9. Brax
9
brAX
“Well, I guess the date went well,” my sister says as she pours herself a cup of coffee behind the bar. “I haven’t seen you smile this much in…”
I keep my eyes down, finishing a crossword puzzle I’ve been working on for the last hour. “Don’t you have a shop to open?”
The bar is nearly empty, with only a few regulars who should have their names imprinted on their stools. It’s the same thing every day. I open the bar, and they file in to shoot the shit about nonsense while sipping their beers. Once all the drinks are poured, I lean against the bar and work on a crossword puzzle to pass the time before the lunchtime rush begins. From that moment on, the bar is busy until close.
“It’s early.” She leans next to me, getting into my personal space.
“Great,” I mutter .
“Tell me about last night.” She pumps my arm, nearly causing me to miss the square with my pencil.
“It was a date.”
I know I’m not getting out of telling her details, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy on her.
“I’m here. I’m here,” Lulu says as she busts through the door and power walks toward the bar. “What did I miss?” she gasps for air, clearly out of breath from her quicker-than-normal pace.
“Nothing yet.” Tate takes a sip of her coffee, making the most annoying slurping sound in the world. She knows it drives me crazy, and she has every intention of using it as a weapon against me in this conversation.
“Good. Good.” Lulu climbs onto the stool in front of us and touches her chest. “Does the cold always make it so much harder to run, or is it just me?”
“That wasn’t running,” I tell her, not looking up from my newspaper.
“It was to me. I only have two speeds.”
“Slow and slower,” I tease before she has a chance to finish her statement. I love my cousin, but I swear her ass could be on fire and she wouldn’t move any faster.
“Life isn’t a race,” she tells me.
“So…” Tate bumps into me again. “Spill the details, little brother. ”
I sigh deeply as I peer over to where she’s perched. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you kiss?” Lulu blurts out.
Tate giggles. “That, but also, was it good? Are you going to see her again? Did you spend the night together?” she rattles off a few more questions, but I tune her out because my head is already swimming with too much overstimulation.
“All of that,” Lulu adds.
“The date went well. Conversation was easy. I did not make an ass of myself.”
“Shocker,” Tate whispers under her breath, but I ignore her and keep on going.
“We did not spend the night together, and yes, we kissed.”
“Ooooh,” Lulu sings. “Hot.”
“You kissed her on the cheek or the lips?”
Man, my sister is nosier than usual. I mean, she always wants to know everything, but today, she’s extra pushy and ignores all the boundaries.
“I don’t kiss-and-tell,” I explain, dragging my gaze back to the crossword puzzle.
Before I can put my pencil against the paper, Tate swipes it off the bar top. “I’m not asking for a play-by-play,” she says as she holds the newspaper ransom in her hand. “I don’t want to know everything, but tell me, did you at least kiss her on the mouth?”
“Yes,” I grumble.
Lulu and Tate squeal in unison .
“Did your toes curl when you did?” Lulu asks.
My eyebrows draw inward in an instant. “What?”
Lulu smiles at me, waggling her eyebrows. “You know.”
“No. I don’t.”
Lulu rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she lets out a disgusted noise from deep in her throat. “Was the kiss so good that your toes curled in your shoes?”
I blink a few times, wondering what kind of drug she’s on. “That shit doesn’t happen.”
“Uh. Yeah, it does,” Tate tells me. “Wylder totally made my toes curl.”
“That’s a woman thing.”
Lulu clears her throat and makes a funny face. “Sorry, bro. I mean, did she make your dick hard?”
I scrub my hand down my face, wondering what I did in life to deserve these two and this extreme line of questioning. “You two seriously need to get out more or find some friends.”
“That’s a yes and, also, so darn gross,” Tate says. “In my mind, my brother is more like a Ken doll. Totally androgynous.”
“Samesies,” Lulu says to Tate.
“When are you seeing her again?” Tate asks me as I swipe the newspaper from her grip.
“Tonight,” I tell her as I go back to figuring out the last word, and their line of questioning isn’t helping my concentration.
“Excellent,” Tate says. “We should double-date. ”
What is it with everyone and double-dating lately? I do not ever remember a time in my life when I’ve had it brought up twice in a matter of twelve hours.
“Why?” I ask her, but I don’t hate the idea. It would take the pressure off me and let me see a different side of Iris than I’ve seen before. Tate has a way of bringing out the best in people, but also the worst.
“It would be fun. I could use a night out, and so could Wylder. I’d love to get to know my future sister-in-law.”
My eyes widen for a split second as my heart stutter-steps in my chest at the very thought of getting married. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, sis.”
“I’ll remind you that you said that the day you propose.”
“What makes you think she’s the one?” I ask her.
Tate throws her arm around my shoulders. “Because you always kiss-and-tell, and if you aren’t telling, it’s because you know there’s something there.”
“You’re reading way too much into it.”
“We’ll see,” she tells me. “You said you wanted to settle down, and then boom, a beautiful and available woman lands in your lap.”
“It’s like you ordered her straight from heaven,” Lulu says in a dreamy voice.
“Don’t you two have things to do?” I ask .
“I’m off today,” Lulu tells me. “I thought I’d come here and reorganize the stock room.”
“Clearly, you’re normal,” I tease her. “That’s everyone’s dream on their day off from their job.”
“Babe, come organize my stock room across the street. It’s a mess.”
“I can do both,” Lulu tells Tate.
“Totally normal,” I mumble.
“Hey, if I didn’t do it monthly, you wouldn’t be able to find anything back there.”
She’s not wrong. It saves me hours of work every month, and for that, I’m thankful. People put things everywhere and ignore the labels that Lulu so carefully placed on every shelf.
“You’re right,” I tell her, giving her a small smile because the last thing I want is for her to leave. “I’m sorry.”
She instantly perks up, giving me a bigger smile back. “I know you love me.”
“More than Tate,” I tell her, earning myself a pointy elbow right under my ribs.
“Jerk,” Tate says.
Lulu hops down from her stool and grabs her purse off the bar. “I’m going to get started. I’ll be listening to an audiobook, so if you need me, I won’t hear you if you call.”
“Got it,” I tell her as she waves at Tate and me.
“See you in a bit,” Tate tells her before she slurps her coffee again .
“You need to find her a man or a different hobby,” I tell my sister when Lulu disappears in the back.
“That’s no lie. She needs a man yesterday.”
“Is she seeing anyone?”
“She’s on hiatus.”
“She’s on hiatus?” I ask, because I’m confused, but that’s my normal state around the two of them.
“She said she was taking a break from men this year. I’m hoping January is her month to shine.”
“That worked out well for you when you did the same thing,” I remind her.
“Hey, Brax. Can I get a refill?” Marvin, one of our regulars, asks.
“Yeah, bud,” I tell him, moving to his empty pint glass.
“When the time is right, she’ll find the one. You and I are proof of that,” she tells me.
I glare at her as I refill Marvin’s beer. “Again, I’m proof of nothing.”
Tate grins as she finally puts her coffee cup in the sink under the bar. “Uh-huh.”
“Whatever,” I mumble as I set the beer down in front of Marvin.
“You getting married?” Marvin asks.
“No,” I say at the same time Tate says, “Eventually.”
“No, Marvin. I’m not getting married anytime soon. I went on a date last night. ”
“Good for you, kid,” Marvin says as he lifts his beer glass up to his lips.
“What happened?” Clyde, Marvin’s brother and our newest regular, asks as he slides onto the stool next to him.
“Nothing,” I tell Clyde.
“The kid went and got himself a girlfriend,” Marvin explains.
“Nice,” Clyde says, lifting the beer to me that I just set in front of him. “I hope you have better luck with women than I do.”
Marvin smacks his arm, nearly making him spill his beer. “Look at the man. Of course he has better luck than you and I ever could.”
“My life would’ve been so much better with his body,” Clyde says.
“You’d need his face too,” Marvin says to Clyde. “Because yours is not that.” Marvin points a finger at me.
“Mine’s not bad,” Clyde argues.
“It’s not good either.”
Clyde gives Marvin the middle finger.
“They’re the best,” Tate says at my side, but she’s looking at them. “Don’t be too hard on yourselves. You are two good-looking fellas.”
“Liar,” Marvin mutters against the rim of his glass.
“Told you,” Clyde says, looking satisfied with himself .
“She’s being nice, dummy,” Marvin says to Clyde.
“Well, I have to go open the shop. What time are we meeting?” she asks as she walks toward the doors.
“Meeting?”
“For our double date.”
“Damn,” I whisper. “I’ll talk to Iris and get back to you.”
“Don’t forget,” she calls out as she leaves.
Ten hours later, Tate and Iris are laughing beside the fireplace at one of our favorite bars.
“No, he didn’t.” Iris covers her mouth to dampen her laughter as her eyes brim with unshed tears.
“Yes, girl. He so did.”
Tate’s telling Iris the story of how I broke my arm when I was sixteen. I always did ridiculous things when I was younger, and it’s a miracle I somehow survived those years.
“Boys are so dumb,” Tate adds.
“Hey now,” Wylder warns playfully as he slides his arm across the back of Tate’s chair. “What fun would we be if we didn’t do crazy things sometimes?”
“Thank goodness we have girls,” she tells him.
“Because they’re the bastion of sanity.”
“Maybe not, but I understand them better.”
“Well, hopefully that one—” Wylder’s eyes dip to my sister’s stomach “—will be a boy so you can better understand how we function.”
My eyes widen as Tate’s head swivels toward Wylder with the meanest glare I’ve ever seen her give anyone, and I’ve seen some doozies. “Wylder.”
“Wait. Are you…?” I ask, not finishing the sentence.
Tate’s face softens as she looks across the table to me. “It’s not official yet. I just took the test this evening at home, and it was positive. But I have to schedule an appointment at the doctor to be sure.”
“Oh my goodness. That’s so exciting,” Iris says.
“We weren’t telling people yet,” she says, pointing that glare back at Wylder. “I thought we discussed this.”
He shrugs it off like he’s discussing the weather and not their agreement on telling everyone they’re pregnant. “It’s only your brother. It’s not a big deal.”
“But my brother has a big, big mouth, and he could tell everyone. What if I go to the doctor and they say it was a false positive, and by then, half my family is already planning my baby shower?”
“Then I’ll have to work double time to put that baby where it belongs.” Wylder smiles at my sister, looking pretty damn pleased with himself, but she isn’t finding his statement cute.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she begs me once she finally drags her angry gaze away from him .
I lift my hands. “My lips are sealed. I can keep a secret, unlike some other people in this family.”
“If you say one word, I’ll?—”
“I like my balls where they are,” I interrupt her, knowing exactly how she’ll threaten me. I’ve spent my life dealing with her.
“I was going to say I’d slurp every drink in front of you for the rest of my life.”
I wince, hating that more than a one-time kick in the nuts. “You go for the jugular.”
“Damn right,” she says with a smile.
“The whole family is going to shit a brick,” Wylder says, reaching his hand across to place it on Tate’s stomach, but she bats it away.
“Blabbermouth,” she mutters.
“Were you trying to get pregnant?” Iris asks her.
“Yes,” Tate says. “I love Maddox and Hazel, but we wanted a little one running around the house.”
“It’s a boy,” Wylder states with so much certainty, I almost believe him.
“I don’t care, as long as the baby’s healthy,” Tate says.
“Will it be your mom and dad’s first grandbaby?” Iris asks Tate.
I see a flash of pain in Tate’s eyes. I know exactly where it’s coming from too. No shade against Tilly, but Tate still has such vivid memories of our mother. There’s always been a hole left by her death that can’t be filled by anyone, even the best stepmother in the entire world.
“It would be the first,” Tate tells her. “And the entire family is going to make me crazy about it too.”
“Truth,” I say, lifting my beer bottle and tipping it in her direction. “Better you than me.”
“Do you want kids, Iris?” Tate asks her.
I continue drinking, but the question has me paying attention.
“Yes. I’d like a few someday, but I’m far off that point, because,” Iris says, wiggling her ring finger at my sister.
“Well, you have my brother now, so maybe it’ll be sooner rather than later.”
I almost cough my entire mouthful of beer across the table, but I catch most of it behind my hand. Tate has lost her mind. I can now blame her equally big mouth as Wylder’s on her pregnancy hormones.
“Well, I… Uh…” Iris stammers, looking like a deer in headlights.
“Tate, calm it, baby,” Wylder tells her.
“Look at them,” Tate says, waving her hand between Iris and me. “They’re perfect together.”
“It takes more than hotness,” Wylder tells her, and somehow, he’s become the sane one at the table.
Iris glances down before looking up at me, and I know it’s my time to act. “Let us get to know each other first before you have us married off with kids running around the yard, sis. Okay? ”
“Yeah. Sure,” Tate says. “But I like Iris a lot.”
“Thanks,” Iris says in reply. “I like you too.”
I nearly roll my eyes but keep that locked down so I don’t get another death glare from across the table. I know it’s time to change the subject.
“What are my favorite nieces doing tonight?” I ask.
“Baking cupcakes with Ma.” Tate sighs as she leans back into her chair and against Wylder’s arm. “Well, probably eating more than baking, but same thing.”
“That would be the best way to spend the evening as a kid,” Iris states, and that’s no lie.
Some of my best memories from childhood are of the three of us baking late into the night as Tilly tried new recipes and flavor combos for the store while Dad worked at the bar. I was a happy little taste tester for her creativity.
“Hell, it’s a great way to spend the evening as an adult too,” Tate says. “I should’ve become a baker instead of opening a tattoo shop.”
“You can’t bake worth shit,” I tell her, remembering the last cupcake she made that disintegrated in my palm like a pile of sand. “Tattooing is your calling.”
“I’m not that bad.”
I raise an eyebrow.
She chuffs and mutters, “Fine. I am that bad.”
“How did you get into tattooing?” Iris asks her .
“My family owns a shop in Florida, and I spent a lot of time there. I fell in love with everything about it every time I visited.”
Her visits usually involved running from someone and hiding to keep herself breathing, but she leaves that bit out. I guess, in the end, it all worked out. If that hadn’t happened, who knows what she’d be doing now, but working at Tilly’s bakery wouldn’t have been her final destination because, again…she’s awful at baking.
“Wow, I had no idea.”
“Do you have any tattoos?” Tate asks Iris.
I let my eyes roam over her exposed flesh, but I see nothing.
“One, but it’s hidden.”
I suddenly have the urge to strip her bare to see exactly where it is.
“What is it?” Tate asks.
“It’s stupid. A mistake I made when I was eighteen, but since I can’t see it every day, I sometimes forget it’s there.”
That narrows down the location, and suddenly, my goal is to find out where it is.
“I can do a cover-up if you want, or someone else at the shop can. You shouldn’t have something on your skin you don’t absolutely love. Maybe it’s time for a change,” Tate says before taking a sip of her soda, and somehow doing it so quietly, I can’t hear it .
“Maybe I will,” Iris says.
That limits my time. I want to see the before. I want to find it. I want to know all the parts of her from before I met her, and finding that tattoo is first up on my list of plans for my time with Iris.