Chapter 2
JINX
Ty: Dude, where the hell are you?
The text lights up my cell screen just as I pull it from my pocket to check the time.
Nine o’clock.
Shit.
So much for the early day I promised myself and my buddies.
Me: Unloading at the storage yard. Be there in ten.
I hit send and tuck the phone away. Then I get to work unhitching the lawn equipment trailer from my truck.
We’re already operating at full bore, and with the summer just beginning, we’re adding additional jobs every day. It’s a good problem to have. I’m good at what I do, and I put in the extra time because I hate disappointing people.
Too bad the person I worry about disappointing the most hasn’t noticed all the late nights I’ve been putting in.
Quit being a fucking baby, Enders. You’re twenty-six, not twelve.
Giving myself a mental kick, I get the trailer situated in the landscaping garage and hop back into my truck, then head for the storage yard gate.
Though all us Enders kids were raised on big equipment and good ole Wisconsin dirt, Aiden, my oldest brother, bucked family tradition entirely by going into law enforcement, and our baby sister, Amelia, went her own way, too, with a career in graphic design. No one was the least bit surprised when Jesse and I stuck to our roots in Enders Excavating. That blue-collar blood runs deep, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Jesse took over the family excavation company when he was just twenty-two. He oversees the bigger earth-moving projects, but I manage the landscaping part of the business. Lawn care, trees, gardens, you name it. If it’s a residential project, then it’s mine, and it’s been that way since I was twenty years old. I may not have a financial stake in the company, but I take my work and my family’s reputation seriously.
Hence the reason I’m late meeting up with Ty and Connor for the beers I promised.
I’ve just locked the gate and climbed back into my truck when my phone chimes with another text.
Ty: Saved you a seat, but if you don’t hurry the fuck up, I’m giving it to Macy.
The hell he is.
Cranking the music, I hit the gas pedal. Five minutes later, The Creek comes into view. Between the weekend visitors and the locals here for the Friday night fish fry, the parking lot and the street in front of the pub are packed, but I get lucky and steal a spot near the front when another vehicle backs out.
When I finally step inside the bar, Ty hollers “about damn time” above the crowd and the country music playing on the jukebox.
As expected, the place has standing room only, but I’m a big guy, and I’m not afraid to shoulder my way through the patrons to reach my destination.
“Some people gotta work around here,” I tell him when we clasp hands in a way that’s more bro-shake than handshake.
Ty Crawford is a deputy with the Pine County Sheriff’s Office and one of my oldest friends. We see each other more often in church than we do anywhere else because life is so damn busy. Of course, I’m rarely in church, much to my mother’s dismay, so it’s been months since I’ve seen him anywhere other than in his cruiser as he’s headed through town.
“I thought you were clocking out a couple of hours ago.” Connor hands me a bottle of beer. “Or were you making house calls again?” He uses air-quotes around the words and hits me with a smirk.
Connor DeLuca is my right-hand man at EE. Since I usually make him hang it up at five o’clock, he likes to give me shit about the hours I work and what I’m getting up to once he’s gone home. I only wish it was as nefarious as he makes it sound.
Desperate for a little relaxation, I roll my shoulders and tip back a hefty swig of the ice-cold beer. It goes down way too easy, but I haven’t eaten since I downed a slice of gas station pizza at lunch, so tonight, this will be my one and only drink. That, and we’d all be pushing the boundaries of the law if we had too much fun. None of us wants to put Ty in that position.
We spend the next forty-five minutes catching up on everything from work to the Brewers and the upcoming Packers season.
When a hoot of feminine laughter in the game area snags my attention, I lift my chin toward the back of the bar where a group of rowdy guys plays beer pong with a couple of local women. “What’s that all about?”
Ty follows my gaze to Crystal, one of my cousin Bobbie Jean’s friends, just as she slaps some dude’s ass for nailing his round. “Sadie said the PTA met here earlier. Those two stuck around.”
“You think I should cut them off?” Sadie, the bartender, saunters over, chewing her bottom lip.
“Tony would probably appreciate that.” Crystal’s husband is a chill guy, but his wife playing grab-ass with some frat boy might cross the line.
“She called him an hour ago to tell him she made some new friends. He told her to live it up, but keep her pants on, and that he’d be by at ten to pick her up.”
I snort and glance at my watch. Only fifteen minutes to go. “On second thought, let her have fun.”
“It’s the other one I’m worried about, anyway.” Sadie tips her head to the woman huddled close to a tall, lanky guy in the far corner of the game area. She has her back to the rest of the bar, but her wavy auburn hair and curvy body in those snug-as-hell jeans are familiar.
“Who is it?” I ask, leaning back and bringing my beer to my lips.
“Rachel Perry,” Ty answers.
I lurch forward and damn near choke on my drink. “No shit.”
“Yup.” Sadie pops her lips.
Craig Perry, her soon-to-be ex-husband, is Jesse’s lead man on the big earth-moving jobs. He does decent work, but I’ve never been a fan of the guy. Even before the rumors about him and Rachel—and the rumors about him and Cady—started going around.
“She comes in with the kids sometimes,” Sadie adds. “But I’ve never seen her drink until tonight.”
I haven’t, either. Not that our paths cross often. Shit, I think the last time I saw her was when she spilled coffee all over the EE lobby.
“I obviously can’t let her drive, and Bren isn’t answering his phone.”
“Saw his truck at Aiden’s on my way through town. They’re probably throwing back a few beers.” Bren is the county sheriff and self-appointed Cole Creek cabbie. He’s also my oldest brother’s best friend.
“Ugh.” Sadie sighs, her shoulders sinking. “Any chance either of you would do it?”
“Do what?” I ask at the same time Ty says, “No way in hell.”
“Drive her home.” She bats her lashes.
I hold up my empty beer bottle. “Probably not a good idea.”
“You could drink a six-pack and not even catch a buzz, Jinx. Come on. Do me a favor. I don’t want to call Craig and ruin her fun.”
A burst of anger hits me at the sound of his name. Fuck that. He’s the last person she needs showing up tonight.
I give a heavy sigh and take Rachel in again. The guy she’s with is draped over her like a wet fucking noodle. His eyes are clear and his feet are steady, like he isn’t drunk at all. In fact, he looks like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and that doesn’t sit well. I don’t know Rachel well, but we look after our own in Cole Creek, and I can’t in good conscience stand back and let this loser take advantage.
“She eat yet?” I ask Sadie.
She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Not that I saw.”
Great. “Can you throw on a couple of burgers?”
Sadie cocks a brow. “The kitchen closes in ten minutes, you asshole.”
“You want me to drive her home or not?”
With that, she pastes on a fake-ass smile. “In that case, I’ll throw in an order of fries. On the house.”
I roll my eyes as she jots down the order.
Once she’s headed back to the kitchen, I shift in my seat so I can keep an eye on the rowdy group in the back. Damn, I could use another beer.
Just a few minutes into the show, Rachel shakes herself loose and gets ready for her turn at the pong table. The wet noodle moves in behind her, grips her hips, and whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh… and it pisses me off.
No way in hell is he getting what he thinks he is tonight.
If she goes home with him, she’ll hate herself. And something tells me she’s already been hard enough on herself because of Craig.
With a sigh, I push off the barstool and make my way over just as she takes her first shot at the pong cups. She misses terribly, and her face twists with disappointment. But she quickly regains her focus, and with her expression pinched in concentration, she takes her second shot. This time, she easily makes it into one of the cups. “Yes!” She throws her arms in the air.
The guy behind her scoops her up and spins her around.
And I grind my molars.
“I should kiss you for that,” the guy says.
Before he gets the chance to put his mouth on hers, I clear my throat. “Nice shot, Rach. Looks like you’re showing these young bucks how it’s done.”
Every guy in the group turns his attention to me. Rachel narrows her eyes, probably assuming that since I work with Craig, I’m going to blabber to him. Then she blows a raspberry.
“Yeah, right. More like they’re schooling me.” She gives the guy who can’t keep his hands off her a saucy grin. “Aren’t you, handsome?”
The asshole grins right back, and this time, he dips in, going for that kiss.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I take two big steps forward and tug her from his grasp. I only meant to stop the kiss, but somehow, she ends up behind me, and I end up nose to nose with the young prick.
“What the hell, Jinx?” Rachel scoffs, trying to shove her way around me.
“She’s drunk, and you know it,” I grit out, keeping my grip on her firm but not too hard.
“What the fuck do you care?” The asshole puffs out his scrawny chest. “Are you her babysitter?”
“He’s my friend’s husband,” Rachel interjects, slurring her words. “I mean, my husband’s friend. Ex-husband.”
“I’m her friend, too, and I promise that whatever you thought was gonna happen here tonight ain’t. Not on my watch.”
The punk’s upper lip curls, and I brace myself for a fist.
One of his friends steps between us before that happens. “She ain’t worth it, man. Let it go.”
Behind me, Rachel slumps. I release her and glance over my shoulder to check on her, just in time to see her frustrated expression melt into defeat. With that small change, the energy around her shifts, and the temporary high she’s been riding deflates like I just stomped on her balloon.
That’s all right. I’d rather she hate me now than hate herself in the morning.
“Come on, Rach.” I gently reach for her, and to my surprise, she doesn’t balk.
In fact, she doesn’t say a single word as she gathers her purse and walks with me toward the bar.
We’re just approaching when Sadie exits the kitchen with a plastic bag in hand. “Perfect timing.” Her gaze shifts from me to Rachel and back again. “Thank you,” she mouths.
I nod and throw some cash onto the bar for the food. “Her car is okay here tonight?”
“Of course. Just lock it up.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Rachel slurs as soon as we step outside. Thank god she isn’t wearing heels, or she’d probably break an ankle with the way she’s swaying and sidestepping. “I wasn’t going to do anything stupid.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” My guess is she’s already going to have regrets, but what do I know?
When I hit the fob on my key ring and my headlights illuminate up ahead, she coos. “Ooh, did you get a new truck?”
“Sure did. Just a few months old.”
She steps clumsily off the curb, and I snag her elbow just before she goes down.
“I like it,” she husks, awkwardly pushing her hair from her face. With a hum, she reaches out and strokes her fingers along the paint. “Are you going to be my knight in shiny white armor tonight, Jinx?”
Not in the way you think, babe.
Still holding her arm, I stow the bag of takeout in the back seat, then I open the passenger door.
“Let me help you up.” I gently grip her waist from behind, ready to bypass the chrome running boards and lift her onto the seat. But she turns before I get the chance.
“Is it true?” She lowers her lashes over her hazy copper eyes as she traces a fingertip down the center of my chest. “That men with big trucks are overcompensating?”
I laugh lowly. “Not in my case.”
“That’s what I thought.” She bites the corner of her lip and smashes her tits against my chest.
Before I can stop her, she throws her arms around my neck and plants a fat kiss on my mouth.
“Whoa!” Still gripping her waist, I hold her at arm’s length. “Whatcha doing, gorgeous?”
A satisfied smile flickers across her lips as she licks them. “Mmm, you taste good.”
Jesus Christ.
“I think it’s time to get you home.” Before she can pull another stunt, I lift her onto the seat and buckle her in. “You good?”
She nods with that wistful look still in her eyes. “So good.”
Sadie owes me a fuck of a lot more than fries for this.