Me: I just had those tires replaced two months ago.
Syd: *frowny face* Where?
We tend to measure our time by what project we were working on. I think back to what location we were filming at the time.
Me: Wichita Falls.
Syd: Odd.
Me: I’ll have them look at it today. You know I can get slow leaks after a nail puncture.
There are nails on and around where we film all the time. We try to be careful, but we do find them here and there. I’m not sure that I would be able to drive from Amarillo, then around town yesterday without having the air completely escape before I went out last night. I just don’t need Syd to worry. She has enough on her plate right now.
Syd: Okay.
Dammit, even without hearing her voice I know the tone. She doesn’t believe me.
Me: I’ll keep you updated
Syd: You better.
Since I know that there is no going back to bed, I head out to my kitchen. As I make my coffee, I open the JSE app and read over the alerts. I am going to have to put the auto alerts on again now that I will be in town.
Two reports grab my attention.
There was one at eleven last night by Adela Dillon who lives two streets over.
-Weirdo in the neighborhood. Male, a little heavy set.
That’s probably just Sam Vickers. He lives down the street, and I know that he does his walking late at night.
The second one is the report of Travis dropping me off by none other than Mrs. Peterson. Then there’s much speculation in the chat about it. Had we been on a date? Were we somehow seeing each other? I just want to die, but thankfully, Wyatt gets on there and ends all the speculation.
-Pay attention idiots: Nancy was at my bar. She had a flat. Travis came to take her home, along with Everly and Becca.
I smile and realize I won’t say a damned thing to Wyatt. He’s always been a little cranky. The bar owner practically raised both Mason and Everly after their parents died in a wreck. He’s like a big old grumpy Papa Bear and I owe him for stepping in. The truth is if Travis or I had commented, no one would have believed us. Wyatt posting helps dispel the rumor that we’re involved.
Thirty minutes later, I am on my second cup of coffee when my phone buzzes again.
Travis: Let me know when you get up.
Part of me wants to be a brat and not text him back. But then he texts me.
Travis: Also, sorry, but apparently that old bat Peterson got a Ring camera. It’s all over the Juniper Springs Express that I dropped you off.
Okay, dammit. That was good of him to do. He could have easily just let me find out on my own. I mean I did, but he was trying to keep me up to date—something I didn’t do.
Me: Been up an hour.
Travis: Did you call Mitch?
Ugh, I didn’t. So, I do that, telling him where the car is—which he knew thanks to everyone reporting on it—and set up for him to look over my tire.
Me: Taken care of.
Travis: Do you want me to pick you up?
I blink. Did I agree to something last night? I remember most of last night, but there are definitely some fuzzy parts.
Me: What for?
My phone starts vibrating, and Travis’ stupid, beautiful face fills my phone screen. I could pretend I didn’t hear it, but I just texted.
I sigh and pick up.
“Why are you calling? We’re Millennials, we don’t do phone calls.”
He chuckles. The deep sound sinks beneath my skin and causes me to shiver. God, that sound should be illegal. Just hearing it leaves my entire body vibrating with lust.
“Yeah, well, I got sick of the back and forth on texts. You know my fingers make it hard to text sometimes.”
Even with a big screen on his phone, he always has issues. His fingers are huge, because his hands are huge, and that, of course, makes me think of what that means. And if you didn’t get what I am talking about, it’s his dick. And, of course, that leaves me with need vibrating through my blood. I press my thighs together trying to relieve some of the pressure, but it just makes it worse.
“So, what are you talking about?”
“I was thinking we could grab breakfast.”
“Why?”
Another little chuckle, and my heart does that weird thing where it turns over in my chest. Stupid heart.
“I assumed you would need to pick up your car, and I’ve been dying for some pancakes.”
I want to say no, because I am not ready for him. But am I ever going to be ready for him? That would be a big nope. And, besides: PANCAKES.
“Okay. When do you want to go?”
“Thirty minutes give you enough time?”
“Yeah.”
“See ya then.”
We hang up and I sigh. This is a stupid idea. Going out to breakfast like old times. That’s probably part of his plan. Ease his way back into my life, get me to agree to come back to the show, then go back to being a complete asshole. I know it would be a big mistake.
My phone vibrates with an alert from the Express.
-That Lula Mays is creeping back into her house through her bedroom window.
Ms. Beverly
Jesus. Gone are the days that you could sneak around this town at night. There are issues, don’t get me wrong, but our town is damned safe. I know that Syd and I, along with Travis at times, were out at all hours. Granted, if I was a parent, I would probably feel differently. It doesn’t matter, thanks to my cousin Jon. That app is a nightmare for the teenagers of this town. If I wasn’t irritated with him, I would definitely warn him before he comes back for Estella’s birthday next month. That is if he doesn’t skip it again. He’s the only cousin I have who is like me. Having the trust money is nice, but he’s a super genius and doesn’t need it. Truth is, it isn’t on purpose. He gets lost in his work—whatever that is—and forgets about things. Like eating, his family, showering.
I glance at the clock and decide to get ready. If I’m going to deal with Travis, I need to be battle ready.
By the time Travis arrives, I’m dressed and ready for the fight. I know that this is part of his charming me back to the show. I’m not going to fall for all the usual devices he uses. He plays on my emotions, whether he realizes it or not. I hope that he doesn’t realize he does because that would make it worse. He would know exactly how much I love him. Ugh, that would be the worst thing in the world.
There’s a sharp knock at my door, and I look at myself in the mirror one last time. He’s a little early, which is unlike him, but the sooner we get this over with, the better. I need space to think and I refuse to give him an answer today. I make my way to the front door, trying to calm the nerves in my stomach. Crazy butterflies are circling, leaving me a bit unsettled. I ignore them and open my door.
He smiles that sweet smile that first captured me, and millions of women across the world love. It’s the one that shows his dimples the most. I fight the need to sigh. His dark brown eyes are untroubled.
My gaze takes in the rest of him. As usual he’s wearing a t-shirt—this time with Quinn Hawthorne’s graphic novel series Wanted. It’s old and soft, and tight. So fucking tight. My gaze dips down to the worn jeans that mold to his hips. He’s wearing a pair of old work boots. As my gaze moves back up, I note a paint stain, along with the way he shoves his hands in his pockets. I try my best to ignore the bulge behind the zipper. Let’s just say that Travis has big hands and feet, so you get the drift.
“Morning,” he says once we make eye contact again.
“We already said that on text.”
“This is in person.”
I roll my eyes and grab my purse off the hall table and step out of the door.
“Uh, are you forgetting something?”
I look at him. “What?”
“Alarm.”
I want to roll my eyes again, but I don’t. Barely. I set my alarm, then join him outside and lock the door.
“I have a feeling
this is going to be reported in the Express,” he murmurs.
I look at him and notice that his attention is across the street. I don’t have to look to know that Mrs. Peterson is watching us. I ignore her and climb into his truck. We’re on our way to the diner as I text my cousin.
Me: You might want to lay low when you come into town next week.
Jon: Why? Why are you texting me this early?
I smile. I always forget he lives in California, and he tends to work through the night.
Me: Because I live in Juniper and that fucking app has made my life a nightmare. FYI: Lula Myers might be out for blood when you come here.
“Chatting with Syd?”
I shake my head. “Jon. Just giving him a heads up about Lula Myers.”
“Oh, yeah I saw that. Thank god the Express wasn’t around when we were teenagers.”
That surprises a laugh out of me.
“What?”
“I was just thinking the same thing this morning.” I turn my head to look at him. “We did have fun though.”
“I guess it’s a good thing if you have kids though, right? I mean, we didn’t have any issues, but you never know. Juniper has grown a lot in the last ten years.”
It has. We have always had a steady stream of visitors who stop off for the springs. They—meaning all the hippies who run our town—claim that the springs have healing properties. Not sure if they can prove it, but it does feel good to sink into the warm water. I always feel better after I visit them.
We were featured on The Travel Channel a couple years ago and the tourism exploded. We are in the perfect position between San Antonio and Austin. There are always rumors about production companies checking us out for a movie location, but nothing has come of it that I know of.
“Yeah, I don’t even want to know what might be waiting for Jon when he arrives,” I say. “Seriously, he’s in some trouble, I’m sure.”
“He’s coming next week?”
I shrug. “It’s Estella’s birthday. No one really misses it.”
Not even me. I hate going because the entire family will be there, and I’m not interested in seeing my parents. That won’t be fun at all. Add in the fact my grandmother will probably bring men in for me to meet. Why is she being so weird now? She’s never pushed me to get married, but for some reason, she’s decided that I need to get married.
“What’s up?”
I glance over at him. “What?”
“There’s something you’re thinking about.”
I shrug. “Estella showed up at my house demanding I get married.”
There is a beat of silence. Then, “What the actual fuck?”
I blink and look over at him. He’s paying attention to the street, the little bit of midmorning traffic we have. There’s not much, but I can tell a lot of it is tourists. He’s frowning, angry even.
“Why are you so pissed about it?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think it’s right that she can tell you to get married.”
Rage drips off each word. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he was jealous. Can’t be. His worry is all about the show. “Uh, she suggested it. I’m not gonna get married.”
He relaxes a little bit as he pulls into Mitch’s garage.
“Why don’t you go to the diner and I’ll meet you there. You know what tourists are like this time of year.”
His fingers clench the steering wheel, and he looks out his side window. He has been acting so weird today.
“I would rather wait.”
I sigh. “Just get us a seat. It takes less than five minutes to walk from here.”
When he doesn’t immediately respond, I start to wonder what is going on in his head. He’s never been like this before, and I can’t get why he’s acting like this now.
“Okay.”
I slip out of the truck, trying to ignore his behavior. I think we’re just off. Usually we can talk for hours, but since we started having issues with the show and, well, his arrogance, it’s been rough going, especially without Syd around. She could act like a buffer between us.
It isn’t that busy and I can see my car is sitting outside still. I walk into the office and see Josh talking with Mitch. I frown as I walk forward, catching a few words that tell me Mitch found something wrong with one of the cars. I didn’t notice any police cars in the bays, but that doesn’t mean anything.
Then, Mitch stops talking in the middle of a sentence and looks at me. Josh turns around, worry etching his face.
“Something wrong?”
“Yeah, we have to talk about your car,” Josh says.
“What?”
The men share a look and I don’t like that at all. It’s one of those things that they use in movies to telegraph something bad. When they turn back to face me again, my stomach clenches. This is definitely something bad.
“We think that someone tampered with it,” Josh comments.
“Tampered?” I shake my head because my brain isn’t comprehending what he means.
“Yeah. The puncture to it wasn’t by accident, it’s too big,” Josh says as he glances at Mitch.
“Those tires are new, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m always around construction sites and there are nails laying around all the time.”
Mitch shakes his head. “The damage done to your tire isn’t from something small. Someone wanted you to have a flat tire.”
Something cold congeals in my stomach, and I have to swallow the urge to freak out. Like FREAK ALL THE WAY OUT. I don’t like the way they are both acting.
“Josh, just spit it out.”
He sighs. “Do you think there is anyone who would want to hurt you?”
I blink. “Well, no not really. Why?”
“It might be nothing. It might be some random asshole decided to screw with a random car in the parking lot.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I’m gonna talk to Wyatt and then Mystical Pizza across the street. I think they both have cameras. If anything, we can prove it was just random.”
But even as he says it, I get a really bad feeling down in my gut.
“Hey, don’t worry. I bet it’s nothing, like I said. Just, check back in with me later.”
“Also, I’m gonna have to order your tire. Do you need a loaner?” Mitch asks.
I shake my head. “Travis can drop me back off at home. I’m actually on my way to the diner to meet him, so I’ll get out of your hair.”
Both men nod and Josh even offers me a reassuring smile. It doesn’t reassure me though. As I walk to the diner, I think over last night, trying to think if there was anything that happened that was out of the ordinary. I want to push the thoughts away, thinking about anyone who might have it in for me. But the truth is, since our little town has gotten more and more popular as a tourist destination, this kind of crap has been happening more and more.
With a sigh, I push away my worries for now because I have a big, stupid cohost to deal with. Right now, that’s all the trouble I can handle.
Chapter Ten
Travis
As I wait for Nancy, I go over everything that kept me up all last night. Syd had told me to think about my behavior and when I did, it shamed me. I mean, I knew I was being an ass, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself. But even that’s a lie, because my sister taught me better than that.
See, I got so wrapped up in myself, the way the show made me a star, that I forgot all about my relationship with Nancy. We had come together to do this show, old friends who loved to flip houses, and we became instant hits. It wasn’t hard to understand why people were drawn to our show. We have fun and people enjoy our humor.
I guess that should be had fun. The last few months have been bad. And as I thought about it, I realized that if my sister worked with someone who behaved like I did, I would want her to quit.
When did I become that asshole?
I think about the fights, about the way I talked down to her and the way I
sided with Garrett, our producer, every time he suggested something stupid. I have spent so many years trying to put space between us that I lost control this year. That’s on me. We’ve always argued but this season, well, I’m lucky Nancy has agreed to talk to me at all.
By the time I start my second cup of coffee, my nerves are starting to get to me. I roll my shoulders trying to work out the kinks in my back. That glorified cot I slept on last night was not kind to my back.
My hands are sweaty, and it has nothing to do with the heat. I haven’t been this nervous in a long time. Even thinking about what I could lose thanks to my stupidity has my palms sweating. Truth is, I would hate for the show to go under. People would lose their jobs, people who depend on me. Losing my friendship with Nancy…a hundred times worse. In the end, I’m not sure Syd wouldn’t pick her best friend over me, seeing how this is all my fault. My infatuation with Nancy is the reason I’ve been a total ass. I need to get that in check before we start filming again. If we start filming again.
Evil Sis: You will not fuck this up.
Me: I love you too.
Evil Sis: Suck it.
Evil Sis: But seriously.
Me: I am going to try my damnedest.
Evil Sis: Atta boy. What are you doing?
Me: Having sex.
Evil sis: *JimCarrey Gross Gif*
Evil sis: Also, it must not be that good if you’re texting with me. Unless that’s what you need, and now I grossed myself out.
I sigh. I love Syd but she is always like this. Threatens me. Grosses me out. Embarrasses me.
Me: I’m at Munchies waiting on Nancy. We’re having breakfast.
The bell tinkles and I look up. The moment my gaze lands on Nancy, my entire body sizzles. Since the moment I knew what went on between men and women, I’ve been infatuated with my sister’s best friend. It’s hard not to be. She has one of those personalities that call to me. Funny as hell, but sassy as fuck. She has her dark brown hair up in a messy bun that makes me yearn to slip my fingers through it to dislodge it. I love when she wears her hair down, letting all her silky curls drip over her shoulders.
Love to Hate You: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romantic Comedy (The Fillmores Book 2) Page 9
