by Zoe Dawson
Personally, I felt it was his insecurity. My daddy was toughest on my brothers, and I think Jake wanted to make Daddy notice him instead of showering all his attention on Chase, who didn’t even want my daddy’s regard.
I hadn’t much liked who Jake was in high school. Now that he was in college, he’d changed for the better, but there was still that sharply honed edge just below the surface. After Chase’s defection to the swamp, it seemed to have tempered Jake and affected him in ways he wouldn’t ever reveal to me. He’d gotten what he wanted, but it didn’t seem to make him happy. He would be graduating next year, and he was being prepared to take over the family pecan business.
I missed my brother Chase immensely, but he’d been elusive most of the summer. Verity said she’d seen him and talked to him, but the few times I went by, he hadn’t been home. I wanted to reconnect with him, sad that we had drifted so far apart.
Jake and Braxton especially didn’t get along. There had been more than one tense moment between them. Braxton had never hit my brother, but Jake did plenty of needling to incite him.
I think Jake instinctively knew Braxton liked me. He didn’t like it and took advantage of every opportunity to remind Braxton who he was and where he came from. That he wasn’t good enough for me.
Braxton had already been tall and well-muscled as a teenager, his hair longer than it was now, making him look like a disreputable rocker. He had been in a band over in Lafayette with some older guys. I had managed to sneak off to the bar where he was playing one night. Awed by his smoky, sultry voice, his hard body encased in leather, and those heartbreaker eyes, I’d stood in the shadows and lusted after him.
He didn’t have to work hard in high school to garner female attention. Like his brothers he had innate, effortless charisma. He always sat in the back of the classroom, his long, sexy frame semi-sprawled at his desk, an expression of disinterest on his face, as though he had mentally separated himself from the rest of the class. Braxton was also intelligent, but he never played it up.
“Why do you let him push your buttons, Jake? He does it because he gets a rise out of you. No one else saw him give you the finger. It looked like you attacked him. He didn’t even fight back when he could have.”
“You would be on his side.”
“I’m not on his side.”
“Oh, River, give it up.”
“Oh, Jake. Mind your own business.”
“I never liked the way he looked at you…his reputation. You can’t possibly lower yourself to….”
“Honestly, Jake. Braxton isn’t some skeezy guy on the side of the road. He owns a bar, brings money into our community. Is a responsible, law abiding, hard-working adult. So are Booker and Boone. Mrs. Outlaw is the sweetest person I know. One of my best friends is engaged to Booker and the other is married to Boone. Stop with the Outlaw hate. I am sick of it.”
“Bad choices, if you ask me,” Earl, said from behind me. I hadn’t heard him come out to the patio, but like in the kitchen, Earl always seemed to be lurking in the shadows.
Talk about skeezy. Earl’s eyes roamed over me from my toes to my breasts, lingering at my cleavage. I was very glad I wasn’t in a bikini.
“Those Outlaws are nothing but white trash,” he said sitting down next to me.
I got up from my lounge chair and grabbed my lemonade. “Well, the two of you can have your Outlaw bash party without me.”
“River, come on. I just got home.”
“I’m going to get my nails done. Bye.”
I changed and went down to the garage for my car, but it wouldn’t start.
“Dammit!”
“River,” Jake said walking up to me. When he saw my face, he said, “What’s wrong?”
“It won’t start.”
“Pop the hood.”
“You’re going to help an Outlaw supporter?”
“Pop the damn hood, girl,” he said, giving me one of his rare smiles.
I reached down and pulled the lever and got out. He walked around to the front of the car and peered inside. “When was the last time you had this serviced?”
“Serviced?”
“Typical.”
I nudged him. “Shut up. I don’t like doing domestic stuff. Especially car stuff. I’ve only been home for two months.
He nudged me back. “I’m sorry. Not about that damn Outlaw, but about upsetting you. As long as he stays away from me, I’ll be back at Cambridge in a month.”
“It’s not likely he’s ever going to come here, Jake. He barely tolerates me.”
“Right.” he said giving me one of those brotherly looks. “You’re crazy. But I’m a guy, and I know how a guy looks at a woman he wants. Outlaw looks at you that way. Has always looked at you that way.” He tinkered around and then said, “I can replace these spark plugs for you. That should do it.”
“I have an appointment….”
“I’ll drive you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, what are brothers for?”
I gave him a sly smile. “To be a complete pain in the ass.”
“Don’t let Momma hear you cuss.”
“Right, I’m not the one who gave her the vapors. Well, not totally.”
He chuckled, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him in a long time. He grabbed me around the neck and squeezed. I laughed and dug into his ribs. I knew exactly where Jake was ticklish.
He danced away and play-swung at me, but I slipped in under his arm and went for his ribs again. He convulsed with a bark of laughter and twisted away. “You little sneak.”
“Ha-ha, serves you right.” I said and dragged him over to his car. “The golden boy of Suttontowne is actually going to get his hands dirty and change out my spark plugs?”
“Hey, I’ve got skills,”
I laughed and said, “We better go. I don’t want to keep Sky waiting.”
“Sky?”
“Skylar Bransom. Yeah, she’s from the Midwest or Montana or some cowboy state. She bought the old nail place and has renovated it into the Blue Coyote Spa. It’s heavenly to have New York-style services here.”
After I was settled into the passenger side, we were on our way.
“Are you going to see Chase while you’re here?”
Jake’s lips tightened. “Isn’t he buried under a layer of bayou mud?”
“Don’t judge him, Jake.”
“He always was a pussy.”
“Jake!”
“If I can find him, we’ll hook up.”
“That’s better.”
We sped through the bayou and soon arrived at the Blue Coyote.
Jake got out and followed me inside.
“Hey, River!” Aubree said, and I stopped to talk to her, but Jake kept walking. I saw him do a double-take and then walk right into a column.
I turned to look to see what had caught his attention and saw Sky reaching up to put some towels on a rack. She was dressed in a green and white-checked dress, a red shrug, and tooled red cowboy boots. Her long, dark hair was in one long braid down her back. The towels tipped precariously. Jake shook his head clear, and before I knew it, he was right behind her supporting the bundle until they were situated on the rack. He was so close to her when she turned, she brushed against him and, to my delight, he didn’t move back, just stood there gaping like a fool. He looked…thunderstruck, his face so open, the pinched look gone.
Sky smiled up at him. He finally snapped out of it and took the hand she offered.
“Looks like your brother has made a new friend,” Aubree whispered with a smile.
“Looks like it. What are you doing here?”
“Getting dolled up for a date with Booker. How about you?”
“A nail appointment is all.”
“Did you break one while you were arguing with Braxton at the country club, or after trying to stop your brother Jake from pounding him?”
“Oh, my, that’s already all over town?”
“You know Suttontowne,
nothing is secret here.” Her eyes clouded and she said, “Well, almost nothing.”
I nodded.
“You could have given me a heads-up about him taking over the catering.”
“I didn’t know about it. Boone was landscaping this morning and overheard that your caterer flaked. Boone wasn’t even sure if Brax would agree. He almost threw Jeff out on his ear.”
“That’s Brax.”
“How was the meal?”
“It was amazing. And he managed it in five hours. Of course, Brax and I got into a terrible argument.”
“You still haven’t asked him to help you with your speech? There isn’t a whole lot of time left.”
“I know. Brax isn’t easy to talk to, and he does a great job of avoiding me.”
“I wish I had some insight into Booker’s brother, River Pearl. But, seriously, he’s so hard to read compared to his brothers. He’s more distant. Almost as if he can’t relax around us. I love him, though. As much as I love Boone. They are so amazingly tight knit, but I guess it makes sense. They had to be. And their antics….” She shook her head.
“I know they had to be tough. I just wish…”
“He’d give you a chance?”
“Yes, but every time I get close to him, he pushes one of my buttons and I say terrible things to him.”
“He might be deliberately goading you, River Pearl. Why don’t you stop taking the bait? Turn the tables on him?”
“Oooh, Aubree. You have a good point there. I think I will. I still have to ask him to help me with my speech. In fact, are you going home now?”
“Yes, want me to wait for you?”
“No, I’ll reschedule my appointment. I guarantee Jake won’t drive me over to Brax’s. He’d rather slit open a vein, but it might be a good time for me to catch Brax.”
“Sure.”
When we exited the Blue Coyote, I glanced across the street and found Earl staring back at me from one of the café tables outside of a quaint eatery. I nudged Aubree as we got into the car. She followed my line of vision and shivered.
Chapter Three
Braxton
I leaned against the wall in the spare room I’d turned into a boxing area. Boone stood in the doorway. He’d helped me clean up after the country club gig and haul some stuff back to Outlaws. He knew something was up, but I’d be damned if I’d talk to him about it. It wouldn’t do any good.
“You okay?”
I was brooding. I knew it and he knew it.
“Right as rain.”
He eyed me again and took a step into the room. “I don’t know what’s eating at you, Brax, but I can guess. My tripdar is off the Richter scale.”
“I don’t need your sensitive-Boone bullshit right now. Take off. I have a date with the bag, and it’s all I need.”
“Braxton.”
“Boone. Leave me alone. It’s better this way. Talking ain’t gonna do shit.”
He took another step into the room and I closed my eyes and thumped my head back. I wanted him to leave before I got pissed and picked a fight. I didn’t want to take this mood out on him.
“One of these days, Brax, you’re going to have to deal with stuff. You know it, right?”
“Yeah, that will happen.”
He sighed and turned away. “Call me if you want.”
I nodded, but we both knew I wouldn’t.
After he left, I surveyed the room. I had several bags hanging from the reinforced ceiling, along with mats on the floor and medicine balls in a rack.
Boone was the weight lifter and Booker was the runner. I liked working out my frustrations by hammering on the bag and sometimes hammering on my brothers. Sometimes the anger churned in my gut so bad I wanted to run naked through the bayou, screaming at the top of my lungs, and finding me a gator to wrestle.
Hell, who was I kidding, I was a mean sumbitch. Which can happen when you can’t have something you want because of some soul-deep shit you don’t want to deal with. Complications and roadblocks.
River Pearl was a damn huge complication.
And I was an Outlaw. Major, huge roadblock.
Punching the bag helped me sleep at night and keep my cool during the days.
My shoulders were tense and I shook them out. Damn Jake Sutton. He was as easy to play as River Pearl. Jake wasn’t a d-bag. He had his own shit to deal with and we had some history. I got that, but I enjoyed shoving it in his face that his sister had a thing for me.
They each had buttons and I knew how to push them. I made it my mission to push people’s buttons before they could get around to pushing mine. I was often on a short leash.
With River Pearl it was self-preservation. Pure and simple.
With Jake, it was something else.
I squatted down and picked up my red flexible hand wrap and slipped the loop around my thumb, then wrapped it three times around my wrist. Then three times around my hand, then coming up around the base of my thumb.
I had done this so many times. Sometimes, when I was desperate to shuck the rage and couldn’t manage it any other way, I focused on wrapping my hands, like some weird meditation. I next did an x and then coiled the tape between my pinky and ring fingers, another x, then between my ring and middle finger. I wrapped the tape finally between my middle and pointer. Rolling the tape around my knuckles, I used up the rest of the wrap with more x’s around my hand and wrist, securing it with the Velcro fastener.
I couldn’t help but snort, thinking about the look on Sutton’s face. I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on River Pearl’s face when mine was in hers and her delectable body was against mine. All those curves I’d looked at until I thought I’d go blind. Now the taste was taken, I couldn’t stop craving.
I grabbed a second roll and bound my other hand. Shaking out my shoulders, I warmed up with some light punches to the bag. In some ways I wanted the pain of bare knuckles against something unresisting, but I needed my hands to cook, and to make music. They both were air to me, so I protected them with the wrap. I should have gloves on, but I needed the sting.
Even when my anger dissipated a little, it built right back up when my mind strayed back to River Pearl.
As my muscles heated, sweat slid down my bare chest into the waistband of my black shorts.
Fuck, she had amazing eyes, more gray than blue. Punch to the chest, gray, clear and cool.
My gut churned and wham. I hit the bag with a snapping blow, making my knuckles sting a bit. It fed the need.
Always dressed to kill, even when she was hardly wearing anything.
I danced on the balls of my feet and—bam—hit a bit harder, giving it a combo, because I needed the relief.
Class. She was a freaking class act.
The impact buzzed up my arm, but, keeping it loose, I hardly felt it.
The anger diffused, and in its place a familiar hollow pain cut deep. The one I needed to fill, always yawning wide and bottomless as soon as I let the anger go. I hated it more than I hated the anger.
Becky Howe. I’d need her tonight. It was casual and she knew the score. We did our best “talking” in bed. Fucking her would take the edge off.
Not wanting to examine why today was any different, I hit the bag again. Trying to push away all I had greedily soaked in this afternoon.
I had never touched River Pearl before. Maybe an inadvertent brush walking down the row of desks or in the crowded halls, but I’d never deliberately put my hands on her.
Ever.
I’d have been fucked in so many ways if I had, and I’d always known it.
The kiss she planted on me recently ignited the smoldering fire which had been lit the first time I laid eyes on that sassy little rich girl.
So far out of my league. So far out of my social orbit. So fucking far away she might as well be a star in the heavens.
Whack.
More combos, hammering at the bag with a double jab, a small upper-body dodge for the waist, right cross, and then, with a quick r
edistribution of my weight, a left hook. I kept at it, making up the combos as I went, until my chest was heaving and I was drenched.
I stepped back, dancing a bit to loosen up. It wasn’t good form to tighten up. Everything in boxing was about staying relaxed.
After a brief rest, I went back at it. Desperate to get her out of my system.
#
River Pearl
When we pulled up to Braxton’s place, Aubree said, “Do you want me to come in with you?”
“No, the day I can’t handle Braxton Outlaw is the day I need to admit my steel magnolias aren’t as big or brass as I think they are.”
She chuckled. “You are a pistol, River, and a match for any of the Outlaws, but especially disagreeable ol’ Braxton. I have to admit I’m playing a part in this because I want to see him…happy if that is even possible.”
I managed a smile, although I wasn’t exactly feeling like a pistol. Braxton was pretty much the only person on this planet who rattled me.
“Remember, don’t let him push those buttons.”
“Okay. I’m ready for battle.”
As I stepped out of the car, I saw Boone coming out the door.
Aubree waved at him and drove off.
Boone waved back and gave me a pensive look. “Uh, now’s not a good time.”
“I’m going in. I have to ask him something.”
“River…”
“Don’t worry. Oh, and thank you for saving my ass today.”
“It wasn’t me. It was Brax, I had to do some fancy footwork to get him to agree. Verity would have been disappointed in me if I hadn’t tried.”
“Yeah, I heard you and Booker double-teamed him. I’m grateful.”
He nodded. “Be careful. He can be such a jerk when he’s stressed.”
“I know.”
Boone jumped off the porch and got into his truck. He sat there for a moment staring at me, but when I waved him away, he shrugged and drove off.
I studied Braxton’s house. Booker and Boone both had built brand-new homes. But not Brax. Leave it to Braxton to be contrary. His house could only be described as shabby chic. I was sure he would snort at the description. With its weather-beaten clapboard, it had a lot of charm, with its rocking chairs and small tables for drinks on the porch, even a swing on one end. The greenery and small landscape touches I was sure were Boone’s.