Chapter Eleven #2
Her heated gaze pinned him. Then she licked her lips, and Owen’s body tightened. Everywhere. Nerve endings fired. Messages flew from his brain to his manhood in record time. Thankfully he was seated, otherwise the force of desire slamming into him would’ve brought him to his knees.
Then she strode away. He knew she meant to appear strong and confident, but the sway in her hips mesmerized him, obliterating any thought but exploring those curves. A minute later her ball zoomed down the lane to blast into the pins with a sharp crack, earning her a spare.
Cheers and applause from her teammates mixed with the groans from his echoed around them as she rejoined the group. The women greeted her with high fives. Carly waved a hand toward the lane and then motioned to Owen. “You’re up, I believe.”
Not quite, but darn close. He joined her. “Be careful of throwing down a challenge. You might get more than you expect.”
“I can handle anything you toss my way, fella.”
Her sexy tone wrapped around him and held on tight. He bet she could.
“This show’s better than that chick flick you made me watch last weekend,” Brayden said to Kelli.
“It was a romantic comedy,” his wife corrected.
Owen glanced around to find the other couples staring at him and Carly with big, stupid grins on their faces. How had he and Carly gotten so wrapped up in each other they hadn’t realized they were putting on a show?
As he reached for his ball, he spotted Mason Rayburn, All American Lanes’s owner heading toward them. The man’s purposeful stride, frown, and wrinkled brow told Owen whatever news he had to deliver wasn’t good.
The fun was over.
*
All American Lanes’s owner strode directly to Carly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we need to talk in private.”
The concern lining the older man’s round face, told Carly something was wrong. She fingered her turquoise necklace. Figured. She’d been having more fun than she’d had all last year. Unfortunately, she’d let the blue bird of happiness hang around too long, and now it would poop on her boots.
Owen appeared beside her. “Want me to come along?”
She shook her head. “I’m sure I’ll be back in a minute.”
Carly followed Mason from the alley to an empty spot among the tables. “Ryder’s here with Dylan Danvers. This isn’t my first go around with that teenager, but tonight I smell liquor on their breath, and fear they’ve done something else too.”
No. It couldn’t be. She worried Ryder had been drinking but she hadn’t suspected drugs. How could she have missed that? Carly pressed her clammy palm over her heart and breathed deeply to calm her anxiety as she’d learned in yoga. “Where are they?”
“I talked ’em down enough to get them in my office. This is a family place. Other folks are complaining about their language and behavior. If you can get ’em to leave with you, great. If not, I’ll have to call the police. I can’t have them two running off other folks.”
“I appreciate you letting me handle this, Mason.” Carly’s hands shook as she followed Mason toward his office.
She wanted to scream and slap her brother silly for his lousy choice in friends and his stupid behavior.
Drinking was bad enough, but possibly doing drugs, too, and coming to a public place?
She considered calling their father but dismissed the idea.
Even if he could handle the situation, by the time he arrived Mason’s good will and patience could have run out.
This needed immediate action. While she wanted her brother to receive consequences for his actions, she didn’t believe jail was the answer.
When they reached Mason’s office, he unlocked the door, and she thanked him again.
Stepping inside, a string of slurred curses, some of which she didn’t know the meaning of, greeted her.
A second later a tall, skinny teen dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt with a coiled snake holding a rifle and the words ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ on the front tried to push past them.
The look in his eyes told Carly the chip on his shoulder would take a crane to remove. “Get the hell outta my way, old man.”
Ignoring her brother who was slumped in a chair, his head resting on a desktop, Carly stepped between the teen and Mason.
Hoping to keep her voice calm despite the blood pounding in her ears, she smiled at the owner in reassurance.
“I’m sure you have things needing your attention, Mason. I’ll take this from here.”
“You sure, Carly?” After she nodded, Mason patted her arm. “I’ll be outside. If you need me, holler.”
Carly waited for the door’s soft click behind her before she turned to her brother’s friend. “I’m Ryder’s sister. We haven’t met.”
At the sound of her voice, Ryder said, “Dylan, meet my sis, Carly. No matter how deep the shit, she stays polite. Least in public.”
“You’re right. She does have a stick up her ass,” Dylan said.
Hearing Ryder said she had a stick up her ass stung, but having Dylan announce it loud enough Mason surely heard outside hurt more. Pushing aside her humiliation, she focused on convincing the teenagers to leave with her.
“You two were lucky. Mr. Rayburn could have called the police, but thankfully he came to me instead. Now before he reconsiders, I’m taking you both home.”
“I don’t need a ride. I got my truck.” Dylan stormed toward Ryder, grabbed her brother’s T-shirt, and hauled him to his feet. “Get outta the way.”
Arms crossed, her gaze hopefully stern and unflinching, she stared down Dylan, and nodded toward Ryder. “He doesn’t have a choice, but if you want to call a parent to get you, that’s fine.”
In fact, she preferred he do so. Then they could chat, but she kept that detail to herself.
“Forget it. I’m outta here.”
“Not unless it’s with me or a parent.”
Dylan leaned Ryder against a wall and stalked toward her. When his chest bumped hers, she stumbled backwards before regaining her balance.
“Move, or next time you’ll end up on the floor.” Teenage arrogance, mixed with stupidity, fueled by alcohol and Lord only knew what else, twisted Dylan’s features.
Her palms sweaty, her heart raced with fear, as she bit her lip to keep it from trembling.
She refused to back down, but she didn’t want to escalate the situation either.
A tricky tightrope to walk considering this kid was primed for a fight.
She swallowed hard as, hands fisted, Dylan stepped closer.
“Lay a hand on her, and you’ll lose it.” Owen’s voice boomed from behind her.
When had he arrived? She hadn’t heard the door open.
“You could try,” Dylan said, full of teenage defiance.
She glanced over her shoulder at Owen. His stern visage startled her. “I’ve got this.”
Instead of leaving, Owen slid in front of her, leaving him almost nose to nose with Dylan.
Not only did a still lean Owen outweigh the teen by thirty pounds, he stood three inches taller.
Stern, in control, and forceful in the way only military-trained men could be, he’d make a guard dog think twice about barking, much less attacking.
“I survived a suicide bomber. You’re strictly amateur. I’ve forgotten more about fighting than you know. I suggest you listen to Carly, because kid, you don’t want to take me on.”
The two males stood braced, staring each other down. Carly shook her head. If she waited for Owen to back down, they’d be here all night. Hoping the teenager would be more biddable now that she had an enforcer, she said, “Come on. Let’s get you two home.”
Dylan shook his head. While his earlier bravado had slipped a notch since Owen’s arrival, it hadn’t disappeared. He raised his chin. “I can take care of myself.”
“It’s clear you’re under the influence so you can’t drive.” If she allowed him to get behind the wheel and he was in an accident, she’d never forgive herself. “You can pick up your truck tomorrow.”
“I’m over eighteen. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you are,” Owen said.
While she appreciated Owen’s assistance, if the testosterone flooded the room further, she’d grow hair on her chest. It also appeared to be making Dylan more determined to prove his manhood.
Carly glanced at her brother hoping to appeal to him to calm down his friend, but he looked on the verge of passing out. She couldn’t let this escalate further. With Owen’s brain injury, if this kid landed a glancing blow to his head, he could suffer further trauma.
She placed her hand on Owen’s arm. “Owen’s going to help Ryder to the car before he falls on his face.”
When Owen failed to even blink, she resisted the urge to groan in frustration.
The only thing worse than dealing with a stubborn male was dealing with two caught in a pissing match.
“The options haven’t changed, Dylan. Ride with us or call someone to get you, but you’re not driving. What’s it going to be?”
“Some dried up old—”
“I’ll add another option,” Owen said from where he now stood with his arm around Ryder’s waist holding him upright. “I’ll call the police. They can throw your smart ass in jail for the night.”
Dylan paled.
“I bet Carly’s choices look a lot better now.”
Dylan’s shoulders rounded, and his stance slumped, the last of the teenager’s defiance vanishing as he nodded.
As the four of them stumbled from All American Lanes, Carly found it was much easier being the bad guy when she wasn’t the only one. She could get used to having backup.
The biggest issue dealt with, Carly breathed easier. Now all she had to deal with was telling Dylan’s parents what had happened when they took him home.
*