Chapter Seven #2
“I’m not wasting my time.” Jet sounded puzzled. “And why not?” I didn’t have an answer, and Jet beckoned to someone behind me. “Guys, I have someone I want you to meet.”
I winced at how hard he was trying.
“No, Jet—”
I realized it was too late when two big men joined us and gave me a friendly smile.
“Another great turnout, my man,” one of them said.
“It sure is. I wanted to introduce you to Theo Sweeny, one of our most successful local business owners. Theo’s been to a couple of benefits, but you two are usually hosting and so busy, you haven’t had a chance to meet.
Theo owns Sweeny’s pub on Main Street. Best place in town to catch a game any night of the week. And the wings are awesome.”
My lips twitched. “I’m not sure I’d call myself one of the most successful. But nice to meet you both.”
“This is Devlin Summers and Brody Martin, formerly of the Brooklyn Kings and the founders of GAINS. Theo and I went to high school together.”
“Great to meet you.” Devlin shook my hand first, then Brody.
“Sweeny’s? Yeah, we’ve passed it a ton of times and always mean to drop in.
” Devlin grinned. “With our schedules and only being here part of the year, we don’t get out enough, but we gotta change that, Brody.
Especially if there are wings involved.” He rubbed his hands.
“Works for me,” Brody said in his soft Southern accent. “Nothin’ better than watchin’ a game with a bunch of friends, good beer, and some killer wings.”
Jet, whose arm remained around my shoulders, gave me a slight squeeze. “Theo’s got the best of all three. Me ’n Harte go at least once or twice a week. Starr and Kane as well. It’s just a great local spot where everyone feels safe.”
Devlin nudged Brody. “Sounds like a plan.”
A couple holding hands was passing by but stopped.
“What’re you all planning, and why weren’t we involved?” a big, dark-haired man asked. His partner tucked his long blond hair behind his ears and gave me a friendly smile.
“Trick, Fallon. This is Theo, who owns the best bar in Appleton Falls,” Devlin introduced us. They shook my hand, and my lips twitched.
“M-more like the only bar.”
Ignoring me, Devlin rambled on. “We’re all gonna go hang out at Theo’s place, Sweeny’s. After the season, you all need to come up.”
The two nodded as Fallon chuckled. “Funny, we were thinking the same thing. We like it so much, we want to buy a home here.”
“Yes!” Dev pumped his fist. “Awesome.”
“We just need somewhere that has a separate house for my parents,” Patrick explained. “But we love the idea of a house in the country for the off-season, and from all our visits, we figured we need to be where we know people.”
“We can introduce you to our real estate agent. I’m sure she’ll find you what you want,” Jet suggested.
Several other large men joined us, and I found myself in the center of a group of athletes I’d only caught glimpses of on the television or whose names I heard my customers yelling out—Tremaine, Bouvier, Sloane.
Harte appeared and handed Jet a drink. “Theo, you need anything?”
“No, I-I’m fine, thanks.”
“So this is where the party’s at.”
Jaxon’s smooth voice from behind sent my heart pounding.
“Jaxon, welcome,” Harte greeted him, his gaze pinned on me. “Everyone, this is our district attorney, Jaxon Polaris.”
I watched him turn on the charm to everyone right before he smiled at me. “Hi.”
I dipped my head. “Hi.”
“We were all talking about Sweeny’s and how it’s the place to be.” Harte grinned. “Especially if you want to catch a game.”
“Definitely,” Jaxon agreed. “I know it’s where I go to wind down after a rough trial. Even when it’s busy, Theo always makes me feel like I’m special.” Deep blue eyes narrowed. “I thought of something that can help GAINS and Sweeny’s.”
“Yeah?” Devlin asked. “What is it?”
“You have all these sports legends here. Why not sign a bunch of jerseys, balls, pucks, whatever, and have them displayed at Sweeny’s? Then hold an auction—advertise it heavily and you’ll get a ton of money to benefit LGBTQ+ youth groups.”
All eyes focused on me. My throat dried, and sweat broke out on my brow, but I managed to speak. “Th-that sounds like a good idea. I-I’m happy to help any way I can, if you really think—”
“Great idea, Jaxon,” Ripley Tremaine interjected. “Denis and I can get tons of stuff from the Blades.”
“Mais oui,” Denis Bouvier chuckled. “And I also like this little town. It reminds me of home.” His eyes danced. “Bitter cold.”
“Great,” Jaxon said happily, and I managed a weak smile.
“Guess it’s all figured out.”
Harte took Jet’s hand. “Guys, we should work the crowd. Babe, I need you to help me.”
From Jet’s skeptical face, I doubted it, but they all dispersed, leaving Jaxon and me alone.
“I’m glad to see you,” Jaxon murmured, and as much as I wanted to believe him, I knew it was only because he hoped to persuade me to help him with his plan. But standing there with him as people circulated, a yearning spiked in my chest. To belong. Be seen.
“Take that step,” Harte had said to me earlier.
“Me too,” I answered, and Jaxon lit up.
“I think you’ll get lots of business with the sports memorabilia and auction.”
“You’re probably right.” I bit my lip. I should ask him to help me. I didn’t know names or teams, and I knew he would if I asked.
“Jaxon. I figured I’d probably see you here.
” A stocky man of about fifty, with sandy hair, slightly gray at the temple, clapped him on the shoulder.
“Jennifer has her church group meeting, and we have a babysitter, so I thought I’d come on over and see some famous faces. I’m a big sports fan. How about you?”
This had to be the man Jaxon said was planning to run against him. I automatically disliked him, which wasn’t like me, but something about him rubbed me the wrong way. His hearty welcome was forced and didn’t warm the chill in his eyes.
“Same. I had no idea I’d be seeing you. I thought Clarke Forman was the RSVP from your office.”
The man chuckled. “I’m sure you didn’t. Clarke got stuck with a new case, poor guy, so I figured I might as well represent.” He gave me a nod. “George Winston, Jaxon’s counterpart from the next county.”
Distaste oozed from Jaxon’s pores, but he mustered a faint upward tilt of his lips.
“This is my friend, Theo Sweeny. Theo, this is District Attorney George Winston.”
Winston’s attention flicked to Jaxon, whose face tightened.
“Nice to meet you, Theo.”
I met Jaxon’s eyes.
“You too.”
“How long have you two known each other?”
Take that step.
I lifted my chin and hoped I could keep my voice from quavering. “Long enough.” Then I slid my arm through his and gazed into his eyes.
Jaxon’s brows flew up, and he smiled.