Chris what?”

  “How the hell should I know? We’ve only flirted.” Val’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m lying?”

  Mel shook her head. “Nope. But I don’t think you’re into this Chris.”

  Val shrugged, hipping the dishwasher shut and turning it on. “He’s cute. There’s potential.”

  “All right.” Mel sighed.

  “You’ll go?” Val’s face lit up and she grinned.

  “Yes, I’ll go.”

  Val cupped her face and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. “I knew I loved you.”

  “It’s kinda required.”

  Her best friend laughed and kicked her leg up. “You bet. I’m gonna slip into something hotter. Be right back.”

  “Yeah yeah,” she muttered, turning back to the bird.

  Jared might be there.

  Val’s words taunted and Mel ignored how her heart sped up, and her stomach flipped.

  * * * *

  Joe gnawed on his thumbnail. He kept one foot moving in front of the other, like pacing was his new favorite past time.

  Although she said nothing, Bran’s eyes tracked him from where she sat on a blanket, her back against the crappy trailer wall.

  Her gaze burned and his stomach flipped.

  Moose had gone to get them something to eat, and she’d refused to leave Joe alone, despite her lover’s urging to go with him.

  He winced at the word in his thoughts. Bran with someone else…

  God, it hurt like a bitch.

  Still.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” Her voice was low, but she was matter-of-fact, not trying to pacify him.

  That would’ve just pissed him off, and his ex knew him well.

  “Rick hasn’t called.”

  “I know.” Same unruffled tone.

  “It’s been two days.”

  “Joe. Breathe.”

  His heart skipped, but he obeyed, sucking in air until his head spun. “What the fuck are we going to do?” He closed his eyes and stilled. Looking at Bran hurt, but he did it anyway. She might not be
with him anymore, but her presence still calmed. Grounded him, like she always had.

  “We’re going to be fine.”

  “What happened to us?” Joe blurted.

  Her mocha eyes widened and she straightened her shoulders.

  Fuck.

  He’d never meant to say that.

  Bran looked as surprised as Joe felt. Pain flickered across her beautiful face, and she averted her gaze.

  His gut tightened. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head, her blonde locks jumping with the movement. “I’m not.”

  “What?”

  Bran met his eyes, her jaw clenched. “I waited for you to ask me that for a year, Joe. A whole year. You pushed and pushed until I broke. I…couldn’t wait anymore.”

  “I know.” Joe made a fist. “I made you give up on me.”

  “I never gave up on you,” Bran whispered.

  His heart stuttered at the tears in her eyes. Joe glued his boots to the tattered carpet. If he didn’t, he’d rush to her side, pull her into his arms and take her mouth.

  He couldn’t. Not anymore. Bran belonged to Moose.

  “If I gave up on you, I wouldn’t be here.” Her low voice washed over him like caress and Joe wanted to sob like a pussy.

  I screwed everything up.

  “Happy fucking Thanksgiving.” Joe buried a hand in his hair. The feel of the new, much shorter cut startled him with its unfamiliarity.

  Bran’s dry laugh had him meeting her eyes. She shrugged and the some of the tension lifted.

  But his chest still fucking burned.

  “We’re together, aren’t we?” she asked.

  Not like I need us to be.

  Joe forced a nod. Silence descended and he sighed as he took a seat next to her on the pile of blankets that served as their bedding.

  “Why are we here?” Her head was cocked to one side.

  “What’d you mean?”

  “You never said, why this place…Antioch, right?”

  His stomach jumped and he cleared his throat. He wasn’t about to reveal Jared. “I dunno. It’s far from New Mexico. Small, unassuming.”

  “Nah.” Bran’s brown gaze scorched as she studied him. “Didn’t you say you spent some time in Texas as a kid? Is this the place?”

  Shit.

  He hadn’t told his gang about his past, but she’d always been different. Pillow talk over the years with the woman he loved had elicited secrets.

  “Not the same place,” Joe said.

  “Bullshit.”

  Joe crushed his eyes shut and blew out a breath. He’d never been able to lie to Brandelyn Willis.

  “Why don’t you tell me the truth? Before Moose gets back?”

  “My brother’s here.” The confession fell from his lips unwanted. Joe looked away from the love of his life.

  “Brother?”

  Her soft hands on his cheeks made his mind go all sorts of forbidden places. Joe didn’t fight her when Bran tugged the two-day beard, and their gazes collided.

  “You never told me you had a brother, Joe.”

  “I can’t think when you touch me.” Confession number two made him wince as much as her wide-as-saucers brown eyes and Bran’s fingertips fell away from his face. Regret roiled his gut. If he’d kept his thought in his head, maybe her hands would still be on him. Hell, maybe he could’ve held her again.

  Bran looked confused—and hurt. “Joe, I’m with Moose.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m happy with Moose.” Her whisper was clear. Honest.

  Like a gut shot in a dirty fight.

  Fuck. Me.

  “I know.” His repetition was a pained croak and Joe’s throat started to close. He swallowed—twice.

  What the fuck is wrong with you, anyway? You have bigger things to worry about than your headfuck over Bran and Moose.

  “He…loves me.”

  Jesus.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

  Her face fell at his hard tone, but Joe had to pack it all away, focus on the problems at hand.

  Rick hadn’t called.

  Bran was asking questions about Jared.

  “You wanna know about my brother?” He pushed to his feet, unable to look at her again.

  She didn’t answer as he started pacing again.

  “He’s a fucking cop.”

  Chapter Nine

  Despite Carrigan being on his ass that morning—frickin’ Thanksgiving morning—Jared hit his parents’ porch almost on time. His partner was taking one for the team and had invited the FBI agent to his and Andi’s house, so she didn’t have to spend the day alone in her hotel room.

  Carrigan had said she wasn’t going to head back to Dallas.

  When Cole had asked her about family, she’d shut him down, but his partner had strong-armed her into agreeing to his place.

  Poor Andi. Carrigan’s a bore.

  Jared glanced at his watch.

  Quarter after twelve, not too shabby.

  When he opened the front door and stepped into the foyer, no one was there to greet him. A mixture of delicious scents tickled his nose, and he heard voices in the kitchen as well as commentary of a football game coming from his dad’s giant TV in the living room.

  Jared smiled as he slipped out of his leather jacket and hung it in the coat closet by the door.

  Home.

  Nothing ever made him feel like this place.

  The shallow bark of a dog sounded at the same time he heard the click click of his dad’s elderly basset hound’s feet on the hardwood floor.

  “A little slow on the uptake, old man, aren’cha? If I was a burglar, I woulda cleaned out the place.”

  Ranger wagged his tail in response and Jared’s smile widened to a grin as he kneeled to pet the dog his parents had gotten when he was in high school.

  Solemn brown eyes met his and he gave the little guy a good scratch behind the ear. The dog groaned and pressed into his hand.

  “Jared!”

  Jenna’s shout had Jared grinning again.

  As soon as he’d straightened, she launched herself at him.

  He chuckled, having no choice but to catch her or they’d both fall on their asses.

  “Jenna, let your brother breathe.” His mother admonished, but there was amusement in her voice.

  His sister ignored her, hugging him tighter and tucking her blonde head under his chin.

  “Oomph. I need to breathe there, kiddo.” But when light blue eyes locked onto his face, it dawned on Jared she wasn’t a kid anymore, not really.

  At twenty-two, Jenna was a beautiful woman. Long flaxen locks, cheeks pink, expression exuding happiness. She was petite and slender as always, but her blue top and jeans were both too tight for his liking—her body was on display.

  When did this happen?

  He suddenly wanted to stomp the fiancé he had yet to meet.

  “I missed you, big brother.”

  “Missed you too.”

  She flashed a grin and stood tiptoed to plant a noisy kiss to his cheek.

  “Are you done accosting your brother so I can hug him?” Mom asked, but she grinned.

  “Gimme a break, Mom. You see him all the time. I live far away.”

  “Oh, I love when women fight over me. Carry on.” Jared winked and pulled his mother into a hug.

  Amy Manning kissed him and patted his chest. “Hi, baby. So glad you could make it.”

  He smiled and met her blue eyes. She’d gotten a haircut since the last time he’d seen her. Her naturally light hair was in a bob, making her look younger and beautiful.

  “I wouldn’t miss Thanksgiving for anything.”

  Jenna beamed when he caught her eye and Ranger circled them, wagging his tail. Though his younger sister could pass as Amy’s biological daughter in looks, his parents had adopted her as an infant. She’d been five when Jared and Joe had come into their household.

  Joe.

  Damn, his brother could be here r
ight now, sharing this holiday with family, if he hadn’t been an idiot.

  He’d never understood his brother’s need to get away. The Mannings had loved him too.

  Jared had never asked Joe why, either. He’d left the past where it lay, but next time he talked to his brother, he should push for an answer.

  God, life woulda been different.

  Did his parents know something he didn’t?

  Cole had told him to relax with his family, and they’d meet up that evening. His partner was probably going to be jonesing to get rid of Carrigan by then—or at least give her something case-related to do.

  There was no way she’d actually relax and enjoy the day. Jared had a hard time picturing her playing with the boys, though it might do her some good.

  Carrigan obviously preferred his partner. Maybe not being former FBI had Jared as a redheaded stepchild in her eyes.

  “Dad! Jared’s here! Derek, come meet my brother!”

  Their mother winced when Jenna yelled, and Jared had to laugh.

  Like old times.

  His sister’s nickname as a kid had been Mouth.

  Jared’s dad, Jason, pulled him into a strong embrace.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Why are y’all standing in the foyer? Is the boy leaving or something?”

  He laughed again, meeting his father’s hazel eyes. “No, sir. Jenna attacked me.”

  “Did not!”

  “Oh, here we go. They’re suddenly children again.” Their mother rolled her eyes and Jared’s dad chuckled.

  “Well come in. Sit down,” Jason Manning said, gesturing to the living room behind him. A lieutenant with the fire department, his dad was still broad and tall, pretty much in shape for fifty-seven, but the years and his wife’s cooking had filled in his midsection a bit.

  He’d been eligible to retire for a few years, but Jared didn’t see his dad quitting work any time soon. He still got in there and led his shift when they fought fires. His father loved being a fireman like Jared loved being a cop.

  “You got the game on?”

  “You bet. Want a beer?” his dad asked.

  “Maybe later. Mom. You need help with anything?”

  “No, baby, relax with your father. For living in the same city, we don’t see you nearly enough.”

  “Good job, Mom. Cut right to the guilt.” Jenna winked.

 

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