Chapter 4 #2
Looking over the bottles on display, I reply, “Whiskey on the rocks.”
He grabs a cup and scoops ice into it. Plucking the top from the bottle, he eyes it, and then with a heavy hand, he fills the glass. “Haven’t seen you at any of the parties in some time.”
“Life got busy,” I reply, keeping the details to myself.
“I hear ya.” Rounding his shoulders, he appears to relax.
“You still partying off Dobson on Fridays?”
“Cops broke it up, and Terry doesn’t like heat on his property.” He sets the cup in front of me. “On the house.”
He probably wouldn't have made the comment if he knew this was my family’s house. “Thanks. What have you been up to?”
Chuckling, he looks around as if he doesn’t want others to hear. “Busy. Like you. Heard you wrecked a Mercedes a while back.” He’s not asking, so I’m not sure I feel the need to answer.
“What can I say? It’s been a shitty couple of years.”
Shaking his head, another low chuckle punches his chest. “Must be nice to be rich.” When his eyes meet mine again, he adds, “I’d be sitting in county jail if I’d pulled that stunt, but you—”
“What about me?”
His expression tells me all I need to know—the smarmy grin sitting arrogantly on his face. “It’s a party. Lighten up.”
I take a sip of the drink, the entertainment value of this reunion worn off, like my kindness.
He’s right, though, but it’s not just any party.
It’s a fundraising event. I won’t be the reason people leave or don’t support the cause.
One thing I’ve learned about this town is you either spark division or don’t give a damn.
I knew where he stood before, but he reinforced it.
No use hanging around where I’m not welcome.
I may be on my home turf, but I’ll give him this bar to run in peace. “Thanks for the drink.”
Stepping off to the side, I find the captivating beauty so easily in the crowd. Lark couldn’t be farther away, but she still steals the attention from every other person here.
“She’s off-limits.” The sigh that follows warrants my interest.
I glance back at Dane behind me. “Who says?”
“I do.”
Turning back, I make a concerted effort to riffle through her thoughts or read her expression at a bare minimum, as if that’s possible from this distance. I only have what she’s given me so far, and that impression didn’t appear to include dating someone. “What would she say?”
“She’d tell you to fuck off.”
I balk in laughter. She just might, but she hasn’t so far. I glance back again. “You sure about that?” When he pauses too long, I start to walk away. “That’s what I thought.”
“Don’t fuck with her. She’s been through some shit,” he says to my back, his tone caught in some form of big brother protectiveness like he just might give a shit about Lark.
Maybe he has the right. I have no fucking clue. I stop again, standing there, my back still to him with my eyes locked on Lark. When I look back this time, I set my stare on him. “Haven’t we all.” I cross the lawn to the other side of the pool.
Unfortunately, I lose the next two hours suffering through office gossip and endless questions about my plans, serving my time at the party just as I promised my dad.
I finally use my empty cup as an excuse to escape.
Just when I slip out from a group of attorneys from my dad’s office, Noah finds me, keeping step with me as I make my way toward the house.
“If you’re not going to talk to her, I will,” he says with enough confidence to lead an army into a battle and then sips a beer like he’s legally allowed to do so.
He’s not since he just turned twenty last month.
I’m not intimidated or jealous of my brothers.
The threat to talk to Lark is made in jest at best. If he noticed the attention I’m giving her, he knows not to make a move on her.
As for the drinking, it’s a ballsy move, especially at a party of my parents’ peers.
“You’re going to get your ass kicked if Dad sees you. ”
“I’m not worried.” He empties the glass, gulping it down, and then turns to me. “You headed back to town shortly?”
“Probably, why?” He gives me the look, the one that says he has some girl waiting on him. I laugh. “Did you get her name this time?”
That makes him laugh. “It was one time, and the only thing that matters is that she knows mine. Very well, I might add.”
We stop by the edge of the party before we reach the buffet. I turn to face him. “Look, Noah, you know I don’t usually say anything, but be careful. Okay?”
“Don’t worry. I will.” He starts walking away backward. “You’ve done your duty as my big brother. Are we good here?”
Bursting out laughing, I say, “You’re such a fucker.”
He plucks his shirt from his chest and then throws his arms out wide. “That’s why the ladies love me.”
I recognize his arrogance since I still struggle with it some days as well. You would have thought almost dying would have tempered it, but alas, the Westcott brothers are in their full glory here.
With my mood lifted, I head toward the table where Lark is working. Her eyes lift, and the smile she tries to restrain breaks free. “Hungry?” she asks when I approach.
“I’m heading out, but it was good spending time with you. If you ever scrape a knee or bust a lip, I’m your guy.”
“You’re my guy, huh?” She comes around the table. Touching her chin, she says, “Thank you for helping me.”
“You’re welcome.” I could linger a little longer, but I’ll let her work without me interrupting. “Maybe destiny will bring us together again.”
She tilts her head, looking me in the eyes, and almost knocks me on my ass from her beauty—string lights reflect in the green lagoons of her eyes, a gloss shining on her lips, and the sweetest dimple in the apple of her left cheek. “Maybe we’ll be lucky that way.”
After surviving on the side of that cliff, I start to think that maybe everyone is right. Maybe I am lucky to be here. If that’s the case, luck is something I have in spades.