by Kali Brixton
“I pr-probably shouldn’t.”
“It’s okay. My mommy can tell your mommy where you are.”
The mere mention of my mom made my stomach turn sour. How do I explain I don’t have a mom because she left? “No. I have t-to get back.”
“Okay. Bye, Deacon!” She gave me another quick hug and took off running to meet a boy with wavy blond hair, followed closely by two younger boys whose identical features were similar to his.
“You know you’re not supposed to go this far.”
“I was helping my friend Deacon.” Charlotte’s voice trailed off as she chattered about while they walked back to the big white house. “I promised his dog I would, and you know we aren’t supposed to break promises, Aidan. It’s not nice.”
I pushed the wheelbarrow into the shed and put the shovel back where I found it. Today wasn’t a good day, not in the least, but the happiness I felt when Charlotte held my hand? I could get used to more of that feeling—a lot more used to it.
Present Day
I didn’t realize it at the time, but the first time she held my hand, she took my heart with it. It was the first time in my life something was stolen from me that I never wanted back because from that moment on, it was always hers. And now, my heart is sitting here, clinging to life, and I wish I could go back to that day when things were simpler, and I first had the privilege of holding my girl’s hand.
The last seventeen years have been a series of ill-timed events, but these past six months take the cake. If only I would have known when I walked through that office door what it would bring…
Chapter Two
Charlotte
6 Months Ago
I’m going to kill my brother. It’s that simple: he’s dead. Dead dead deady dead. What’s worse is he has the nerve, the gall, to stand there with that big Cheshire grin and his annoying left-cheeked dimple, trying to look innocent. That might work on other girls but not on me. Nor on…
“Surprise!” He seemed mighty pleased with himself. Time to knock that confidence down a few pegs.
"Don’t you surprise me!” A quick swat to his arm punctuated my point. “Why on Earth would you not tell me that he’s gonna be working here now?”
That stupid grin faltered just for a second. “I thought you’d be happy?”
“Really? You thought it was okay to ambush me like this?” My fingers clenched around the yellow sticky note with a bunch of names scribbled on it. “A piece of paper with his name written on it. That’s how you tell me?”
Innocent act dropped, he plopped back down in the seat he had vacated earlier for our morning meeting. “Okay. I might not have thought that one through completely.” He ran a hand through his sweaty mop of blond hair. “I was going to tell you last night, but I forgot.”
Yeah, right. “No, you didn’t. And even if it had slipped your mind—which we both know it didn’t—why didn’t you mention it when we had our meeting this morning?”
“Biscuit hangover?”
My lips pursed with the sour taste this conversation had already left in my mouth. “Real reason, Grey.”
I didn’t miss the slight glance at the phone in his hand nor the guilty look on his face. “Charlotte, you know we need the help.”
“Yeah. And there are plenty of other men in this town who could use the job.”
A sober expression came over him. “Look, he’s skilled. Dad trained him himself, just like the rest of us, and we know we can trust him. Mom and Dad love him, and he’s our—"
“Don’t you even think about finishing that sentence, Grey. Do not guilt trip me because he’s ‘family.’” There was little conviction in my air quotes, but enough to make my point.
“He is family to us.” Point not made, obviously. “But, I think we can agree he’s been our friend a lot longer than that.”
All fair points to Grey’s credit. But I also know my brother; these are reasons, not the root cause. “What are you really up to?” A blush settled into his already rosy cheeks, warm from the humid heat. “Grey, I can read you like a book. What are you doing?”
“Charlotte, we need him. And I know how you—”—a glare had him considering his words carefully—“used to feel about him. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but don’t you think he deserves a second chance?”
“Not going to happen. We have a strict non-fraternization company policy against dating coworkers.” A weak argument, but I was grasping at straws.
“First of all, that’s your rule. Dad only approved it so nobody would hit on you, and we didn’t lose our shirts. I don’t have the money to be sued for beating up an employee, and neither does he.”
“Right. So, I’m sure as acting CEO of this company you realize that includes everyone. Correct?”
A puff of annoyance left his mouth. “Deacon isn’t just anyone, Charlotte.” He leveled his brotherly stare at me—tender and annoying all at once.
I’m never confiding in him again.
“While he works for this company, he is. We have a company to save, Grey, and I don’t need the distraction.” I decided to go for broke and give him the eyes. “Promise me you will keep him away from this office.”
“Charlotte, I send guys here all the time when I’m not able to come and get something myself. I have a crew of men to oversee and I can’t always—”
Bigger eyes, Charlotte. Glassier. Don’t be afraid to turn on the waterworks. “Promise me.” A hand on his arm for a more subtle effect.
A puff of air revealed his defeat. “Yeah, yeah. I promise.” He stood up and gently grabbed my shoulders, pulling me into a hug. “Geez, sis. I didn’t realize you’d get so tore up about him working here.”
I knew he was sincere, so I begrudgingly returned it. “I bet.” He chuckled deeply, and I smiled, reveling in the peace of this moment. But, the warmth of his love was quickly pushed out by the stench of his sweat and the way it was seeping into my shirt. “Ewwww. You’re all gross.” I shoved at him, not even making a dent in the space between us.
He chuckled as squeezed me tighter, then released me and took a few steps back. “It’s called work, Charlotte. You should try it sometime.”
“Haha.” I wadded up my used napkin from breakfast and tossed it at him, which barely reached his shoe. Stupid gravity.
“Besides, women love a man who puts in a hard day’s work and has the proof to show it.” Just for good measure, the idiot flexed his sweaty biceps, earning him a very pronounced eye roll.
“Yeah. Women who are not your sister, you moron.” I swatted at the tip of his hard hat to round out my point.
He patted my head like he always did when we were little, placating and patronizing me all in the same move. “Fair enough.”
I grabbed his hand and gave him an earnest look. “I’m serious, Grey. There’s a reason I want some distance between us.”
The playful look of his face clouded over, pinching his handsome boy-like features together. “Did something happen? Did he…did he do something to you?” A look of disdain mottled his expression, a clear message in his word choice.
I couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of words. “No, Grey.” He did not need to know the real answer to that line of questioning. “Look, I’m not getting into it right now. Take the answer I’m giving you, be a good brother for once, and honor my request.”
His dark blonde brows shot up. “For once? I take offense to that.”
“Take away,” I waved my right hand in a show-and-tell manner, coupled with a playful grin. “Prove to me you are a good one, and I’ll eat my words.”
“Do you know who my competition is? Mason. Mason “King of All A-Holes” Kasen. That’s who you’re comparing me to, Charlotte.” To his credit, he looked halfway offended and disgusted, but as surly and grouchy as Mason could be, Grey was the easiest one to talk to, which also meant he meddled the most. A fact he knew well that also made him immensely proud. My good friend Elsie, who was about 70 years Grey’s senior, didn’t even meddle tha
t much—and that was saying something.
“Mason didn’t give Deacon a job here.”
“Yeah. And he also wouldn’t pi—”—a raised eyebrow, the same eyebrow maneuver Lynn Kasen had used with the boys when they were getting ready to say something they shouldn’t in mixed company, warned him—“Pee on him if he was on fire.” Point to Mom—Southern manners still ruled the Kasen roost. “I happen to think I’m pretty delightful compared to him.”
“Sometimes.”
“Please. If Mom and Dad weren’t present for our birth, there’s no way I’d believe that we shared a womb.”
“I’m sure he takes just as much offense to the idea as you.”
A grumble was all I got in reply. Grey stood, placing his hard hat back on that thick blond skull of his and righted his sunglasses on his face once more. “Just give him a chance. That’s all I ask, Char.” The door squeaked as he opened it, warm air from the sultry summer day rushing in. A solemn look passed across his features. “You know A would have wanted you all to get along.”
Dang. You can’t trump the deceased brother card. “Fine. Consider your wish granted.”
“Whoa! Do I get two more? I want to get a new dually, and I could use a—”
“Get back to work, smarty pants.” I walked to Daddy’s antiquated filing cabinet and opened the creaky second drawer to get out the paperwork for our newcomers. “Send in the troops when they’ve been debriefed.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” I was too entrenched in thumbing through the cabinet to be sure, but I’d bet my bottom dollar a salute followed up that last remark. Ugh. Brothers.
My dad was many things, but tech-savvy was not one of them. Everything was done the old-fashioned way for the most part, including filling out applications. He believed a person would be more honest if they had to fill it out in their own handwriting. Unfortunately, even mine and Grey’s optimistic attitudes couldn’t buy into that in today’s time. I swung around to place them on the desk when my hip decided to be two sizes too big and bump into the
The handful of paperwork packets I had in my hand dropped unceremoniously and saw them flutter to the ground like proud little butterflies. I let out a frustrated puff of air and dropped to my jean-covered knees to pick them up. I had just bundled them and snapped the edges down on the hard floor to make sure they were all straight when a throat cleared and startled me. In the split second before the top of my head collided with the bottom edge of the open filing drawer, my brain had already registered that deep timbre, and my heartstrings vibrated with the familiar sound. It can’t be.
“Shit. Are you okay?”
Owww was all I could mutter, but I couldn’t tell if it was from my aching head or my hurt pride. I felt my hand lift from where it was rubbing the sore spot and sensed a foreign sensation roaming around the same area.
Why in the world Deacon Devereaux thought he had a right to put a hand on top of my possibly cracked skull, trying to soothe the pain away, was a mystery to me. Who does he think he is? He’d already cracked my heart a long time ago, so what was one more vital body part, I guess. His big hand felt so good as he checked my head for a gash, but the way his fingers now danced across the area in a massaging manner, I assumed no stitches or band-aids were needed. If only that could fix a broken heart.
I came to my senses and steeled my spine, smacking his hand away. “Language.” I looked up, losing some of my resolve as a piercing stare found my bewildered one. Big mistake.
Arctic blue eyes framed with coal-dusted lashes squinted in amusement. “Still got your wits about you, then?”
“Yes, I do,” I spat in his direction, a slight pout taking its place on my face, and scurried up to my feet to release a little of this sudden burst of nervous energy and embarrassment.
He leaned further down to pick up the application papers that I had just reorganized. An electronic application never earned someone a busted head. Still down on one knee, he handed me the stack that had seen more of the floor than my hand.
“Thank you.” Irritated or not, I still had manners, dang it. Lynn Kasen made sure we all did.
He nodded, taking the time to close the offending drawer, which still stuck out from the filing cabinet before rising to his full 6’4” height, making him at least a whole foot taller than me.
I ignored the familiar flutters in my stomach and grabbed onto my anger in a white-knuckled grip. “Why are you here, Deacon?”
He tapped the bill of his hard hat and grinned, “Looks like I’m on the new crew.”
I looked at the yellow dome atop his head, noticing it for the first time since he crept into the office.
“Seems that way. Otherwise, that hard hat would seem like a big fashion faux pas right now.” His grin at my sassiness fueled the fire even hotter in my veins. “I meant, what are you doing in the office right now? You should be out there with the crew getting the daily rundown.”
“Grey forgot this.” He reached down to pick up Grey’s phone—the one he never forgets—brushing my arm in the process. “What’s with all the sass?”
“What’s with the third degree? I don’t need another brotherly pep talk this morning about my attitude.”
His grin faltered at my barb. “Last I checked, my license still had Devereaux listed as my last name, not Kasen.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. But, honorary Kasen family member status aside, we’re not related.”
I scrunched up my face, trying to figure out his angle. Every single guy who had shown the least bit of interest in me, every person who met us at the same time, every girl that came onto him in my presence, had heard the same answer since I was eleven: I’m her older brother. I scoffed. “What? Ashamed to claim us now?”
A deep Vee burrowed between his thick, dark eyebrows. “You know that’s not—”
“Actually, Deacon: I know that family or not, this is a place of business. I’ve got a ton of stuff to do today before I have to leave, so if you’d see yourself out and find my brother to bother, that’d be swell.” I tried to gracefully find my way back to my seat, pretending that bumping my head on the cabinet and now the small stutter in my step caused by a peeled-back piece of linoleum hadn’t just happened.
If I did curse, this would have been a definite “fudge my life” moment.
“Yes, ma’am.” The lock on the door snicked as it closed behind him. I shivered from the chill that worked its way down my spine. The one definitely caused by the semi-working air conditioner—not from him, of course.
Yelp. Fudge my life.
Chapter Three
Deacon
It was damn cute how flustered I could still make her, but nervousness was not what I wanted her to feel in my presence. No, I was on a different mission that had started about 17 years ago and had been derailed long enough. I had a plan, and that plan hopefully ended with the two of us as one. I had spent years running from any and every situation which lead to that, but now, I’m running towards it. Make no mistake about it: Charlotte Kasen would be mine.
Charlotte continued to address the other six guys who sat in the small office with me, each undoubtedly hanging off every single syllable that dripped from that luscious mouth of hers. Charlotte was never able to see what a beauty she was—is, but that’s one of the many things I adore about her. Even though every pair of eyes in the room is on the gorgeous blonde leaning on the old metal desk behind her, she blazed through the packet like it’s business as usual, unaware she was the starlet of everyone’s dirty thoughts right now. Since Grey dropped off the application to me last night, I was prepared when I walked in, leaving me time to sit and take her in: jeans that hugged her ass just right, a Kasen Construction shirt that caressed every beautiful curve she owned from her flared waistline up. Everything about her was magnificent. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one in the room who had noticed. Not that I couldn’t blame them, but if the fuckers thought they had a sliver of a chance with her, that hope was about to ge
t ground to dust.
After Charlotte finished her spiel, she gave each of the men a copy of the safety guidelines and founding principles, coupled with a bright smile. “If you have any questions or concerns, please see Grey, or you can stop by and talk to me. Have a good day, gentlemen. Welcome to the company.”
She turned around to walk to the other side of the desk, a slight sway in her hips—not an I want your attention sway, but a natural rhythm that her body seemed to always step into, like a comfy pair of well-worn shoes. I hung back to talk to her, eyeing each of the men as they walked out, who were getting in their last look at the beauty running the business side of things now. Charles Kasen should have forbidden her from stepping foot on any work property. She was just the kind of distraction that could get people hurt, whether by careless actions or by me pounding the shit out of them for stepping out of bounds. She was too good for every one of us, but that wasn’t going to stop me anymore.
The dark-haired dumbass standing in front of her obviously didn’t get that memo because hearing the last few words out of his mouth let me know I needed to drive home that message to him personally.
“…catch a movie on Saturday?” The poor kid thought he had a shot. Pity. The only shot he was getting today was going to go through his heart if he didn’t put some space between them pronto. I started to interject, knowing Charlotte had a problem saying no to people—well, to people other than me now, apparently—but she surprised me with her answer.
“That’s a very sweet offer, Jimmy, but I don’t date coworkers. Company policy,” she patted his shoulder like he was a little boy that needed comfort. “But, please tell your mother I said hello, and I’ll see her at the studio.”
So, she was still dancing. She still had those beautiful curves, but I could see the way she carried herself: dancer to the core.