“May she snag her own feature in every major wedding mag in the state,” Brandy added, doing her best to ignore the awareness zipping up and down her spine as she touched her glass to Tyler’s.
“And to stupid cowboys who don’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of them,” Ellie added, holding up her own glass. “Present company excluded,” she went on when Tyler arched an eyebrow. “So, um, where’s your buddy tonight?” she prodded in a nonchalant tone, as if the anxious light in her eyes didn’t glow as brightly as the neon green Dos Equis sign hanging over the bar.
“He was getting in a little practice at the arena when I left a little while ago.” Tyler chugged another swallow of beer. “He’s got one of the local guys filling in for his partner while he polishes up his own technique.”
“That’s nice.” Ellie took a swig of her drink and seemed to think. “Actually, that’s not so nice. I called him to see if he wanted to hang out, but he didn’t call me back. I guess he’s not interested.”
“That or he was too busy tying up a calf. When we’re practicing, we usually leave our phones on the sidelines.”
“Don’t care,” Ellie said, but it was obvious the piece of info had made her think.
“You should try him again,” Tyler said.
“Why? So we can hook up and then he can dump me because he doesn’t know a good thing when it bites him in the ass?”
“Or don’t,” he added, taking another long pull on his beer. He sat his own phone on the bar and stared at the screen.
“I won’t,” Ellie assured them, finishing off her drink. “I think I’m going home,” she announced when she slid the glass back across the bartop. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”
“Me, too—” Brandy started, but Ellie waved her off.
“Don’t let me put a damper on the celebration. Keep going. I’ll just call a cab.”
Or a cowboy, Brandy thought as she watched her friend disappear outside, her phone in hand.
“You sure she’ll be all right?”
“Once your buddy gets here to pick her up, I’m sure she’ll be just fine. For a little while. Until he packs up and leaves.”
“Maybe he’ll ask her to go with him.”
“And maybe she’ll tell him to go to hell. She has a life here. Besides, if he likes her that much, why doesn’t he just stay?”
“There’s nothing for him here.”
“She’s here,” Brandy pointed out, a statement that stirred a long moment of silence while he sipped his beer and she finished off her glass.
“Maybe it’s not that simple. He’s got a life somewhere else. A good life. A successful one. He can’t just give it up.”
“And she can’t just give up hers.”
She knew they were talking about Duff and Ellie, but the wealth of meaning behind the words hit her and her stomach hollowed out.
“It’s hopeless, right?”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he shook his head, giving her the answer she’d dreaded.
It was hopeless, not that she’d ever thought otherwise. She’d known it was doomed from the beginning.
At the same time, when she was with him, so close she could feel the heat from his body, the strength of his determination, she found herself forgetting that all-important fact. She found herself thinking that maybe, just maybe they could work something out. She found herself hoping.
And hope was a bad thing when it came to a man. At least as far as Brandy was concerned.
“I really should get going myself,” she blurted, eager to kill the crazy emotion pushing and pulling at her.
Because that’s all it was. Crazy. Ludicrous. Ridiculous.
Brandy Tucker and Tyler McCall? Maybe in an alternate universe. But this was the real world.
Worse, it was Rebel, Texas.
“I’ll give you a ride,” he offered.
“That’s okay. I’ll just call a cab…” The words faded as she turned and caught sight of the man who walked into the bar.
“I can’t let you do that—”
“It’s Gator,” she blurted, her gaze swiveling from the doorway to Tyler. “He’s here.”
* * *
Tyler turned in time to see Gator Hallsey stroll into the bar, but it wasn’t the sight of the bootlegger that stole the air from his lungs. It was the man hot on his heels.
“Holy hell,” he muttered, staring at Cooper McCall. The young man followed Gator inside, over to the small pool table in the corner.
Tyler’s baby brother had changed in the two short years since he’d been a pimple-faced kid. The acne had cleared up and his short hair had grown even longer, to brush the tops of his shoulders. He was the spitting image of the picture that sat on his mother’s nightstand of their dad when he was younger.
A carbon copy of the worthless piece of shit who’d ruined all their lives.
And Cooper was walking the same path, making the same mistakes, getting caught in all the same worthless shit.
“Wait,” Brandy called, her soft hand pulling at Tyler’s arm, but he’d been waiting for this moment much too long to put on the brakes now.
“Catch a cab,” he growled. He motioned to the bartender. “Get her out of here, understand?”
The man nodded and Tyler shook away the one touch that had helped him through the past few days. And then he made a beeline for his brother.
CHAPTER 30
“Where the hell have you been?” Tyler demanded when he reached the pool table.
Cooper glanced up. A flicker of fear gleamed in his gaze and he stiffened. “Tyler,” he murmured. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. That’s all I’ve been doing for the past week, which you damn well know.” In the corner of his eye, he saw the bartender usher Brandy outside and relief welled through him for a split second before the seriousness of the situation brought his anxiety level back up to overdrive. “My turn,” he growled. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Playing pool,” offered Gator Hallsey, who came up behind Cooper and put a hand on his shoulder. “Is there a problem here?”
“Damn straight, there’s a problem,” Tyler said. “My brother is here when he should be at home getting ready to leave for College Station.”
“About that,” Cooper started. He shook his head. “The thing is,” his gaze met Tyler’s, “I’m not going.”
“You damn well are,” Tyler said. “You’re going to college and then you’re going to get a job and you’re going to make something of yourself.”
“I already have a job.”
“Running shine isn’t a job. It’s a felony. Don’t be an asshole, Coop. You can’t throw everything away to hang around here. Christ, the whole point of everything is to get out of this shithole. That’s what you always wanted.”
“That’s what you always wanted. I’m doing just fine here.” The eighteen-year-old pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and set it on the edge of the table. “Leave if you want to, but I’m staying.”
“You heard the man,” Gator said.
“He’s not a man. He’s a kid,” Tyler started, reaching for Cooper’s arm, but Gator was faster. He stepped up, the barrel of a very lethal-looking Glock pointed at Tyler’s chest.
“He wants you to leave him alone.”
“He’s barely legal,” Tyler said. “He doesn’t know what he wants.”
“And you do?” Cooper turned on him. “You don’t know me. You haven’t known me for a long time because you’re not here. You’re never here. It’s just me and Mom all the time.”
“Coop, I can’t—”
“I know, I know. You can’t be in two places at one time. You have to ride, but I don’t. I don’t have to be someplace else. Anyplace else. I can be here. I’m okay with being here. Mom likes me here.”
“She doesn’t even know you’re here half the time. And the other half, she doesn’t care. Don’t you get that?”
“Damn straight, I get it. I alw
ays did. She doesn’t care, but so what? I don’t need a nursemaid. I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody. I’m doing just fine by myself.”
“Really?” He stared at Cooper so hard that his brother actually looked away. But not before Tyler saw the rush of insecurity. The fear.
Because his brother wasn’t half as afraid to stay in Rebel as he was to go. To fail.
“I’m not you,” Coop said. “I’m not some big-time rodeo rider. I’m good at math. That’s it. And driving. And I like driving a hell of a lot more than I like doing math.”
“What’s he talking about?” Gator asked.
“He was offered a scholarship to Texas A and M.” Tyler expected the man to scoff, to start talking about loser geeks and how Cooper was so much better off working for him.
“You’re fucking with me, right?” Gator said, his expression unreadable.
“A full ride,” Tyler added. “He’s a smart kid. Too smart to be involved with you.”
The gun pushed into his chest a fraction more, the finger on the trigger tapping ever so lightly, and every muscle in Tyler’s body went on full alert. Brandy’s breath caught behind him and he damned himself for rushing over and not getting her out to safety first. But he’d been looking for Cooper for so long …
“Get out of here,” Gator said, shoving the tip of the gun deeper into Tyler’s chest for a long moment before pulling away, tucking the firearm into his waistband, and turning back to the pool table. “And take the kid with you.”
“What?” Cooper turned.
“You heard me. Get the hell out of here. Both of you.”
“But I thought you liked my driving.”
“It isn’t about that,” Gator said, his gaze shifting to Cooper. “You’re too smart to be so stupid, kid. A&M? Seriously?” He shook his head. “Go on and get out of here. Now.”
“Let’s go,” Tyler told his brother. Cooper didn’t look as if he wanted to comply, but then a glimmer of relief flickered in his gaze and Tyler knew that Cooper wasn’t half as sure about giving up his future and sticking around to work for Gator Hallsey as he pretended to be.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” he told Tyler before snatching up the keys and the money on the table and heading for the door. “You’re not my boss.”
“You better nip that shit in the bud,” Gator told Tyler once Cooper had disappeared out the doorway. “You make sure he goes to College Station, even if you have to hog-tie him and haul him up there yourself.” The clackkk of pool balls punctuated the sentence.
“Why did you do that?” Tyler asked when the man pulled back to survey the table.
“Do what?” Gator chalked the end of his pool cue.
“Let him go like that.”
The bootlegger grinned, revealing a row of straight white teeth and a smile that had probably charmed many a female into the backseat of his souped-up car. “Maybe I’m just a nice guy.”
“Try again.”
His grin faded. “Maybe I know what it’s like to want something for somebody more than he wants it for himself.” He turned then, his gaze catching Tyler’s. “I had a brother once. I didn’t keep near as close an eye on him as I should have. I won’t get a chance to correct that mistake because he’s gone. Cooper’s alive and well and not a half-bad kid, and you’re still in the game. Don’t lose. And make sure he keeps his mouth shut about our recent business dealings. Or else.”
“Thanks.”
Gator didn’t say anything. He just nodded, turned, and leaned over the table. The pool cue cracked again and a striped blue ball sailed into the nearest pocket.
Tyler turned, grabbed Brandy’s arm, and headed for the parking lot. Cooper had already left, but Tyler had a good idea where to find him.
“You should have left when I first told you to,” he said a few minutes later as he fed her into a cab.
“And let you get shot? No thanks. I dodged one felony today. I’m not about to witness another.”
“And here I thought you were worried about me,” he murmured before brushing a kiss across her lips. One that lingered a little too long considering he was pissed at her and she didn’t give a shit about him.
“Go easy on him,” she breathed against his lips before she pulled back and signaled the driver.
The cab grumbled out of the parking lot and Tyler ignored the strange emptiness that filled him. Instead, he headed for his truck.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled through the entrance of the Happy Times Trailer Park. Just as he’d hoped, Cooper’s old truck sat in the driveway, the engine still running, as if the kid wasn’t half as content right here in Rebel as he wanted Tyler to think.
He killed the engine, climbed out of his truck, and walked around to the passenger side of Cooper’s ride. Opening the door, he climbed in and sat there for a few long moments next to his brother as he contemplated what to say.
“I made some good money.” His brother broke the silence first.
“I know you did. But it’s not nearly good enough to warrant the risk. I know you think Gator and his buddies have it all figured out, but they do what they do because they have no choice. They don’t have anything better waiting for them.”
“What makes you think I do?”
“You have a scholarship, for Christ’s sake.”
“All contingent on how well I do each and every semester. Do you know if I blow it even one semester I could lose everything? If I can’t keep up my grades, that’s it.”
“And?”
“And I’ll be right back here.”
“No, you won’t. If you blow it, I’ll pay for it.”
Coop shook his head. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Then you get a student loan. A grant. We’ll figure out something. If that situation even comes up. Right now, the possibilities are endless. It’s all a matter of moving forward, of trying.”
“What about Mom?”
“What about her? She’ll be fine. She’s got enough money, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t go without. Beyond that, she doesn’t matter, Cooper. She doesn’t give a shit about us. She never did. And while I know you keep hoping for some moment of realization, some happily-ever-after where she realizes what a bitch she’s been and decides to change her ways, sometimes things just don’t work out that way in real life. Sometimes the best you can hope for is to change yourself, not anybody else. That’s all we can do.”
Cooper didn’t say anything. He just killed the engine, climbed out of the truck, and walked toward the trailer.
“You’re going,” Tyler called after him. “And call Erin. She’s been worried sick about you.”
His brother still didn’t turn. Instead, he paused at the door, drew a deep breath, and then went inside. No doubt with his hopes high that maybe this time things would be different. That their mother would be different.
Fat chance.
Tyler damned the woman a thousand times and climbed out of the old truck. Walking back to his own Chevy, he climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.
CHAPTER 31
Tyler meant to head back to the rodeo arena.
His brother was safe and sound for now.
But the real test would come when he boarded the bus for Texas A&M in a week.
Would Cooper follow through?
The question haunted him and made him even more restless because he knew that if his brother lost his nerve and went back to Gator and his crew again, there wouldn’t be a second out.
There would be nothing Tyler could do about it.
Just as he hadn’t been able to keep his dad from walking out, he wasn’t going to be able to keep Cooper from making the biggest mistake of his life.
The truth ate at Tyler as he hauled ass down the gravel road that led to town. But instead of turning down the main Farm Road, he found himself heading for the second turn that led away from Rebel, straight to Brandy.
She might not have gone home. Maybe she’d stopped off at the bakery. Or another
bar. She could have gone someplace else to keep the party going.
She’d done it. She’d signed a deal with Foggy Bottom Distillers and now her future was set.
And his?
His shoulder ached from the last fall he’d taken on Junkyard Dog. One that Brett, himself, had witnessed and then chewed Tyler a new one about what he’d done wrong.
Too many things to count, but Brett could help.
He would help.
That was the other piece of good news.
But Tyler didn’t feel so good.
He felt desperate. Uncertain. Anxious.
Was she out celebrating with another man?
While most folks might think so, Tyler knew better. He knew her. She wouldn’t do that. While she might be interested in merely a good time, she wanted it with him.
He knew that much.
He felt it, and so he took the dirt road that led to the Tucker spread and the old Oldsmobile parked in the gravel driveway. Parking his truck, he climbed out and headed for the front steps. A quick knock and he waited.
She hauled open the door on the third knock. Wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt, she looked soft and rumpled from sleep and he felt a moment’s regret that he’d obviously pulled her out of bed.
Until her gaze met his and he read the raw need blazing deep in the depths of her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Concern edged out the hunger, and a strange warmth spread through him.
“I talked to Cooper,” he murmured. He didn’t mean to tell her. He meant to push her backward and plaster his mouth against hers, no words required. But there was just something about the way she looked at him. As if she cared what he had to say.
What he felt.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I told him what an idiot he’s being, but he won’t listen. He’s got a quick way to some easy money and suddenly studying for the next four years doesn’t have the same appeal. He doesn’t realize that what he’s doing is going to get him put away for a lot longer than four years.”
“He’s still got a few days. He’s smart. He’ll wise up.”
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