by Mariah Dietz
I shake my head in response and pull two twenties from my back pocket. “Your next round’s on me. Have a good night.” I pause and wave to the three men standing a dozen feet back, watching us—his wingmen. “And remember, if a woman does something like keeps your eye, smiles at you, winks at you, approaches you—then they’re interested.” I tuck the bills between his crossed arms and then pat his shoulder as I turn him around in the direction of his friends.
I watch him retreat several steps before he takes a deep breath and turns back to Kennedy for a final glance, then continues to his buddies.
“You basically just shattered his world, you know that, right?” Kennedy pushes her glasses back into place, though they’re already high on the bridge of her nose.
“By telling him you’re not interested in him?”
She shakes her head, the gesture so slight her long hair doesn’t even move. “By telling him no one in the entire town likes him.”
I chuckle, and in response, Kennedy smiles. Her lips are painted the same shade of red as the lights on a patrol car, bringing a sharp contrast to her white teeth.
“You must be Joey.”
I back up, allowing space for Kennedy’s friend, and smile widely, likely exposing exactly how much I like that she knows who I am and how much I like Kennedy. “I am. And you must be Violet.”
“The one and only,” she says, offering her hand. She has a firm handshake and looks me in the eye. I don’t doubt for a single second that she’s from Boston, and it’s not just because I can hear her faint accent. “I have to say, I was kind of looking forward to you kicking his ass, but—” She smiles, shifting her gaze to Kennedy for only a second before returning to me. “That was sexy. I like you already, Joey DeLuca.”
I glance to Kennedy, who’s rolling her eyes in response. “All of her dreams have come true by you being here,” she admits.
Confusion has me staring at Kennedy, waiting for further clarification. But she’s looking at Violet, smiling as she shakes her head.
“She means I’m really glad I get to meet you because I’m great at reading people and their intentions,” Violet says, clueing me in.
“You’re reading my intentions?” I ask.
Violet nods boldly, again staring me right in the eyes. She reminds me a bit of my sisters, and of myself, as she remains unforgiving and demanding.
Kennedy laughs, her green eyes finally returning to me.
Just yesterday morning I was telling her we could be friends with benefits.
Just this afternoon I was failing to convince Arianna that Kennedy was going to move back to Boston and that things would end between us when she did.
Just this evening I came here with Jake and Coen with the intention of distracting myself from going to the pond so I wouldn’t wait for her like a creep.
And just now I’ve realized I’ve lied to everyone, including myself.
“She talks a big game. You guys will either get along great or become enemies.” Kennedy shrugs with indifference, but I can see the concern in the way the skin around her eyes tightens.
“You guys want to play some pool?” I ask again.
Violet nods. “You bet we do.” She pushes away from the bar, and the three of us make our way back to the pool tables, where Coen and I each grab an additional stool for Violet and Kennedy.
“Thanks,” Kennedy says, setting her purse on the stool Coen brings over. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Coen’s instant smile appears. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Hi, Jake,” Kennedy calls. “How are you?”
Jake nods. “Hey, Jelly Bean.”
Violet smiles. “I love that they all know you as Jelly Bean. Love it.”
“Jake, this is my good friend, Violet,” Kennedy says, ignoring her comment.
“Best friend,” Violet corrects her, shaking Jake’s hand.
“And, Vi, this is Coen, Joey’s brother.” Kennedy extends a hand toward my brother.
Violet shakes his hand as well and then turns toward Kennedy. “I don’t know if it’s because you’ve been down here a few weeks or the alcohol, but you’re starting to get a drawl.”
Kennedy shakes her head and takes a seat on the stool beside where I’m standing. “If you ask Joey, he’ll tell you I sound like a librarian.”
“How does a librarian sound?” Violet asks, looking to me.
“Probably a lot like Kennedy,” I admit.
Violet giggles and Jake nods as he sets to work, setting up the table.
“I do not look or sound like a librarian.” Kennedy sounds nearly indignant.
“You do,” I tell her before lowering my face so only she can hear me. “And it’s sexy as all hell.” I move my hand to her bare knee and gently squeeze.
Kennedy pulls her head back, her eyes pinched in a scowl. “Have you ever seen or heard of a librarian being portrayed as anything but stodgy and boring?”
“Trust me, the porn industry has made billions off the fantasy.”
Her nose wrinkles, and for a moment I’m backtracking, wondering why in the hell I’d mention porn to her and how I’m going to dig myself out of this crater of a mistake. I look to the others to see how badly my words were perceived, but they’re talking, allowing us a moment.
“You’re thinking school girls and their Catholic uniforms.”
I quickly shake my head and then lift a shoulder. “Sure. Show any teen guy a girl in a plaid skirt, and they’ll tell you it’s sexy. Men don’t want girls, though; we want smart, motivated, and sexy women who know how to put us in our place.”
This time, Kennedy looks away, surveying our audience for a moment before returning to me. Emerald eyes dance over my face, continuously landing on my lips before averting to my eyes. “Are you trying to flirt with me again?”
I consider the small crowd of people here tonight and wonder if Kennedy would care if I kissed her. If that’s what’s stopping her from kissing me, when I know that’s what she’s thinking of as her glance drifts back to my lips again.
“Because you’re doing a much better job of it this time.”
Public restrooms suddenly aren’t quite so disgusting as I consider Kennedy in the picture.
We play four rounds, changing the teams with each game. My focus remains on Kennedy the entire time, watching how she interacts with the others. Noting how at ease she is with Violet. Appreciating how easily she gets along with my brother and how she seems to genuinely care when she asks how Hayden and Ella are.
Jake pulls his phone out of his pocket as I begin racking the balls. “Sorry, man, but I’ve got to call it a night.”
“Me too,” Violet says. “It’s going to be a long drive home tomorrow.”
I reluctantly grab the tray. I’m not ready for this night to end.
“Do you guys need a ride home?” I ask, looking to Kennedy.
“We drove,” she says.
“Do you have candy at your place?” Violet asks, looking to me. “She craves sugar when she’s been drinking.”
“She’s got jelly-bean stashes. Check her glove compartment.” I grin.
“You should grab some to bring with you,” Violet tells her.
I stop, realizing Violet’s insinuation.
“I had to bring them into the hardware store. It’s been so hot, they’ve been melting.”
“You guys should stop and get some.” Violet looks at me. “Once she was at my house and was so desperate, she rolled grapes in sugar.”
Amused, I watch the two on their path of recollection that is punctuated by giggling and objections as they sift through details and memories.
Jake turns to me with a sour expression pursing his lips. “Grapes dipped in sugar?” he asks me before shaking his head. “Sounds disgusting.” His comment is too quiet for either of the women to take note of. If he realizes the insinuation of Kennedy coming home with me, he either doesn’t care or question it as he leafs through some bills in his pocket.
; I raise a hand when he offers them to me.
“Weren’t the stakes five bucks a game?” he asks.
“Consider it a warm-up for next time.”
“Oh, so you’re giving me pity games now, huh?” He tucks the bills back into his pocket and grins.
“Figured I’ve taken enough of your money over the years.”
He laughs. “Isn’t that the truth. You’d think I’d have learned by now to find some new friends.”
I chuckle. “Remember, you don’t have to outrun the bear, you just have to outrun whoever you’re with.”
He slaps my shoulder.
I turn my attention back to the ladies, whose voices have turned into quiet whispers. Their hushed tones and serious expressions are paired with holding hands, a gesture I can tell is one from an aged friendship and support. I force myself not to listen, though I’m already wondering if it involves me.
“You missing work yet?” Jake asks.
Coen laughs. “Would you?”
“I don’t miss it even a little,” I admit.
Jake’s gaze drops as he releases a quiet laugh. “Are you happy with the transfer? I know you had a few concerns before you made the move.”
With the toe of my flip-flop, I kick a small piece of dirt under one of the stools, considering my answer. “I’m happy on days I feel like I’m making a difference, but to be honest, the longer I’m in the force, the harder it is for me.”
“Because of what you see?”
I lift a shoulder. “That’s part of it. I also think the prison-and-jail system need a huge overhaul. Privatized jails and prisons—where inmates are being beaten and raped while we turn a blind eye to it and try to slap the excuse that they aren’t humans because they’ve committed a crime—are getting harder and harder for me to stand by. I see what some of these monsters do, beating their wives and children, kids being neglected and malnourished, and rapists who think they have the right to harm others—I hate them. Every day I struggle with understanding how a person grows up to become that, to do that kind of harm to another person—and I don’t understand it. Then I think of the other people I’ve seen being processed and put in jail for petty crimes and unpaid tickets and stupid shit you know they’re regretting, and I wonder how things got so messed up and if we’re making it worse by putting them in an environment where they have to become stronger, bigger, tougher in order to go unscathed.”
Jake blinks, his mouth parted as he processes my admission.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck as the muscles constrict. “I don’t want people who hurt and violate others to be roaming the streets. I just wonder if we’re doing this backward sometimes. If we put as much time and money and resources into preventing these crimes, what would our world look like?”
He expels a deep breath. “There are a lot of things wrong with the world.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Coen says.
“Are you considering transferring again?” Jake asks me.
I shrug to avoid answering his question. Lately, the only thing I’ve been thinking about is quitting.
“You know, Sheriff Ray announced his retirement. The town’s aging. People who’ve been running things for decades are all starting to realize they’re ready to pass the reins over and start enjoying all the work and effort they’ve devoted their lives to. It’s opening up positions for other people. You should consider applying. Your salary would probably be butchered and barely recognizable, and your pension would be shit, but you’d be here in Haven Point. Be close to your brother.” He nods toward the women. “Close to Kennedy.”
“She’ll be going back to Boston soon.”
“Will she?” His tone indicates obvious doubt.
I look behind me, where Kennedy and Violet are again smiling as they continue talking quietly, their arms now making wide gestures that make the other laugh.
“She seems pretty happy here. They both do.”
As he speaks my very thought, both women turn their attention toward us, giggling. Kennedy’s gaze travels to my mouth again, and her smile slips as she bites her bottom lip.
Violet beams. “It was so great meeting you, Joey!” she says, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around my waist. “Take care of her,” she whispers. She turns to Coen and then Jake, hugging each of them as well.
The five of us walk out to the parking lot as a group, several people nodding their goodbyes.
I’m regretting my decision to ride here with Coen, unsure of how this will transpire. But Kennedy heads to her car without hesitation, calling out a final goodbye before she gets inside and pulls out her phone.
My phone vibrates against my leg.
Kennedy: I’m going to drive home with Vi, and then I’ll walk to your place.
I read her message twice before glancing up to see her waving at us.
Jake passes by me, his attention on their car. He pats my shoulder a few times. “A man in your position should be smiling.”
I shake my head in an attempt to clear my many thoughts of doubt. Ideas of her wanting to avoid me, being embarrassed or ashamed of me, not wanting anyone to know about us . . .
“What’s her history?” I ask Jake.
“Kennedy’s?”
I nod.
Coen shakes his head again. “He already told you he doesn’t know.”
Jake pulls to a stop, running a hand through his short, cropped hair, a wince closing his eyes. “I’m a little surprised you haven’t already looked up her report.”
I tried. It was blank, but I don’t admit to him that I abused my power. “That’s because what I’m asking about isn’t on there.”
Jake’s gaze returns to the street Kennedy and Violet disappeared down. “What are you asking about?”
“You know what I’m asking.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think I do. The only people you’ve ever asked me about are ones you don’t trust.”
“I don’t trust anyone,” I remind him.
Jake’s eyebrows jump before his gaze shifts to Coen for a brief second. “She’s the town’s sweetheart.” His shoulders rise. “The only thing you can can’t trust her with is a bag of jelly beans.” He shakes his head and smiles.
“Have a great night, Jake.” Coen clamps a hand on my shoulder and leads us over to his truck.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“Going on with what?”
“You!”
“She’s just . . .” My words fade as my temper rises.
“The more I think about tonight, the more I feel like a complete tool.”
Coen jerks his head back. “What? Why?”
“Why wouldn’t she have come over when she first saw us? Why’d she make a beeline to the farthest point from me? And why would she send me a text telling me she’s coming over? Why not just tell me? It’s like she doesn’t want to be seen with me.”
“Not everyone is out to screw you over, Joe. You have to remember, this town is small. What she does, who she’s with, what she says—it’s all going to follow her. Her parents will hear about it, her sister will know, everyone will. Until you guys sort out what’s going on between you and decide if it’s something serious, you can’t expect her to act any different.”
“This is stupid. Everything’s set up for this to fail and implode on us.”
Coen pulls into the driveway and comes to a stop but keeps the truck running. “You’ll figure it out. If you want this to be something, you guys will find a way to make it work.”
Thoughts of Kennedy subtly leaning against me tonight infiltrate my thoughts, bringing memories of how her perfume mingled with the taste of my beer.
“This isn’t a case, Joe. If she can help you forget the ugly stuff and sleep at night, that’s what you need to focus on.”
I release a deep breath.
“But remember, you’re in a small town. Her small town. You can’t get all pissy if she doesn’t want to advertise that she�
�s sleeping with you.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were,” Coen cuts me off. “Everyone knows her, Joey.”
“Are you telling me I’m not good enough?” My tone is teasing, but my question is 100 percent sincere.
“I’d guess by the way she gets nervous around you and most everyone else in this town, Kennedy doesn’t feel like she’s good enough.”
I pull my head back and am ready to fire back with how ridiculous that is when we’ve just agreed that she’s the town’s sweetheart, and I know personally how mouthy and stubborn she can be. Then I think of her telling me how I wouldn’t have noticed her. How she stared at my lips but didn’t act on it.
“Did we worry about what girls’ parents thought about us when we were in high school?” I ask, raking a hand through my hair.
Coen laughs. “You’ve got more than just her parents.”
“This is crazy. It’s stupid,” I repeat.
“Joe, you’re about to turn thirty-four. If you’ve learned nothing else in those years, you must have at least learned that everything pertaining to women is stupid and crazy.”
“I’m going to quote you when I tell Ella that.”
His quick smile appears. “Good. I need someone else to remind her.”
We share a laugh that fades as Coen turns off the engine of his truck. “I know it’s tough to trust people, and that it’s even harder for you. But if you like her, you have to give her some benefit of the doubt. Especially when she hasn’t done anything to make you question her.”
“I hate Jackson,” I admit randomly.
Coen simply nods. “There could be worse situations. At least she has someone to look out for her.”
“That’s what I hate about him. He always wants to look out for her.”
“You need a flashlight?” Coen ignores my petty attitude and reminds me I need to get going.
“You got an extra one in here?”
He nods and flips open the middle compartment that’s filled with several flashlights. I grab one and click it on to check the battery before jumping out of the truck.
“Hey, Coen,” I call out quietly, so as to not wake Hayden or Ella in case she’s gone to bed as I take steps backward toward the edge of my brother’s property.