by Shaye Marlow
“How much something like that run you?” asked Zack.
Ed shrugged. “I don’t really know. The espresso machine was acting up. I fixed it. They comped me the drink.”
We all stared at him, incredulous. Even though we shouldn’t have been, not really. It’s why Zack and Rory had called Ed in today, after all.
“So, what do you think?” Zack asked.
Ed reached the bottom of his froufrou beverage, all the while continuing his silent contemplation. “I think it was a nice Jeep,” he said.
“And? What’s your recommendation?” Rory asked, a note of impatience creeping into his voice.
“Ship it to town. Send it to a body shop.”
“But… we thought you could maybe—”
“What? Fix it?” Ed finally looked at them, and when Ed did that, he really looked. “Do I have ‘Miracle Worker’ stamped across my forehead?”
“Uh. No…” Zack said, shifting.
“Body work is an art. It requires equipment, facilities, replacement parts. You want it to look nice, send it to town.”
“We don’t care what it looks like,” Rory said. “We just want it mosquito- and rain-proof.”
Ed’s brows climbed. He looked back at the crunched roof. “Really.”
“Do you think you can do anything with it?”
“Well… I can straighten out the frame—mostly—and probably help you get a new windshield on her. But that roof is done.”
“Can you patch it?”
“I could replace it with a piece of sheet metal, weld it in place,” Ed said. His attitude suggested he knew they wouldn’t go for that idea.
“Sounds good,” Rory said. “What supplies do you need?”
“If I do that, it’ll look horrible.”
“That’s fine. We were actually trying to figure a place to mount a moose rack, so that’ll be perfect.”
Ed didn’t bat an eye. “In that case,” he said, stroking his beard, “have you any interest in a custom bumper? I could make you something that extends up into a brush guard.”
“Hell yes! Well… as long as we can work around the rocket launcher,” Zack said.
That did it. Ed stopped, and turned that intense, quelling stare on them. Then he moved around to the front of the vehicle, and located the port hidden in the grille. He started to laugh.
“Is that a yes?”
“I think… we can do you one better,” Ed said. “That’s stationary, right? How would you like rocket launchers that tilt and swivel?”
A little while later, I was lying under the Jeep, drowning my sorrows in motor oil, when I heard the shop door open. This wouldn’t have been too outstanding, except that the pair of legs that stepped in were the longest, sexiest, most amazing set I’d ever seen, and they definitely didn’t belong to my brothers—or any man, for that matter.
They were smooth and lightly tanned, extending from a pair of shorts allll the way down to a slender set of ankles and dainty, sandaled feet. I watched them walk around the vehicle, appreciating the pull and flex of muscle under gently rounded flesh.
She stopped next to my knees. “I thought the damage was to the top,” she said.
I slid out from under the vehicle.
Thea was standing there, hair up in a casual knot, cotton T-shirt draped beguilingly over her breasts, coffee cup in hand.
I lay there staring up at her for a few moments, not sure what this meant. She was here. She was talking to me. She looked beautiful. And, a bit nervous.
I sat up slowly, not wanting to scare her off. “It is,” I said. “I was just checking to make sure we didn’t knock anything loose on the undercarriage.” The real reason: I was hiding from my meddlesome brothers.
Her eyes were a bit wounded, so I focused on the paper cup she held. “For you,” she said, holding it out.
I accepted, feeling a pang of longing as our fingers brushed. And still I sat, gazing up at her, thinking she looked incredible.
She shifted. “It’s a peppermint hot chocolate, my favorite. I even put the little sprinkles on top. And whipped cream. I hope that’s all right. I know you must eat pretty healthy, but… And, usually it’s a seasonal drink, and I know it’s not Christmas…” She was fidgeting.
It was a peace offering, I realized. Had to be.
I took a sip, accepting. And held my peace, because I wanted to hear what she had to say.
She glanced toward my brothers, who were gazing over at us. Even Ed, welding helmet perched on his head, was watching. She turned more fully toward me, blocking them out. “Can we talk?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.” I got to my feet.
Problem was, I was too slow.
Rory swooped in with a jovial “Thea!” and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She was really small next to him; he practically lifted her off her feet when he gave her a squeeze.
“What’d you bring?” he asked. He tried to snag the drink from me, but my brother-honed reflexes were too fast.
He didn’t miss a beat. “You gotta come check this out,” he said to the top of Thea’s head. “We did an upgrade.” He was already turning her, steering her toward the front of the Jeep.
I thought about throwing my wrench at the back of his head. Instead, I followed them to the corner of the new, heavy-duty bumper.
“See?” Rory said proudly.
“It looks like something from a horror movie,” Thea said. “Or maybe Duck Dynasty?”
“Oh my god, that’s an excellent idea. Zack, a duck call for a horn!” he said, grinning over at our brother.
I was pretty sure Zack was flicking a booger, but the motion was also very dismissive.
Ignoring that, Rory beamed with pride. “Isn’t it great?” he asked Thea. “And, stay there. Watch. This is the best part.” He leaned into the open window, and grabbed the remote.
I moved up to her side, watching as the little rocket launcher tubes hummed into motion. They angled upward, and then right and left.
“Wow, that’s… something,” Thea said, her hand over her mouth. Under that contemplative hand, she was grinning widely, her eyes sparkling as she glanced over at me.
“I know!” Rory said. “The only thing I’d change is the size of the tubes, but I’d already made up like sixty rockets in that size, and I don’t want to have to redo everything. I mean, they’re a little less than intimidating, amiright?” he asked, wiggling the launchers again.
“Sixty?” Thea asked, aghast.
She wasn’t the only one. I hadn’t realized he had that many explosives. And where the heck was he keeping them, anyway? I’d searched the whole place when I’d suspected my brothers were involved with the Bigfoot sightings, and I hadn’t noticed any large caches of explosives. Which… was odd, now that I thought about it.
“Yeah, well, I woulda made more if it weren’t for our J.D., here,” he said, wrapping that bear-like arm around me this time. I glared at him, willing him to release me.
Rory grinned instead. “With all this work we’ve been doing on him, there hasn’t been time for much else.”
“Work?” Thea asked.
“Yeah. Speaking of which,” he said, looking at Thea, “do you dance?”
“What?”
“Dance. You know, move your body to music.”
“Um. I have,” she offered.
Rory released me, but my relief was short-lived, because he latched onto her instead. He snagged her hand and tugged her after him. “Come with me.”
She glanced back at me, looking hopelessly confused.
I followed them out the door, as Rory probably knew I would. The sun was setting, the light a rich golden color. It glittered across the water, and made the long shadows that much more dramatic. Small bugs floated lazily on the air, drunk from the day.
Rory released Thea on the lawn, and turned to me. “For you, today, we have the Holy Grail of getting laid,” he announced.
I winced. “Rory, Thea’s right here.”
“I kno
w! We’re gonna use her.”
“No, I meant I don’t need—”
“Shh. Here, you stand right here, and Thea,” Rory turned her, and pushed her closer to me. “Just like that, with your hands like so,” he said, relieving me of my drink to position them.
I looked into Thea’s eyes, and felt a thrill of rightness that started in my chest, and worked its way outward. Her hand was small and warm in mine, the curve of her waist perfect in my other.
“Can you feel her?” Rory asked.
I was feeling her a little too well. I cleared my throat. “Just what is this ‘Holy Grail’?” I asked.
“Ballroom dancing.”
I stared at him. “Are you serious? You figure ballroom dancing is manly?”
“Perhaps not. But it’s suave, and it’ll get you chicks, which will build your confidence.”
“Rory, Thea is right here.”
“Yes, she is. And I get the feeling she’s gonna be an amazing dance partner.” Rory shot Thea a smile. “Thea, on a scale from zero to ten, how sexually interested are you in J.D. at this exact moment?”
“Rory!”
“Shh. Just bear with me, it’s in the name of science. Zero is absolutely no interest, some homeless drunk on the street, and ten is legs spread, digging your heels into his ass, imminent penetration. So?” He looked at her expectantly.
She looked ruefully up at me, and—bless her—she rolled with it. “A… four?”
“Good.” He looked at me. “Now, can you feel her?”
“Uh. Yeah?”
“No. Through your hand. That’s how you’ll communicate. There’s tension there. Feel her.”
“Rory—”
“Shh-sh-sh. J.D., shut up and just relax. Thea’s enjoying this. Look at her. She wants to dance with you. Don’t you, Thea?”
“I’d love to,” she said, smiling up at me.
“No, dammit, keep your elbow in front of your body. And your hand should be on her shoulder blade. And suck it in for godsakes,” he said, slapping my abdomen. “Just what kind of MMA champion are you? Now, do you feel her?”
It was a very good thing my hands were currently occupied. “I can feel her,” I grated out.
“Good. Now we’re gonna learn the box step, which both the rhumba and waltz are based on. It’s like this.”
We both watched his feet as he stepped forward and over, then back and over.
“What you need to do is remember to shift your weight, remember to step with the other foot each time. Got it? You try.”
I immediately stepped on Thea’s foot.
“No, dammit. J.D., you are left foot forward, Thea’s right foot back. Try it again.”
We stuttered through a couple crappy renditions. Five minutes later, we were managing to do it pretty smoothly, and I had even led her in a couple turns.
“Excellent. So, Thea, how is this making you feel?”
“Uhhh.” She looked up at me, and her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and her fingers were curved around mine in a tight and sweaty hold, and I knew exactly how she was feeling.
“Sploosh, right?” Rory chuckled while I glared and Thea looked puzzled. “Archer reference,” he explained, waving it off. “What I mean is, you’re digging this, right? Do you feel more likely to let J.D. bone you than you did five minutes ago?”
“Uhm.” She bit her lip, hesitating.
“Rory, just shut the fuck up.”
“Scale from zero to ten,” he said, waiting.
“Seven,” she said, blushing even harder.
Rory clapped me on the back. “You see? Up three points in five minutes. It’s like magic, I tell you.”
“Fine. Point made.” I turned, and caught Zack filming us. “Hey—”
“He’s just recording your progress,” Rory said, pushing me back toward Thea. Again, I could have resisted. I could have bent back his finger, or twisted his arm, or punched him in the throat—any number of things to make him back off—but Thea was there. So instead, I let him push me. “You two practice,” he said. When we were back in each other’s arms, he hollered across us, “Zack, music!”
Zack grumbled, and something with a sultry beat started to pour from his phone just a moment before Rory got to him.
“Dance!” Rory yelled. He and Zack lounged back against the picnic table, watching.
Thea was in my arms, and there was absolutely no reason not to, so I led her into the now-familiar step. “So,” I said, looking down at her. “A seven, huh?” I found myself thinking about the things I could do to get her to a ten. Pull her closer, let my hand wander downward? Bend my head to nuzzle her neck, and take that sparkling earring in my mouth. Trace the smooth line of her jaw with kisses, until she arched with pleasure, until her mouth sought mine.
I would kill to kiss her, to touch her all over, to do the things that would take her to that hot, sweaty, writhing, panting edge… and over it. I wanted to get her to an 11, a 12, blow her mind so completely she’d never look at another man. Or touch one.
“To the beat!” Rory yelled, swatting at a mosquito. “Dammit, J.D., you can’t just make up your own. Move with the music!”
I put another mark in my mental tally of pummelings I owed my brother, and worked hard to split my attention between the beautiful woman in my arms, and the hypnotic, earthy beat. After a few moments, it became easier. We relaxed, and slowed.
I gazed into her eyes, gently giving her signals with my hand, leading her forward and back. Push and pull, loose strands of hair floating around her face, my heartbeat mingling with the thump of the drums. Our toes nudging, clothes whispering. Pants becoming just a bit too tight…
“I’m sorry about today,” Thea said.
My brows shot up. She was sorry?
“I just—I lost it, and I yelled, and I’m sorry. Sorry I kicked you out,” she added.
“Apology unnecessary, but accepted. I’m sorry I hit Wreck.”
She ducked her head in a sort of nod. “I don’t like violence,” she said, her luminescent brown eyes coming back up to mine.
“I’m getting that,” I said, keeping my voice light. I guided her in a slow circle, loving the way her hips swayed, how those long legs moved with quick, graceful steps. “What I don’t understand is why.”
She took a deep, shaky breath. “I had a brother,” she said.
Oh, shit. My hand tightened on hers.
Her smile trembled. Her gaze was far away. “His name was Travis.”
I waited, knowing where this had to be going, my heart breaking for her.
“He was an awesome older brother, very outdoorsy, always showing me new trails, taking me kayaking. We played video games,” she said, glancing up at me. “He was going to the local college, was doing well, had everything going for him. And then… he made a new friend. The new friend liked to party, and liked to pop pills, and had friends who were even deeper into the drug scene. They got Travis hooked on heroine.”
I stroked my hand down her back, trying to comfort her.
“My brother started failing at school, and all his money, he spent on drugs. Every time I saw him, he looked worse. Skinnier, bruised. He even tried to steal from me, there toward the end.” She took a deep, shaky breath.
“One day, I took him out for ice cream. I planned on talking to him about the drugs, getting him to quit, getting my brother back.”
Thea shook her head, and took a moment to gather her voice. “We didn’t make it to the ice cream shop. I guess he owed some people money, and it was just bad luck that they drove by and caught us on the street. They didn’t do anything to me, but my brother… They beat him up. They beat him badly, right in front of me.”
Oh, god, no wonder she couldn’t handle it when I hurt my brothers. “Thea, I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling her close. I would have given anything to have been there, to have stopped it from happening.
“He wound up in the hospital, died from internal bleeding,” she said, her voice wobbling.
> Aw, hell. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen. He’s the one who… who gave me the birds,” she said, finishing at a whisper. “The mobile.”
I rubbed her back, laid my cheek on her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
She took a few moments to gather herself, and finally pushed back slightly. “And so, I really, really dislike violence. I hate it when you hurt your brothers. It’s the opposite of what I am, and what I believe in.”
I nodded and sighed, just holding her, finally understanding. She relaxed into my arms, and we swayed with the music. A song passed. Two.
Meanwhile, over in ZackandRoryville: Zack and Rory were still at the picnic table, but they’d stood up, and were messing around with a propane torch. “Get it getitgetit—yes!” Rory said, followed by mad cackling. “There’s another!” Zack pointed the nozzle toward the sky and pulled the trigger. Flame hissed as it shot out several inches, and there was a tiny flare, followed by more brotherly glee. Mosquitos, I realized. My idiot brothers were killing mosquitos, by lighting them on fire.
“There was no reason for you to hit Pierre,” Thea said.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “Reason had nothing to do with it. I came thinking of you, wanting to apologize—”
“I saw the flowers,” she murmured, ducking her head.
“—and saw you touching another man.”
“But it’s my job,” she said.
“But it was Wreck,” I insisted, letting her see the anguish on my face. “I don’t know if you realize it, but he’s after you, and I’m not sure if it’s because he actually likes you, or because I do.”
She gazed up at me. “What happened between him and you?” she asked.
“He’s a rival,” I said, glancing away. “My competition.”
“There’s more to it than that,” she insisted. “He asked if you threw a fight.”
Suddenly, Rory screamed. Thea and I turned to see him running around, slapping at his hair. Which was on fire. Next to him, Zack was laughing, clutching his belly.
I was just stepping their way to see if I could help, when Rory managed to get the fire out. He stood, shoulders heaving, head smoking.
Zack caught us looking. Tears streaming down his face, gasping for breath, he said, “Oh god, you missed it. He lit one up, and it went peeeeww, right into his hair!”