He finally seemed to grasp that he was not the one in control of this situation. His hands rose in a defensive position. “Look, I don’t know what Bailey told you, but I’m not to blame for anything here. We dated, it ended, and that’s it. If she’s still sensitive about it, that’s not my problem. We’re all adults here, so there’s no reason for you two to play big brother.”
“Now you see,” I said, “that’s where we’ll have to agree to disagree. I’ve only spent ten minutes in your presence, and you’ve been rude, patronizing, and a general asshole. I can’t imagine how much damage you managed to cause our girl in the amount of time she wasted with you.”
Mark still had a hand to his chest, keeping him still, and I stood close with my arms crossed to keep myself in check.
“You have no idea how much I tried to help that girl. She was hopeless. She’d never make it in the art world. I was doing her a favor.”
At that, Mark shoved him and Anton almost lost his footing before righting himself and pointing a finger at Mark. “You touch me again and I’m calling the police.” He hitched his bag back up on his shoulder and backed away a step.
Mark and I took another step toward him, narrowing the gap. “We must have very different ideas of what constitutes help,” I began before Mark cut in.
“Treating her like shit and cheating on her sound like pretty shitty favors to me. Not to mention sabotaging her with the board and using her for sex.”
I stepped back on my boot. “What the fuck?!”
Mark tore his gaze from Anton and looked to me. Clearly, he’d revealed more than he’d meant to. His face was tight with tension and I was guessing mine looked the same. We simultaneously turned our attention back to Anton, who now had a sheen of sweat on his brow. A panicked, chicken-shit expression overtook his face and it was clear he was about to run.
“Hey, Anton,” I growled. “Does your insurance cover vision?”
The unexpected question caused him to pause and his expression morphed to one of confusion. “What? Why?”
“No reason,” Mark replied just before his fist connected with the side of Anton’s face, sending his glasses flying and knocking the douchebag to the ground.
He lay on the sidewalk holding his cheek and cowering in fear as I crouched down beside him. He flinched when I spoke in a low tone. “You ever talk to her, touch her, or even think about her again, and we’re gonna have a problem. Understand?” He just nodded slowly and I stood back up.
Mark was already walking away, and a few students had started to gather around, one of them bending down to help Anton and a couple others raising their voices to us as we walked toward the truck. We didn’t acknowledge anyone and we didn’t look back. We did, however, make sure the black-framed glasses that had fallen in our path made solid contact with the bottoms of our work boots.
“Do I even want to know what happened here?”
I chuckled as our mom crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at Mark. He and I were lounging on her couch watching football while Mark iced his hand down.
He threw a glare at me before answering her. “Probably not.”
She bent down, her “mom face” firmly set, and held out her hand. “Let me see.”
Mark sighed and removed the ice pack. I cringed a little, but our mom took it in stride, lifting Mark’s large hand for inspection. His knuckles were swollen and turning a nice shade of purple. Two were split, probably from the glasses, but the blood was mostly dry.
Our mom tsked and then released his hand. “I’m getting some bandages and then you’re telling me what happened.” We both got the stink-eye. “And I want the whole story so I can decide if you’re just irresponsible or downright stupid.”
I laughed again but Mark cut me off. “Shut up, asshole. If I hadn’t gotten in there first, you would be the one getting a lecture.” He was not wrong. “Damn.” He stretched his fingers out and winced. “I didn’t realize punching a guy could do so much damage. I need to work with this thing tomorrow.”
“Speaking of work, you’d better avoid Bailey—she’s probably not going to be too impressed.”
“Yeah, good point.”
Our mother returned and knelt in front of the couch, her hair falling in her face as she inspected the damage again. Mark jerked his hand back when she touched a knuckle. “Stop being a baby. If you’re going to get in a fight, you have to deal with the consequences.”
Again, I failed to hold in my laugh, which earned me another glare from my little brother.
“I’m guessing you weren’t just an innocent bystander, Jake, so you’d better watch yourself,” our mom warned.
That shut me up.
“I have a feeling I know what this is about but I’m really hoping I’m wrong,” our mom said as she applied antibiotic ointment to Mark’s torn hand.
Mark and I looked at each other, identical frowns on our faces.
“Um, what do you think this is about?” Mark ventured.
She raised her eyes from her task and pinned us both. “Bailey.”
Shit, news traveled fast.
“How in the hell…”
Mark cut me off, “Shortcake. Dammit!” He punched the couch with his uninjured fist.
“Easy there, Rocky,” our mom replied. “I had her on the phone earlier about a work thing and you know Fiona. She said you and Bailey had a heart-to-heart this morning and she’s going through some stuff. There was mention of some guy followed by a string of cuss words, so I put two and two together.” Then she turned to me. “I was hoping things were going well between you and Bailey. What’s with this other guy?”
I explained the gallery disaster, eliciting several frowns and head shakes from her while she finished her job on Mark’s hand. She then sat back on her heels and crossed her arms.
“This sounds very strange. I can’t see Bailey associating with those types of people.”
“That’s what I was thinking too,” I responded.
Finally, Mark spoke up. “It’s more complicated than that.”
This was already clear to me, given the few comments he’d unwittingly let slip during our confrontation with Anton. I wondered what he was doing right now and if it involved a trip to the doctor. I should have felt bad, but I was having a hard time mustering up any remorse.
“So, you punched him in the face, I’m guessing?” our mom asked, turning a stern look in Mark’s direction.
“Yup,” he said, leaning back into the couch, a big old smile on his face. “Just trust me, he had it coming.”
I nodded my head in agreement.
“Well, I can’t say I condone violence as an answer to anything, but you’re grown men. I’ll have to trust that you used relatively decent judgment. I imagine it would take a lot for either one of you to actually punch another person, even if you do spend a lot of time practicing at the gym.” She gave a half-smile. “Bailey is lucky to have the two of you in her corner.”
I huffed despondently and she shot me a curious look. “Mom, I’m thinking she’s done with me. You should have seen her face on Friday night.”
An affectionate expression crossed her features and she winked at me. “I wouldn’t throw in the towel just yet, sweetie. I have a feeling this whole thing had very little to do with you and a whole lot to do with her.”
“Huh?”
She patted my hand. “Trust me. It’s a girl thing.”
Mark suddenly chuckled, apparently recalling something. “Uh, yeah. If all the tears I had to witness this morning proved anything, it’s that Bailey’s a girl after all. Color me surprised.”
I smacked the back of his head and he tried to fend me off, forgetting about his injured hand for a moment. “Ow! Shit!”
That got him another smack to the head, this time from our mom. “Stop cussing!”
“What happened to violence never being the answer?! Everybody, stop hitting me! I’m a damn hero!” he cried, laughing and shielding himself from further assault.
�
��That rule doesn’t extend to family,” I said, and my mom laughed. I gave Mark one more pop. “Especially when that family member is still keeping secrets!”
“I plead the fifth based on the best-friend code. And besides, just grow a pair and stalk her like you did before. It seemed to work the first time.”
At that, our mom just shook her head and stood up, gathering her medical supplies. “I’ll leave you to it. And don’t eat all my food.” She walked to the kitchen.
“I didn’t stalk her. I merely won her over with my charms.” Well, perhaps that was pushing it.
“Yeah, right,” Mark replied, grin still firmly in place. “So, how are things going with that new condo you’re renting right near Bailey’s?”
Shit. Totally busted.
I glared at him. “Okay, fine, there’s no condo. But I had to figure out some way to run into her. You practically sent me an engraved invitation when you told me about her morning runs!”
He furrowed his brow. “God, you’re whipped.”
“Speak for yourself, asshole!”
He punched my arm with his good hand. “I’m just giving you shit, Nancy.”
“Well, then you’re gonna to love this one. The morning I conveniently ran into Bailey, I ended up with puke on my shoes. I guess Karma didn’t like my sneaking around. Happy now?”
He guffawed just as my mom’s head popped sharply around the corner from the kitchen.
“Bailey threw up on you?” She didn’t look disgusted like one might expect. Instead, her expression was uneasy.
“Yes, if you can believe it. But you’d be proud of me—I drove her home and made sure she was okay. I remembered my lessons from childhood and was a perfect gentleman,” I joked.
She didn’t smile back but ducked back into the kitchen instead.
Mark and I looked at each other in question. Then we shrugged simultaneously and turned our attention back to the game.
Chapter Nineteen
Signs You’re DEFINITELY a Girl
BAILEY
Normally, having people hanging around my place all day would have me itching for a little privacy and some one-on-one time with my sketchbook. I had to admit, though, having Fiona and Laney park themselves on my couch for the majority of the day actually felt great. It helped soothe my injured spirit—and Fiona’s ability to take the paltry contents of my refrigerator and turn them into actual food was a bonus I hadn’t anticipated.
“I still don’t understand how I’ve never seen this movie before,” Laney said, forking another bite of frittata into her mouth and gawping at the television.
“Jesus, it’s like a man-candy muscle buffet,” Fiona added. She sipped her wine and it practically dribbled down her chin as she stared at a bare-chested Chris Hemsworth and the rest of the cast of the latest Avengers movie.
I felt a bit smug. “Now aren’t you glad I nixed the chick flick?” I took a bite of my own slice of frittata, moaning at its deliciousness. “Damn, Fiona. I need you to move in with me so I can eat like this every day,” I mumbled over my mouthful of food.
“It’s just eggs.” She grinned, eyes still glued to the men on screen, none of whom appeared able to afford shirts with sleeves.
I had to smile at that. What I got at the McDonald’s drive-thru was “just eggs.” It was no wonder her catering business with Kelly was taking off.
“Hey, I’m surprised you don’t have any catering gigs today,” I told her.
She finally tore her eyes from the TV and shrugged. “We had two yesterday, and Kelly and I still have our other jobs so it’s nice to have a day off.”
“Aww, and you decided to spend it with pathetic old me.” I flashed her a self-deprecating smile.
“Hey, none of that!” Laney chimed in. “Girl time is a valuable commodity and it’s high time you recognized that.” She elbowed me playfully.
“Yeah, well, I’m new to this so you have to cut me some slack.”
Fiona paused the TV and I immediately regretted my interruption of the man parade. They were going to make me do more talking—I could feel it.
“So, now that we have some food and a couple movies under our belts, it’s time to spill some more,” Fiona declared.
I knew it! I tried to pull the blanket over my head but it was snatched out of my grip—quite aggressively, I felt.
“No. It’s somebody else’s turn.”
Fiona put a mocking finger to her chin and turned to Laney. “Oh, I’m sorry. Laney, did you happen to run into a cocksucking ex recently and let him make you feel like shit?” Laney pretended to think about it and then slowly shook her head. “And I don’t suppose you blew off a hot Beckett brother for reasons you have yet to share?”
Laney shook her head again. “Still no. Sorry.”
They both pinned me with their stupid eyes.
“Whatever.” I know, I’m brilliant.
Their expressions did not change.
“Look, it’s complicated.”
“So? We like complicated,” Laney said while Fiona nodded her agreement.
I sighed. Then I sighed again just to make sure they knew how put out I was. “Fine.”
Fiona folded her legs under her butt and cradled her wine glass like she was settling in for story hour. I glared at her before attempting my explanation.
“So, remember the wedding?” I asked like an idiot. Of course they remembered the wedding. But they just nodded as if my question was perfectly reasonable. Wow, they were good at this girl shit. “Anyway, I was all dressed up and I was feeling a bit…off. You know, with the weird clothes and my brother getting married.” I looked to Laney then. “Not that I’m not really happy for you guys!”
She waved me off. “No, I totally get it. Weddings can do that.”
I nodded. “So, Jake shows up at the reception, and I mean, I just…wow.” I squirmed at the memory. “He was looking at me like I was lunch and, I don’t know, something in me just snapped. I had totally sworn off men since the whole Anton thing, but there was something about the way Jake looked at me—and then there was my mood, and the way I was dressed…I totally climbed him like a giant, manly Sequoia!” I covered my face in embarrassment and I heard Fiona choke on her wine. Laney erupted in laughter. Oh God, this was humiliating. Why did people share this stuff?
They both grabbed at my hands, prying them from my face. Fiona giggled. “Girl, I’d be worried if you’d never jumped a man—especially one looking as hot as a Beckett brother in a suit.”
“Oh my God. I know. That suit—and those cheekbones. It was like somebody dangled an entire testosterone-laden pot of chocolate fondue under my nose. I was powerless.”
They both giggled at that. “I don’t get what the problem is, then,” said Laney.
I wanted to cover my face again but I resisted. “I guess that night, in itself, wasn’t a problem. My plan, if I actually had one, was just to have that one night with him and that would be it.”
“But why?” asked Fiona.
This was where it got hard.
“Well, first, I acted completely out of character. I mean, I was dressed all fancy and I was totally forward with him. You did hear the part about me jumping him, right?” They nodded. “That is so not me.”
Fiona shrugged. “I guess, but it sounds totally hot and he clearly dug it.”
“Yeah, but it’s like false advertising. I mean, look at me.” I gestured down to my men’s boxers and Pig Pounder t-shirt. “And, besides, I’m not the kind of person who can have casual sex with someone like Jake Beckett and keep things from getting messy. I mean, look what happened with Anton. And he was never half as tempting and addictive as Jake! Jesus, you should have seen me—I was like some sex-crazed stripper on a Beckett-induced high.”
They were both smiling. Shit, I’d shared too much.
Retreat!
“I think I’m gonna grab a drink. I’m feeling a bit parched.” I started to get up and they both pushed me back down. What was it with people trying to fu
se me to the couch today?!
“Not so fast!”
I delivered a few more glares and then sighed in defeat. “I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not.”
“It’s just that I should have known better. I should never have accepted another date—a first date, actually. I just got so caught up in him that I threw caution to the wind.”
“And what’s wrong with that? You think Fiona and I weren’t scared to take a chance on our guys? If you recall, Fiona flipped the hell out before she and Mark got their shit together.”
I smiled a little at that. Fiona really had lost her shit. But then, we were talking about Mark so it’s understandable.
“I’m really happy things worked out for you guys, but it’s not going to happen for me. And, besides, I’m sure Jake doesn’t have any real feelings for me. He’s just looking for a good time with a sexually confident girl. Like I said, it was false advertising.”
“Okay, first, how do you know Jake doesn’t have feelings for you? Do you have any actual evidence that he’s just looking for a casual fling? And second, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” Fiona hit me with a couch pillow.
“Jesus, what’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?!”
“You’re totally hot, and you’re a complete catch! Why would you sell yourself short?”
“Correction. I was hot and a catch on the night of the wedding. Not in my real life.”
This time it was Laney who hit me with a pillow.
“I’m gonna start fighting back soon, and I’ve got more muscle than you two put together—just sayin’.” Laney scoffed and Fiona started in on me again.
“Jake has been practically stalking you! And by ‘you’ I mean the t-shirt wearing, prickly, stabby Bailey. Not just the one in a dress! What do you want him to do, rent out a billboard saying, ‘Yo, Bailey Murphy, I’ve got a huge boner for you!’?”
Laney laughed, but I felt my eyes welling with tears—again. My next words came out in a whisper. “He’s going to get bored with me and break my heart, and I can’t take that again. Especially from someone like him.”
The Lucky One (Carolina Connections Book 3) Page 14