Chapter 14
ELLIOTT
August
I have a surprise for you tonight
Three weeks ago, our newest hire quit unexpectedly to go walkabout in Australia, which means August and I have been busting our asses to cover his shifts at work and hire folks to take his place.
With today being a holiday, it’s going to be insane in the bar, but our GM assured us she and the rest of the staff could handle things.
I’m looking forward to getting way too drunk and blowing off some steam.
Usually, I’d be trudging up the stairs to my place but today, I’m running. The sooner I shower, the sooner I can head into town and start celebrating the new year.
Loren waves at me from where she digs through that purse of hers, a bottle of wine in a brown paper bag at her feet.
“Searching for buried treasure in there?”
“Ha-ha. I wish. I can never find my damn keys in this thing.”
“Maybe you should clean it out.”
Her eyes narrow as she shoves a chestnut curl from her forehead back into the chaos behind her ear. “Oh, really? You think so? How often do you clean your purse, Elliott?”
She has me there.
She lets out this little squeal of delight which I assume means she found them.
I drag my own keys from my pocket. “You have any big plans for tonight?”
“Josh is in California for work, so I’m staying in with this.” She swipes the bottle from the ground and gives it a hearty shake.
Doesn’t seem fair to me.
Then again, maybe she doesn’t have many friends around town. The only person I’ve seen at her place is her dick of a boyfriend.
The thought of Loren being all alone on New Year’s Eve makes me sad. It’s tough trying to meet people when you’re working all the time. “You could come into the city with us.”
Her lips flatten as she twirls her keys around her finger, the plethora of keychains clanging against one another. “I distinctly remember hearing you say that you hate the city.”
Did I say that? Probably.
I really do hate the city. More specifically: Broadway. Bars on both sides of the street blaring the same fucking songs by different bands dreaming of making it “big” someday. Playing for tips and cheap beer. Tourists in cowboy boots and sequins.
Talk about hell.
It’s worst in the summer. Not only is it busier, but it’s sweatier too. Because who doesn’t want to smell redneck BO and spilled whiskey for hours on end?
But tonight is New Year’s Eve and the fireworks in the city are fucking beautiful. Last New Year’s, I stayed at the bar and got a little too drunk after we closed. Then my thumbs thought it’d be a great idea to send a text to my ex.
You can imagine how well that went down.
I shrug and say, “I make an exception for fireworks.”
She shifts her weight from one heeled foot to the other, chewing on her lip. “Who else is going?”
“Just me and my cousin August. We’re meeting a few women he knows.” He called them a “good time.”
For some reason, the idea of fucking some stranger tonight doesn’t appeal to me.
“I don’t know.” She looks so conflicted, I can imagine her on an actual fence, swinging her long legs back and forth, glancing from one side to the other, unruly hair blowing in the breeze.
“Suit yourself.” If a woman doesn’t want to do something, I’ve learned not to pressure her because it almost always comes back to bite me in the ass.
The invitation has been extended. Short of throwing my neighbor over my shoulder and carrying her down to my truck, there’s not much more I can do. “If you ever make up your mind and want join us, we’re leaving at seven thirty.”
My hair falls into my eyes as I let the shower beat me clean. There’s no point rushing since August will be running late. He wouldn’t be on time if he were made of clocks.
When I step out of my apartment at exactly seven thirty, I consider knocking on Loren’s door one last time to see if she’s coming but ultimately decide against it.
If she wanted to tag along, she’d already be out here.
Something that feels a lot like disappointment fills my chest, but I shove that shit right down with every other unpleasant emotion and start for the stairs.
August waves up at me, looking ridiculous in a pink and black button down and a pair of black cowboy boots.
I love the guy, but his outfits are getting more absurd by the week. A couple days ago, he showed up to dinner in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top with one of those built-in bras.
Apparently, he lost some bet with his sister and now he has to wear whatever she picks out for him. Not sure how long that’s going to last. Hopefully not long—for both our sakes.
I’m about to take the first step when my name echoes through the hollow stairwell. Loren stands outside her door, a shimmery black skirt skimming her thighs and an unsure smile on her lips.
“Got room for one more?”
Damn, those legs of hers look even longer than they normally do.
It really is too bad that she has a boyfriend.
“We do, but you might want to change into flats.” As good as those heels look, I’ve been around enough women in my life to know what’s bound to happen in about an hour.
“I feel like your granny shoes would be more practical.”
“Aren’t you hilarious? Lucky for me, these heels are just as comfortable.”
Women always say that, and yet ninety-nine percent of the time, I end up having to carry at least one of them on my back by the end of the night.
Still, it’s not my job to convince her, so I shrug and say, “Suit yourself.”
Surprisingly enough, she keeps pace with me on the way down the stairs.
The moment August sees Loren, his gaze drops straight to her legs encased in black hose with the thinnest black line running down the back.
He’ll want to put a stop to that before we get to the city. I’m not dealing with his disappointment at the end of the night when she doesn’t fall madly in love with him.
August has a very fragile ego.
“I need to grab something from my car really quick. I’ll be back in a sec.” Loren saunters off to collect heaven knows what. All I know is that she needs to bend over to get it. You can’t see anything, but if you took a step to the right, then—
“Holy shit.” A rush of breath whistles through August’s teeth.
He knows I hate it when he does that, which is probably why he did it in the first place. I introduce my elbow to his stomach. “Not a chance, dipshit. She has a boyfriend.”
“I can look, can’t I?”
“At her face and that’s all.” Definitely not at her chest in that tight black sweater. That would be rude. So rude.
Loren’s door snaps shut, and the lights flash when she locks it. She comes over with a smile on her face, seeming pretty damn happy about joining us.
I think I might be a little bit happy too.
I clap August on the back of the neck, giving him a little squeeze for good measure. “Loren, this asshole is my cousin, August. August, Loren Piper.”
He must know what’s good for him, because he sticks out his hand like this is some sort of business meeting. “Pleasure.”
Her hand slips into his a little too quickly. “Nice to meet you, August. I really like your shirt.”
“Why, thank you, Loren.”
The compliment leaves him smiling way too widely. Guess he didn’t recognize the sarcasm in her tone.
Before I get a chance, he opens the front passenger door for her.
I can feel my eyes narrow. “Behave,” I mutter under my breath.
His answering smirk makes me wonder if this was a terrible idea. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Loren crosses then uncrosses her legs like she can’t seem to get comfortable in the front seat. Each time she does it, her skirt rides a little higher. Not that I’m looking. That would be incredibly dangerous considering I’m doing seventy miles an hour on the highway.
Closing the vent on her side, she settles back against the headrest before glancing at me, then at the irritating asshole breathing down my neck. “So, you two are cousins?”
August sticks his head farther between the two seats and pushes my arm away so he can rest his elbows on the center console. “Practically brothers. Born a month apart and grew up right next door to each other.”
“Our Moms are sisters,” I add, feeling a bit like the third wheel.
August squeezes his shoulders through the gap, his big head cutting off my line of sight entirely. “Speaking of sisters, do you have any, Loren?”
Loren’s curls sway when she shakes her head. “Only child, I’m afraid.”
Just like me.
Wonder if her parents drive her crazy too.
My mom has already called me five times today asking me to do this, that, and the other.
The giant wooden Christmas tree my grandma painted needs brought in from the front yard and returned to the attic.
She bought a new mirror that needs hung up in the “good” living room.
She found a new podcast she thinks I’ll like.
She made homemade chili and froze two quarts along with a few cornbread muffins.
Granted, I didn’t mind that last call quite as much.
“Cousins?” August tries again.
Since I can’t see her face because of August’s big, stupid head, I find myself watching the way Loren’s black-tipped fingers toy with the gold zipper on her purse. “A few but they’re like twenty years older than me.”
August huffs a disappointed sigh. “That’s too bad.”
Enough is enough. “You know what’d be too bad? If I had to slam on the brakes and watch your head fly through the windshield. Sit your ass back and put on your damn seatbelt.”
I’m not above pulling over and making him walk.
Although he grumbles, August does as I ask.
That’s better.
At least now I can see our guest. She looks beautiful tonight—not that I’m going to say that out loud and make it awkward for the whole damn night.
There’s no rule against thinking it, is there?
August’s bony finger jabs into my shoulder. “It’s going to be too busy downtown. Park on the East side. We can walk across the bridge.”
“I know where to park.”
“You think you know, but I can guarantee that you don’t.”
God, I hate him.
Loren unzips her purse, and it really shouldn’t be sexy, but watching those fingers drag down that zipper makes me think of the zipper on my jeans that suddenly feel a lot tighter than they were a few seconds ago.
“I have my parking pass,” she says, withdrawing a red hanging pass. “My office is near the Gulch. Does that help?”
I didn’t realize she worked all the way in the city. That drive is a bitch with traffic. Back when I worked in finance, I used to make it every day.
One of the many things I don’t miss from my stint in corporate America.
“That’s great. Thanks.” It’ll be a bit of a walk downtown, but at least we don’t have to park across the river.
Her arm brushes mine when she leans forward to slip the pass onto my dashboard.
It should be an innocuous touch but even a graze has me firing on all cylinders.
Time to distract myself before I start getting ideas that have no place in my head.
When I ask what she does, she says she’s a temp at an advertising agency. I don’t know many people working as temps who like their jobs, but from the genuine smile on her cotton-candy lips, she appears to be the exception.
I think I might even like her job too when I find out the parking lot is right at the top of the hill, behind the museum.
Loren’s hips sway as she walks, those sequins catching the streetlights like a disco ball.
I don’t normally pay too much attention to what I throw on, but being next to her makes me feel underdressed.
If I’d known beforehand that she was going to come, I would’ve worn a button down instead of my plain black henley.
Not that you can see it under my jacket.
August knocks my hip with his, giving me a knowing glance.
Looks like I got caught doing the one thing I told him not to do. Not that I’ll ever admit it. “What?”
“You know what,” he mutters under his breath so Loren doesn’t overhear.
“Mind your own damn business.”
He grins. “But minding yours is so much more fun.”