Fire in the Hole

by Tymber Dalton

  “Me, too. We need to start having movie night again. Wylie and I will buy a new couch the three of us can curl up on and we can introduce him to our favorites.”

  She didn’t bother to correct him to add Steve to that invite. She couldn’t imagine Steve wanting to join them, and like hell would she let Steve tell her no.

  “Wylie’s not jealous of me, is he?”

  “No. Why would he? Steve’s not jealous of me, is he?”

  The last thing she wanted to do was lie to Everett. She gave him a little shrug.

  “I don’t want to cause you trouble.”

  “You won’t. I’m not giving you up as a friend, so any problem he might have, he’ll have to deal with.” She hooked an arm through his. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  “Okay. Me, too.”

  When they split up to head to their respective vehicles, she noticed Steve wasn’t in a hurry to follow her across the parking lot.

  She turned, hand out. “Give me the keys.”

  He scowled. “Why?”

  “Because if you’re going to act like a damn toddler, I’m not going to let you drive, and I’m not standing in heat in the parking lot for five minutes because you’re fricking stalling. Give. Me. The. Damn. Keys.”

  She didn’t blink.

  “Watch your language with me,” he huffed.

  “I’m not a child. I’m damn sure not your child. Give me the fucking keys, or get in the damn car. Now. Suck it up. We are going out to eat with them, and you will behave yourself.”

  Finally, he brushed past her and headed for the car.

  When they were inside the car, he started to say something and she cut him off.

  “Let me tell you something right now, Steve. I don’t know where this attitude problem of yours came from today, but you’d best get rid of it.”

  “My attitude problem?”

  “Yeah. This passive-aggressive bullshit. Starting with showing up today after I told you multiple times not to come. If you hadn’t come, you wouldn’t be forced to eat where I want to eat for a change. And I’m not getting rid of my furniture. So knock it off.”

  “You didn’t even bother to ask me if I wanted to eat there. This is a mistake, I’m telling you.”

  “I didn’t ask you because this day isn’t about you. And I don’t understand what’s a mistake?”

  “It’s not right you spending so much time with them.”

  “They’re gay! What is your problem?”

  “It’s…unseemly.”

  “Seriously?”

  “What will people think?”

  She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with an adult in this day and age.

  “Uh, they’ll think we’re friends. You don’t get to pick my friends. If we’re going to play that game, you can get rid of all your friends right this damn minute, because most of them are fucking assholes. You don’t like it? You can drop me at the restaurant and go home. Don’t think I won’t send you home in front of them. I don’t know what your first two wives were like, but I’m no pushover.

  “You asked me to marry you. Now, I’ve been very lenient with you over the past couple of months, and that was my fault. But that stops today. Right now. You said one of the things you admired about me was how independent and outspoken I am. Well, guess what? I am. You have a problem with that? Say so.”

  He didn’t speak as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  She glared at him. That’s what I thought.

  Chapter Two

  Mama Suarez’s wasn’t an expensive restaurant, but the food was good, plentiful, and the atmosphere comfortable. Lara had eaten plenty of meals there with Everett and their friends over the years, the family-run establishment one of their favorite places to eat.

  Boy, had she missed it.

  Steve had engaged what she guessed he thought was chilly silence mode for the entire short ride there.

  Frankly, it was a relief not to have him talking.

  And doesn’t that tell me something?

  She glanced at the ring on her left hand. He’d made a big deal about making sure she’d added it to her renter’s insurance policy due to the value. Sure, it was pretty. Gorgeous. Dr. Steven Ewing, ophthalmologist, wasn’t only successful at work, he came from a family with money.

  Unfortunately, it showed in more ways than one, ways she was only recently starting to notice.

  Uncomfortably notice.

  Actually pay attention to.

  Things she’d seen as sophisticated and worldly before now grated on her as pretentious and annoying.

  Like the way Steve slowly stared around the restaurant’s interior as they were led to a table, obviously dismissing it as a horrible choice far beneath his usual standards.

  Fortunately, they’d beaten the dinner rush to the restaurant, giving them a table to themselves on the far side of the dining room. She’d ended up seated across the table from Everett, with Steve on her right and sitting across from Wylie.

  Lara focused on Everett. “Remember the night I made you snort salsa out your nose?”

  He chuckled. “How could I forget? I was picking crap out of my nose for days, it felt like.”

  “Hey, it cleared out your sinuses.” She grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  Wylie and Everett both laughed.

  She ignored Steve’s silence.

  Wylie turned to Everett. “I have to hear this story, Ma-an.”

  She caught Everett’s gaze, smirking, not about to reveal she suspected Wylie had nearly slipped and called Everett “Master.”

  Everett had admitted to her their unconventional relationship dynamic, which was fine with her. It made sense. When looking at her life, she was “dominant,” too.

  It hadn’t been fair of her to make Everett pull back and suppress that part of his personality just because she was also very dominant. The more time she spent with Everett and Wylie, the more she could see they really were perfect for each other.

  She also felt guilty Everett had tried so hard to change for her, to be someone he wasn’t.

  Because he’d loved her.

  As she told the salsa story, remembering how much fun that day had been, she fought back a sweeping wave of melancholy.

  Did she really love Steve?

  She didn’t have the same kind of “fun” with Steve that she’d had with Everett. Not even the ren fair kind of stuff, but just in general.

  “…so then I said, ‘Rowlaff,’ like the guy had, and this one here had just taken a huge bite of chips and salsa. Right out the nose.”

  Everett smiled and took a sip of water. “Still burns just thinking about it. I’d rather snort soda through my nose than spicy salsa and chewed up chips.”

  Nearly forgotten, Steve spoke from next to her. “Well, you must be used to pain, doing what you do.”

  She turned and stared at Steve. His pursed lips, furrowed brow.

  Oh, no, he didn’t.

  “What do you mean by that?” Everett finally asked when he’d let the uncomfortable silence settle for a moment.

  Lara recognized that tone of voice all too well. That was Everett gearing up for a verbal battle if she ever heard one.

  The thing was…did she side with Ev, or with Steve?

  Honestly? Ev.

  And that was the revelation that made her mind up for her.

  Guess I won’t be moving in with Steve next week. Probably won’t even be engaged to him by next week at this rate.

  Steve blundered on, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was digging himself a hole with a backhoe in turbo mode.

  “Well, I mean, what you do for a living. Welding and…stuff. People like you probably get hurt all the time.”

  Across the table, it looked like Wylie tensed, as if to stand. She saw Everett move his arm under the table, like he laid a hand on Wylie’s thigh to hold him back.

  She would let Ev fight this battle. She’d seen him take on asshats before.

  Frankly, she
was enjoying it.

  She also knew Steve had just stumbled onto one of Ev’s massive triggers, people looking down on him for not being college educated or rich.

  This ought to be good.

  “I’m not just a welder,” Everett said, his tone arctic in temperature. “I’m a metalworker and a blacksmith. It’s a dying art.”

  “My parents showed and jumped horses while we were growing up.” Steve wrinkled his nose again. “There are lots of farriers out there. They even have training schools for it.” He let out a scoffing laugh. “That’s not exactly a ‘dying art.’”

  Now she really wanted to smack Steve. “Ev’s not a farrier. I’ve told you that several times now. He’s an artisan.”

  How many times had she defended Ev’s career to Steve?

  Plenty.

  Steve arched his eyebrows as he studied his menu. “If you say so.”

  “What the hell, Steve? What’s gotten into you?”

  He slapped his menu onto the table. “All I’ve heard from you the past few weeks is Ev this and Ev that. You just divorced the guy. I get it. You probably didn’t want him to fight the divorce, so I assumed you were being nice to them so he’d go through with it. But how much longer do I need to put up with you hanging around with…them?”

  She was trying to decide whether or not to shove the engagement ring up his nose or up his ass when a boy’s voice caught their attention.

  “Ev! Wy!” A smiling teenaged boy ran over and leaned in to hug the two men from behind. Right behind him followed…

  Hellooo, sweetie.

  “What are you guys doing here?” the kid asked.

  “Having dinner, buddy,” Ev said.

  “Duh. Dad had a parent teacher conference and picked me up. Why are you in suits?”

  “We just got done with the final divorce hearing. You and your dad want to join us? We haven’t ordered yet.”

  “Can we, Dad?”

  The mystery hunk shrugged, glancing at her, then Steve. “Sure, if it’s okay with everyone.” He nodded at Lara and removed his ball-cap. “Ma’am.”

  Something in her stomach flipped in a good way.

  In a way Steve had never made her stomach flip.

  In a way it used to flip over Everett.

  Oooookaaaaay, then. Question answered.

  She still wasn’t sure what orifice she’d shove Steve’s engagement ring into, but it wouldn’t be on her finger by the end of the night.

  “Absolutely,” Wylie said, immediately jumping up to help pull the neighboring table against theirs.

  Ev handled the introductions. “Brad and his son, Mark, live across the road from us. He grazes cattle in our pasture, and Mark’s been helping Wylie before and after school, and on the weekends. Mark worked with the previous owner, too.”

  Steve’s chin tipped up just a hair as he studied father and son. “So you’re a farmer or a cowboy?”

  Lara shot Steve a dirty look, but now she realized who the two newcomers were. She hadn’t yet met either one before today, even though she’d heard about them from Ev and Wy.

  “Do a little of a lot of things,” Brad drawled, smiling. He’d ended up seated on Everett’s right, Mark seated across from his father, on Lara’s left. “Was my family’s place and I took it over. My dad had a stroke and couldn’t run it anymore, so he and Mom moved into an assisted living community where she’d have help with him. I grew up there, at the ranch. We moved back when Mark was two, and Mark’s lived there ever since.”

  “So you’ve been running your parents’ place since then?” Everett asked.

  “No, sir. Not full-time. Not at first, anyway. Sold off a lot of property they used to own so they could buy their condo and give them plenty to live off of. Kept five hundred acres and the main house. I still freelance from time to time for extra money, when it suits me and fits into my schedule around Mark’s school activities and stuff.”

  Brad took a sip of water from the glass the waitress had set in front of him.

  Steve chose that moment to break his silence. “Freelance doing what?”

  Lara winced at his tone. Why didn’t I notice how insufferable he was before now? She hoped Brad and Mark didn’t hold Steve’s attitude against her.

  “Chemist. I’m a consultant.”

  Steve let out a harsh-sounding snort. “Chemist? Is that a euphemism for cooking meth or something?”

  “Steve!” She backhanded his shoulder. Hard.

  “I was just kidding, sheesh. Lighten up.”

  A slow smile creased Brad’s handsome features, and Lara didn’t know why, but it made her panties wet. “No, sir. I have a PhD in environmental chemistry from USF. I do a lot of work in the citrus and agricultural industries.”

  Ah, that’s why he smiled like that. He went in for the kill.

  How many times had Lara watched Everett toy with assholes in much the same way over the years?

  And it had gotten him laid plenty of times, too, when she’d jump him as soon as they were home. She loved the predatory way he’d play with them.

  Seems Brad had a streak of that in him, too.

  Brad took another sip of water. “I also hold several lucrative patents, including one for an organic fungicide I developed as part of my doctoral thesis. I’m currently working with a state Department of Ag grant study on fertilizers that will help reduce the toxic algae problem rainwater run-off is creating in Lake O and on both coasts.”

  Holy. Shit.

  She immediately turned her back on Steve and started chatting with Brad and Mark.

  It was that, or she was going to tell Steve to go fuck himself right there. His utter rudeness to everyone was the final straw in what she could clearly see—now—was a doomed relationship.

  Brad wore a clean button-up short-sleeved work shirt, faded jeans, and work boots. His worn baseball cap currently resided in the chair next to him.

  He didn’t look like a rich, semi-retired chemist. He looked like a good ole Florida Cracker cowboy.

  A very handsome Florida Cracker cowboy.

  Steve kept his mouth mostly shut, except to sullenly place his order when the waitress came around to take their orders.

  Once that was done, Lara smiled at Everett. “So when are you and Wylie going to get married?”

  “And which one of you two is the girl?” Steve added.

  Lara turned on him again, jaw gaping. “What the actual fricking hell, Steve?”

  Brad spoke, his tone now sounding low and cold. “Buddy, don’t you have eyes?” Nothing remained of Brad’s previously friendly tone, much less his Old Florida drawl. “Or are you just that damn stupid? They’re both men. Neither of them is a woman.” His words sounded as sharp and piercing as any piece of steel Everett had forged.

  And Lara’s panty status went from probably wet to definitely soaked.

  Overlaid with mortification that Steve was even there in the first place.

  Steve’s face went red as he glanced at Everett and Wylie and then Brad and Mark, and finally Lara.

  “Come on.” Steve forced a laugh. “I was just joking. Can’t anyone at this table take a damn joke?”

  “Wasn’t funny,” Mark said, also glaring down the table toward Steve. “Jerk,” he added.

  Brad didn’t make his son take it back, either.

  Lara knew she’d be handing that ring back to Steve in the car.

  That’ll teach me to not listen to my instincts. “Apologize, Steve. Right now.”

  “I’m not apologizing for a joke. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Me? What the hell is wrong with you? Where is all this garbage coming from all of a sudden? You’ve never acted like this before.”

  Not all at once, at least.

  “Look. I’ve been very patient with you over the past several months. I even stood up to my dad for you. He told me I could do better than—”

  “Stop right there.” Everett shook off Wylie’s grip on his arm as he rose. “Don’t you dare talk to h
er like that.”

  Steve also stood, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “Come on, Lara. Let’s go. I knew this was a bad idea, coming to dinner with them, but once again, you didn’t listen to me, and I was right.”

  She stared up at him. “No. I’m going to stay here and enjoy my dinner with my friends. You can leave, if you want.”

  “You rode with me. You are my fiancée. Get up. We’re leaving. Now.”

  Oh.

  No.

  He.

  Didn’t.

  She coolly smiled at Steve, held up her left hand, pulled the ring off, and laid it on the table.

  Then she flipped him off. “Problem solved. Have a nice life, asshole.”

  “You don’t want to do this.”

  “You’re right. I don’t want to do this, but apparently you aren’t the man you pretended to be the past several months we’ve been seeing each other. And thank god I discovered it now. If I have a choice between sitting here and eating an enjoyable dinner with my friends, or leaving with a guy who’s apparently a douchebag in disguise, I’ll stay with my friends, thanks.”

  Steve snatched the ring off the table. “Last chance. I’m not kidding. I walk out that door, it’s over between us. I’m done with you not listening to me, and I’m done with this nonsense.”

  “She said leave,” Everett said. “We’ll make sure she gets home safely.” She glanced his way and realized his fists were clenched.

  Oh, shit.

  Brad also rose, slowly pushing his chair back. “Mark and I will be glad to drive her home, Ev.”

  Lara smiled up at him. “Steve, go whine to your daddy that the bitchy woman hurt your fwagile widdle feewings.” Her smile faded. “Guess I shouldn’t have ignored my instincts when you talked about your two exes being hard to live with. You’re the common denominator, aintcha?”

  Once Steve had turned on his heel and stormed out, Brad walked around the table and settled in next to Lara.

  She offered him an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Guess that wasn’t the best first impression, huh? Let’s try this again without the douchebag hanging off me.”

  She held out her hand. “Lara Cannon. Ev’s…well, ex-wife, as of about an hour ago. And happily single.”