Chapter 1
Tucker
“She’s coming for me next. I can feel it.
” After downing the last of my gin and tonic, I set the empty highball glass on the scarred wood table in front of me.
The contact is a little more aggressive than I intend, sending the remaining ice rattling around like the nerves bouncing in my gut.
“How hard do you think it would be to fake my own death?”
Trevor angles a brow where he sits across from me, nursing a bourbon neat, the tie at his neck loose and sagging. “While still coming into work every day? Because you know damn well you’ve got six months’ worth of jobs you have to finish before you can die.”
Walker shrugs, tipping back a swallow of his third beer. “I dunno. Tobias might be fine with helping manage Tuck’s department since death would take him out of the running for favorite uncle.”
“Fuck.” I scowl across the crowded bar in downtown Willow Bend. “I wasn’t even thinking about that.”
I know my niece and nephew are going to like Toby. There’s really no way around it. He’s fun and goofy and has a pool in his backyard. Plus, he got them a puppy.
But that doesn’t mean they’re gonna like him best. Especially not once they get a little older. Then they’re going to figure out Uncle Tucker’s where it’s at, and my basement will give Toby’s pool a run for its money.
“What in the hell am I going to do then?” I rake a hand through my already messy hair. “I’m not like Titus and Toby. I don’t want a wife following me around my house, picking what we watch, and deciding what we do.”
I like being single. Love it, actually. It’s the best fucking thing ever. There’s no baggage. No overhead. No risk. If I get lonely, I find a nice young lady on the same wavelength, we scratch each other’s itches, then go our separate ways.
No harm. No foul.
“Try being an asshole.” Trevor smirks. “She might still come for you, but you’ll make her job a hell of a lot harder.”
It’s not a bad plan. The issue is, I don’t think I could be an asshole if I tried. I’d feel too guilty. End up being even nicer to make up for whatever attempt I made at being a jerk.
“You know Captain Funtime can’t be mean to anybody.” Walker tips his head as he reconsiders. “Except maybe Brooke’s ex-husband.”
Just thinking about that mother fucker makes my blood boil. “I really wish she would’ve let us smear him across the floor.”
Trevor tucks his chin in a sharp nod. “Agreed.”
When that prick Matt showed up at our parents’ house thinking he could drag Brooke back to California with him, my brain shorted out. I was ready to break bones and crush egos. It takes a lot to piss me off, but once I’m there, no one is meaner than me.
Except maybe my mom.
“I still hope we can find a connection between him and the guy who plowed into me and Toby.” Walker works his jaw from side to side, staring at the bottle in his hand. “He deserves to suffer for everything he put Brooke through.”
Heavy silence settles over our table. I don’t know the full story of what Brooke went through in California, but what I do know makes me consider taking a road trip. A weekend away at a California winery.
Based on the looks on my brothers’ faces, I wouldn’t have to go alone.
“How are you boys doing?” Our waitress sidles up to the table we occupy every Friday night. Melinda serves us on nearly all of them. She’s a total sweetheart, with sons about our age. One of whom will always need constant care. “Anyone need another round?”
I look into my empty glass, weighing my options.
I could sure use another drink after working my ass off all week, but I’m fucking exhausted.
Not just physically, but from the weight of the unknown.
Not knowing what’s really going on or who’s behind all the shit that’s happened is driving me absolutely insane.
We’ve got more questions than answers right now, and every day that passes, those questions only get louder.
Who was dead Dan really? Why the hell did he want to take out our servers?
Who was the guy who hit Toby and Walker? What in the hell was he trying to accomplish?
And when is my mother going to attempt to get her grubby little hands on my personal life?
Lifting my eyes to Melinda, I give her a smile to hide my concern. She’s got enough of her own shit to worry about. “I think I’m going to call it a night.” I give her a wink. “Gotta get my beauty sleep.”
Melinda rolls her eyes. “Talk to me in thirty years about needing beauty sleep.” She turns to my brothers, brows lifting in question. “What about you two? Are you tapping out early too?”
Like me, they seem torn, but eventually decide to call it a night as well, standing from their chairs to dig out their wallets.
After settling up with Melinda, we file through the crowd, heading for the bar where we each drop a hundred dollar bill onto its worn surface.
Barbara, the owner, collects the stack, giving us the same conspiratorial nod she does every other Friday evening, letting us know the cash will anonymously find its way into the correct pocket.
At this point, Melinda likely knows who adds three hundred dollars to her tip tally every Friday, but everyone involved pretends like they don’t know what’s happening. And I like it that way. It doesn’t make shit weird, and her life is a little easier.
Walker and Trevor are a few steps ahead of me as we move toward the door, weaving our way past people out to kick off their weekend with a bang.
I used to be one of them. Friday night was my favorite part of the week. It held so much promise and potential. Offered the opportunity for companionship and excitement.
I don’t know when that changed, but it did. And it’s driving me just as crazy as what’s happening with my family and our business. Now all my Fridays kick off is a long weekend of sleepless nights and monotonous days.
I’m closing in on the exit and another night alone when someone steps in my path.
A very pretty someone with long dark hair and big brown eyes.
The woman gives me a flirtatious smile, batting her long lashes in what she likely believes is a seductive fashion. I would have agreed with her not long ago.
Not so much tonight.
“Hey.” Her voice is breathy and a little raspy. Just as sexy as her curvy frame and the slight gap between her front teeth. “Are you leaving already?”
Normally, this would be the moment all my plans for the evening change. Go from a quiet night alone to a loud night with company.
But I’m not as interested in entertaining as I used to be.
“I am.” I give her an easy smile, tipping my head toward where Walker and Trevor have paused. “Gotta make sure my brothers get home safe.”
It’s total bullshit. None of us has had enough alcohol to even be half a problem, but she doesn’t know that.
Her face falls, and I feel guilty. Bad for lying. Shitty that I can’t be for her what I’ve been for other women. It’s nothing personal. I’m sure she’s fucking great.
I’m just not… Feeling it.
“Well…” She seems to perk up a little. “Maybe next week?”
Shit. Maybe we need to find a new bar. Someplace no one knows me or my previously friendly nature.
But then who would help take care of Melinda? Make sure she can give her son what he needs?
My worry for Melinda must be the reason for what comes out of my mouth next, because that’s the only fucking explanation for the bat shit crazy claim I make. “I’m not sure I’ll be here next week. It’s my girlfriend’s birthday.”
The words have barely cleared my lips before the weight of their ramifications slams into me. Word travels like fire on gasoline in this town. By morning, every woman within a fifty-mile radius will believe I’m no longer single.
And that probably includes my mother.
Which could actually be a good thing… if she wouldn’t want evidence to back up my claim.
Even though I know a good portion of the female population in Willow Bend, I’m not sure I want to ask one of them for a favor.
Especially a favor that would blur the lines I’ve worked so hard to create in my life.
Unsurprisingly, the woman doesn’t seem to believe my lie any more than my mother would. She angles a brow skeptically. “You have a girlfriend?”
I should take the words back. Brush the comment off as a simple joke. Find some other way to let this woman down easy.
But before I can figure out how to spin my words into something less messy, Trevor’s heavy arm drops around my shoulders.
He gives the woman a grin as he fucks me over.
“It’s hard to believe, I know.” My brother smashes his hand into the side of my face, pushing my head against his shoulder.
“Baby boy had to start acting like a grown up and settle down sometime.”
I’m going to kick his ass. Right here in front of God and Melinda.
“Come on, loverboy.” Trevor uses his hold to drag me away from the woman and out the door.
Once we’re on the sidewalk outside, I shove him.
Hard.
“What the fuck?” I start to advance on him, but Walker steps between us, blocking my path.
My cousin has always been the cool head among us. The voice of reason.
The fucking pooper of parties.
“Don’t get pissed at him for backing up your bullshit.” Walker grabs the front of my shirt, fisting it tight as he pulls me toward the parking lot. “You’re the one out here making unhinged claims. Trevor was just helping you out.”
“My ass.” I jerk my head to look over my shoulder as Trevor trails behind us. “He was being a dick.”
Not shocking. Trevor is usually being a dick.
“Do you want to go home with that chick?” Trevor lifts his brows at me. “Because I can go back in there and tell her we both lied to her.”
I don’t fucking like lying to people. And I hate that he’s pointing out my lack of honesty, but no part of me wants to take that woman home with me.
No part of me wants to take any woman home with me. And that’s a problem I don’t know what to do with.
I love women. All of them. Tall ones. Short ones. Curvy ones. Skinny ones. Shy ones. Mouthy ones. I’ve always been their biggest fan. Still am.