Quiet Storm, Season 2, Episode 6 (Rising Storm)

by Julie Kenner

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Scott said as he helped himself to a handful of Jeffry’s popcorn. “I was hoping you’d change your mind. Come on.”

  Jeffry followed Scott into the dim theater, his head spinning a little as he thought of the smile that lit Scott’s eyes. Was this a date? Was he actually out on a date with an insanely hot college guy?

  They moved up the stairs and then slid into one of the rows. Scott moved to the center, which scored points in Jeffry’s book, as those were the best seats, but then Scott immediately lost points when he sat down right next to another guy even though the theater was mostly empty. Because that was just too weird.

  Except then he realized that the guy wasn’t a stranger. The guy was Max Marshall.

  Which meant that this was definitely not a date.

  “Look who I found in the lobby,” Scott said to Max, as if it was just the most random of coincidences that Jeffry happened to be in a revival house in Fredericksburg, an hour away from his house.

  “Jeffry, hey. Good to see you. How’s Brit?”

  “Good.” Jeffry’s voice sounded squeaky to his ears, and he cleared his throat. “She’s out with Marcus tonight.”

  “Date night, huh?”

  “For some people, I guess,” Jeffry said, then winced, wishing he could kick his own ass.

  Scott glanced at him sideways, a small smile playing at his lips. Then he settled into his seat and Jeffry did the same, so that Scott was in the middle.

  “Can I share your popcorn?” Scott asked.

  “Sure,” Jeffry said, shifting the bag so that it was between their seats. The lights dimmed and the trailers began and Jeffry sat stiff in the dark, suddenly aware that Scott was right there, so close their shirt sleeves brushed. He couldn’t think. Hell, he could barely breathe. He was far too aware of the man next to him.

  Get a grip, Rush.

  Right. He could do that.

  He focused on the screen. Images from an upcoming disaster film flashed in the dark, the brooding hero insisting that if they didn’t act now, the capital would fall.

  Another trailer, this one a romantic comedy with a ditzy blonde and a Big Misunderstanding. In the dark, Jeffry rolled his eyes.

  Another and another, until finally Jeffry allowed himself to be swept away into magic of the cinema, so that by the time the Monty Python and the Holy Grail opening credits were running and he was reading about the Moose, he was completely relaxed.

  Then Scott went and blew that all to hell by reaching into the bag of popcorn at the exact same time as Jeffry, and their hands touched, and electric sparks shot all the way up Jeffry’s arm, and it was everything he could do not to gasp.

  And that was the end of it. He couldn’t manage to pay attention to even one more second of the movie. All he could do was think about the feel of Scott’s skin. All he wanted was another casual brush, and another, and another.

  By the time the lights came up in the theater, he was a wreck.

  “One of my favorite movies,” Scott said, his gaze fixed tight on Jeffry. “But honestly, it just gets better every time I see it.”

  “Yeah. Um, yeah, it really does.”

  “We should get back,” Max said. “You know Grandma’s gonna wait up for us.”

  “Sure,” Scott said. “Let’s go.”

  Jeffry walked with them out of the theater feeling vaguely disappointed and weirdly jealous. When Max peeled off to go to the restroom, Jeffry blurted out, “Do you want to come over tomorrow? We could watch Life of Brian. Or play video games.”

  “I’m heading back to College Station tomorrow,” Scott said, referring to his college town.

  “Oh.” The depth of his disappointment shocked Jeffry.

  “You know, I should have breakfast with Max and Mrs. Garten, but maybe I could come by around eleven? And then I’ll come see you before I hit the road.”

  “That sounds great.” Jeffry tried to keep his tone casual. He was pretty sure he was failing. “I’d say my mom would cook lunch for us, but the house’ll be empty.”

  “So I don’t get to meet the famous senator?”

  Jeffry made a face. “Would you want to?”

  “No. I just want to hang with you.”

  “Good, because he’ll be gone. He and my grandmother are in Austin for a charity thing. And my mom and sister and going to San Antonio tomorrow morning to shop.”

  “Well, then,” Scott said. “It’ll just be you and me.” The corner of his mouth twitched, and as Max headed back to them, Scott lowered his voice. “Just think of the trouble we could get into.”

  Then he winked and headed off with Max, leaving Jeffry standing in the theater lobby, his mind conjuring all sorts of devious, wonderful, delicious trouble.

  Chapter 5

  The square always bustled after church on Sundays, and today was no exception. Mallory stood on the sidewalk in front of the savings & loan and looked through the crowd of tourists and locals as they window-shopped their way around the square and crowded into the Bluebonnet Cafe and Cuppa Joe.

  Already, every table in Cuppa Joe would be occupied, but Mallory wasn’t concerned about getting a seat. She and her boyfriend, Luis, were meeting her brother, Marcus, and Luis’s sister, Marisol, to have The Big Talk. And since Marisol owned the place, she was undoubtedly saving them some seats.

  Right now, she was scouring the crowd for Luis so that they could walk in together. Considering what they were all about to talk about, she figured a unified front was the best way to go.

  With a sigh, she glanced at her wrist, then frowned when she saw that he was late. Only a minute, but still. This was the time to show how responsible they were. Strolling in late wasn’t going to do them any favors.

  Figuring that maybe he was coming from the opposite direction, she started to turn around, and as she did, she noticed Lacey standing near the gazebo with Zeke Johnson. They were probably talking about the bench Lacey was arranging for Jacob’s memory, and Mallory felt a tug deep inside. She wanted to go tell Lacey how proud she was of her. She missed Lacey something fierce.

  Or, at least, she missed the old Lacey. And she was still a little afraid that if she went to Lacey now, the raging uber-bitch would surface, flaunt her tits, and try to steal Luis all over again.

  “Hey,” said the guy in question as he finally reached her, a little out of breath as he’d been jogging down the block. “You ready? I think we—oh.”

  Mallory nodded. “I thought maybe we should go say hi. I feel bad we didn’t say anything yesterday when we saw her.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” He lifted a shoulder, clearly not liking that plan, and Mallory reminded herself that Lacey had been vile to both of them. Heck, she’d played both of them, going after Luis hot and heavy, and even spreading rumors that they’d slept together. “It’s not like we have time. They’re waiting for us.”

  For a second, Mallory hesitated. Lacey had been such a wreck after Jacob’s death. Maybe they needed to just move on. Get past all that nastiness.

  Trouble was, she didn’t know how. And at the moment, Luis didn’t look inclined to brainstorm with her.

  Besides, he was right. She and Luis had someplace important to be. It was time to lay down the law with their siblings.

  Leaving Lacey behind, they hurried into Cuppa Joe and slid into the booth, Mallory beside her brother, and Luis beside his sister.

  Marcus and Marisol looked at each other, and then Marcus cleared his throat. “Okay. You guys wanted to talk. What have you got to say?”

  Little red-faced butterflies twisted in Mallory’s gut as the memory of That Night washed over her. She’d snuck into Luis’s room, and although they didn’t actually do anything, Marisol had seen the condom wrapper and Marcus had lost his shit.

  And she and Luis had been banned from spending time alone together.

  At first, Mallory had been mortified. Then she’d been pissed. Then she’d realized it could have been a lot worse. Considering it was her own siste
r Dakota who spilled the truth about Luis’s sister, Ginny, sleeping with Senator Rush—well, that whole thing could have exploded into a Hatfield and McCoy family feud, and she and Luis would have been like Romeo and Juliet. Which was totally mixing her warring families analogy, but whatever.

  Point being, she and Luis had sucked it up for a while, but now it was time to move on.

  Hopefully, Marisol and Marcus would agree.

  “Well?” Marisol prompted, looking between the two of them.

  She caught Luis’s eye, and he drew in a breath. “Mal and I have been talking,” he said. “And we think it’s time for a change.”

  Marcus and Marisol exchanged unreadable glances. “Go on,” Marcus said, but he was looking at Mallory, not Luis.

  “Right,” she said, licking her lips and sitting up straighter. “Well, the thing is, we know we made a mistake. We—we’re too young for sex. We shouldn’t have—um, well, you know.” She sucked in a breath, then blurted out, “We shouldn’t have even thought about it, much less gotten as far as we did.”

  Her brother was actually grinning, which pissed her off. And that calmed her nerves.

  “What?”

  “I think asking you not to think about it is going a little too far.” His tone was teasing, but his expression was both paternal and loving.

  “Oh.” She made a point of not looking at Luis. “Well, good. But as for the doing—”

  “We’re waiting,” Luis said, rescuing her from the pit of awkwardness. “At least until college.”

  “You both talked about this? You decided that’s what you both want and are committed to?” Marisol’s gaze took them both in.

  “Yeah, sis.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mallory echoed.

  “Why?” Marcus demanded.

  This time Mallory spoke up. “Because we’re too young. Because it’s distracting, and we both have a real shot at getting into good schools if we focus on our grades. But most of all because of Ginny.” She hated saying it out loud, but it was true. Ginny and her baby were an object lesson in what could happen. And now Ginny was no longer in college and she was about to be a mom, and Mallory wasn’t that much younger than her. She didn’t want that. Luis didn’t want that. And if not having sex yet was a way to prevent that, then she could deal with that.

  Besides, there was still kissing and lots of other fun things.

  “I love Ginny,” Luis said. “And I’m gonna be the best uncle ever. But I don’t want to be a dad. Not yet. It’s just not worth it.”

  “No,” Marisol said, sounding choked. “You’re both far too young. Ginny’s far too young.”

  Suddenly, Mallory remembered that Marisol had become a “mom” at about Ginny’s age, too. Not really, but by default when her and Ginny and Luis’s parents had been killed in a car accident.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and Marisol, who seemed to understand, reached across the table to take her hand.

  “No, don’t be. I have a great life, and so will Ginny. But it’s not the life either of us would have chosen. You two are being smart and careful. I’m proud of you.”

  “So am I,” Marcus said, and as Mallory looked at Luis, she felt a little swell of pride. They really had done good. Maybe they’d made a mistake, but they’d talked about it, and now they’d fixed it.

  And maybe, just maybe, they could fix the rift with Lacey, too.

  * * * *

  Patrick grabbed a cup of coffee from the self-serve station, then settled in at one of the high tables by the window. Cuppa Joe was bustling as usual on a Sunday, but Marisol was surprisingly not behind the counter. Instead, there was a girl that Patrick vaguely recognized from a career talk he’d done at the high school. She must be working part time, which meant that Lacey Salt still hadn’t shown back up for work, poor kid.

  As for Marisol herself, she was at a table with her brother, Luis, along with Mallory and Marcus Alvarez, and Patrick didn’t have to eavesdrop to know that they had to be talking about the teens. Marisol had told him all about the time that Mallory had snuck into Luis’s bedroom.

  He smiled as he watched her. They’d gone out for so long that he felt a comfortable familiarity just being here in the shop. But just because it was comfortable didn’t mean it was perfect. He’d been pressing Marisol to make her choice, and so far...well, so far she hadn’t chosen him.

  He understood why, of course. How could he not? He knew the burden she’d taken on with her siblings. Knew how hard she worked. And he sure as hell knew how much harder everything had become after Dakota dropped her bomb about Ginny and the senator.

  But if they loved each other, that shouldn’t matter. They should be working together to find a way forward.

  And, honestly, for weeks he kept meaning to take her out for dinner and talk to her about exactly that. Somehow, though, he never seemed to get around to it.

  Maybe he’d mention it now.

  But when their powwow broke up and she slid out of the booth, he didn’t get the chance to go over and greet her. Someone else moved in where Patrick should be.

  Ian Briggs. Marcus’s boss from Montana, who was moving a portion of his cattle business to Storm. The man who’d done a hell of a better job being a father to Marcus than Hector Alvarez had ever been.

  The man who very clearly had a thing for Marisol Moreno. His Marisol Moreno.

  Except when he looked at Marisol, everything he was once sure of started to fizzle and fade. She stood breathing-close to Ian, and her face was flushed and happy. She brushed his sleeve as they walked to the counter. She pulled out a chocolate-chip muffin for him, then laughed when he smeared chocolate on the corner of his mouth.

  And—god help him—she dabbed away the chocolate with the corner of a napkin.

  It wasn’t sexual.

  It wasn’t really even flirty.

  But it was comfortable. It was real.

  And Patrick saw a hell of a lot more than just two people talking and eating. He saw heat. He saw desire.

  He saw something in Marisol’s eyes that he’d never seen before. Certainly not when she’d been looking at him.

  He glanced down at the table and took a breath, then another. He expected a wave of anger. The urge to leap out of his seat and call Ian out for moving in on his girl.

  But those feelings didn’t come.

  He felt hollow, yes. Even a little raw.

  But it wasn’t because Marisol had wounded his heart.

  No, Patrick’s only injury was to his pride. Because it wasn’t him that she wanted, but another man altogether.

  He stood up slowly and moved casually to the door, hoping she wouldn’t see him. Because he had no reason to come here anymore.

  No reason other than coffee and muffins.

  And, maybe, to say good-bye.

  Chapter 6

  This, thought Jeffry, was incredibly awkward.

  Nice, but awkward.

  He was on the couch in the media room with Scott beside him, the divider between them pulled down to hold the sodas they were drinking as they played the latest version of Resident Evil. Usually, Jeffry killed it in this game, but having Scott so close to him—and not knowing if Scott had really come over just to play video games—was messing with his concentration.

  “Dammit,” Scott swore. “I’m dead again.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t heal you.”

  Scott’s grin was mischievous. “Well, I guess you owe me one.”

  The both reached for their sodas at the same time, and their fingers brushed. Jeffry jerked his hand away, then immediately cursed himself. Scott, thank goodness, didn’t say anything. But he did look at the television with a frown.

  “Another round?” Jeffry said.

  “Nah, I think I’ve had enough.”

  Oh. Jeffry tried not to look disappointed that Scott was leaving so soon. And without—well, without doing anything except playing video games.

  “How about we go for a swim?” Scott said.

  Jeffry brea
thed a sigh of relief, even as his eyes opened wide in disbelief. “It’s November. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  “It’s Texas,” Scott countered. “Or hadn’t you noticed? And isn’t your pool heated?”

  “We don’t heat it after October, and the nights are getting cool. I bet the water’s in the sixties.”

  “Then the hot tub it is. You got a suit I can borrow?”

  Shaking his head in amusement, Jeffry stood up. “Sure. We’ve got lots of spares in the pool house.” He hesitated, then added, “We’ve got beer, too.”

  “Even better.”

  They headed outside together, with Jeffry trying to look calm even though his heart was beating so hard and fast he was certain that Scott could see his shirt moving. In the pool house, he went straight for the trunk where they kept bathing suits that friends used when they came over. He found a pair of new swim trunks his mom had picked up on sale at the end of the season and tossed them to Scott. “Will these work?”

  “Looks about right,” he said. “Got a changing room?” He flashed a teasing grin. “Or shall I just strip down?”

  Jeffry swallowed. “Uh, over there.” He pointed to the small bathroom. “Go ahead. I’ll find my suit and then go after you.”

  Scott did, and Jeffry started rummaging in the family chest of drawers for his suit, hoping it wasn’t inside in the laundry room. He finally found it just as he heard the door open and Scott emerge.

  He glanced up then immediately wished he hadn’t. Scott stood there in a pair of dark blue swim trunks with red piping down the sides. His legs were tan and lean, and his chest sported a full six-pack that Jeffry—what the hell was going on with him?—wanted to run his fingers over just to feel the way Scott’s skin felt against his own.

  “Oh,” he said stupidly. “They fit.”

  “Yeah. They fit great.” Scott took a step toward him. Then another, and another. Until he was standing right in front of Jeffry. So close that Jeffry really could reach out and touch him if he wanted to.

  And, dear god, he really, really wanted to.