Chapter 6
JACE
I don’t know what pisses me off more—the fact that Presley’s idea isn’t bad or that I didn’t come up with it myself.
Because truth be told, her idea is more than “not bad.” It’s pretty good actually. I’m not admitting that though. Especially to her.
Weaving my way through the halls of Hayes Industries headquarters, I let my nose lead the way, the distinct scent of BBQ in the air.
Fuck, I love Mondays. Because Mondays mean Munch—short for Monday Lunch—the weekly lunch meeting where the heads of each department get together to update each other on what is going on, talk strategy, and brainstorm if needed.
And by heads of each department, I mean my siblings and me.
Sure, it’s a business meeting, and we accomplish a lot during this time. But it’s also a moment each week that the seven of us—Gus, Milo, Anton, Huxley, Ewan, Willa, and I—plus our father, Auggie, get to be together doing what we do best.
Each one of us is as different as the departments we oversee.
Milo runs Southern Brothers Brewing with his best friend, Brandt, as well as Pour Decisions, the taphouse bar they opened a couple of years ago here in town.
Hux, lumberjack and environmentalist, oversees the papermill and lumber division, while Ewan owns the local bait and tackle shop.
Although these days it’s a lot more than that—it’s an outdoorsperson’s candy shop, with all the fun gear and toys someone could want.
Anton has always been passionate about one thing—the precious three Ps.
Peaches, peanuts, and pecans. Handing over the agriculture arm to him was a no-brainer.
Willa oversees our charitable giving department, regularly reminding all of us that it’s our responsibility to support the community that keeps us going.
Leaving Gus as executive vice president, responsible for pretty much everything, while still trying to manage the original branch of guns and ammo, since that role hasn’t been backfilled.
And of course, the best department in the whole place—personal safety and security. Because despite all the shit my siblings give me, safety first is without a doubt the best motto to live by.
“Heard you had a run-in with Presley Callahan.”
My father’s thick Georgia drawl makes his comment sound almost musical, if it wasn’t for the accusation in his tone. It’s subtle, but it’s there. After thirty-five years of life with this man, I know.
Two, actually. If we count this morning…
“How’d you hear—” I stop myself before I can even get the whole question out. Because the answer smacks me straight upside the head.
Miss Belle.
Mama was standing right there, well within earshot of the whole thing.
I should have known that she would turn her mom ears on and eavesdrop on my conversation.
Somehow, I thought I was safe when she didn’t comment on it right then and there.
Didn’t chastise me for being less than gentlemanly toward our newest hire.
Toward a woman who thought she had lost her child.
Nodding solemnly—because what else is there to do but own up to it—I join my father at the catering table Miss Harriett, Hayes’s catering manager, has set up for us and busy myself with readying my plate.
It’s unusual that Auggie is the first one here, as more often than not the group is waiting on him, but today Miss Harriett has made pulled pork, one of Auggie’s favorites.
Apparently he also got a heads-up on the menu.
“Your mama tells me it was a bit…tense…”
Tense. That’s one word for it.
“I don’t think it was exactly the reunion either of us wanted.”
“Because neither of you would have wanted one to start with?”
Wow, way to call me out, Dad…
“That would have been preferable.” I nod, putting the last of my helpings of pork, pasta salad, coleslaw, and green beans on my plate and turning to the large conference room table to take my usual seat.
I plop down, pulling out my phone and clearing a set of alerts I ignored earlier before setting it down on the table.
Behind me, I hear my old man sigh, and I don’t need to turn around to know that he’s also rolling his eyes.
“I know there is a history between you two, but don’t you think that enough time has passed?”
Maybe. Then again…
I start to answer, ready to have a moment just him and me, where I can tell him things I’ve never told anyone.
Tell him that I’m more conflicted about Presley’s return than I want to admit.
Because like it or not, she’s just as pretty as she was our senior year.
Maybe more so. And that little boy of hers? Holding on to him felt…different.
But on the other side of that coin, she’s still Presley Callahan. The girl who stole my spot. Unfairly.
One could even say she cheated.
Oh, wait…I did say that…
None of that matters though. I barely get my mouth open when my middle brother’s voice interrupts.
“From what I hear, it was like no time had passed,” Hux says, rounding the corner into the executive conference room and heading straight toward the food.
“You weren’t even there,” I retort, not ready for all my brothers to jump on this same bandwagon.
“But I was, and I felt the ice,” Anton comments, hot on Hux’s heels.
Looks like I’m not going to get a choice.
“Or maybe it was heat…” Anton pushes. As the instigator of the family, he’s always ready and willing to push whatever button he can find. And right now, it’s easy to tell that he thinks he’s found mine. “Because maybe what y’all need is to take a page from little sister’s book…”
“Who’s doing what to my book?” Willa asks.
“Jace and Presley Callahan,” Hux answers.
“Ohhhh,” Willa draws out of the word, cocking her hip to one side and waggling her eyebrows.
A former Miss Georgia—just like our mama—Willa is all poise and grace on the outside.
But as her brothers, we know better. She’s a spitfire if there ever was one, and she will cut you like a razor and walk away before you even realize you’re bleeding. “I heard y’all ran into each other.”
“She wasn’t watching her kid and he ran off,” I comment, against my better judgment. I shouldn’t give them any ammunition, but the need to defend myself is taking over. “She’s lucky I’m the one who found him and not some creeper.”
“Did she reward you with a kiss?” Anton asks, fluttering his eyelashes as he sinks into the seat next to me.
“Fuck off.”
“See, that’s what I think maybe you need to do,” Hux says, joining us. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s what you wanted back in high school.”
Oh, he’s a dead man…
“I definitely recommend hate sex,” Willa adds.
“Willa Mae…” My father sighs, his voice more that of a man about to interject wisdom rather than scold. “I’m not sure we need to advise anyone to take your route to forever.”
Willa shrugs, accepting the comment and turning to make her plate.
She’s fully aware that she and her now husband, Nash, took a…
nontraditional, shall we say, approach to finding their happily ever after.
One that included sneaking around for more than a decade, a pregnancy scare, and convincing the entire town they hated each other the entire time, all while harboring secret feelings for the other.
I’m with Auggie on this—not a recommended course of action. And absolutely not one I’m going to take.
No matter how pretty Presley Callahan is.
“Serious question though,” Anton chimes in, the smirk on his face growing, clueing me in that he is anything but serious. “Does it count as a meet-cute if you already know each other? Or is it a re-meet-cute?”
That didn’t take long…
I groan internally. It was only a matter of time until one of them busted out this line of inquiry. My choice of reading material is often a subject of teasing, but it’s a badge I wear with honor. I maintain this lot could learn a thing or two from my books.
“I think the better question is what trope they would be,” Milo interjects, walking in behind Gus and Ewan.
I throw him a look. “How do you know what a trope is?”
He shrugs, taking a plate from baby brother. “Brenna reads.”
That doesn’t fully answer my question, but I accept it. Because with the addition of the three of them, then the gang’s all here. We can get this show on the road.
“If you’re looking for a place to catch up with each other, may I suggest Pour Decisions? First drink is on me,” he adds, winking at me.
“Second is on me,” Ewan tacks on.
Or they could all gang up on me. Fuck me…
As the family introvert, Ewan’s a man of few words. He was also a year behind Presley and me in high school and watched the whole thing play out years ago. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s all in with giving me shit.
Presley and I will not be having drinks at my brother’s taproom to play catch-up. Or anywhere else.
“They need a more family-friendly place than Pour Decisions,” Anton says. “The kid really took to Jace.”
I shove a large forkful of green beans into my mouth to stop myself from replying. Anton’s not wrong; Otis and I bonded pretty quickly. He’s a pretty cool little guy. Too bad his mother—
“We could babysit so they get alone time,” Hux offers.
And I’m done…
“Gus, start the meeting, would ya?” I say, ready for all this to stop. We can move on now.
“Sure,” he replies over his shoulder, still filling his plate. “You can go first since you’re so eager. Do you have an update on the social media series Bronwyn wants to focus on?”
Fucker…
Of course that’s what he asks first. Not about the self-defense seminar schedule, or the demo coming up next weekend, or even how many college campuses we’ll be visiting this year as part of our campus safety program. Nope, he’s going straight for the jugular.
“Actually, I do. I was just in with Bronwyn before this, pitching her an idea.”
“Which is…” He gestures for me to continue, his face relaying that he doesn’t believe me.