by Josie Kerr
Thankfully, they quickly moved on to an actual business discussion, so Jason didn’t have to put his size 12 steel-toed boot up anyone’s ass. He soon demonstrated that he knew what he was talking about, and the committee members reluctantly signed off on both the schedule and the modified list of changes. Jason saw Meghan visibly relax once Knox agreed, at least until he added a caveat.
“The actual president of the standards committee of the Cabbagetown Eats event has final approval. Geoffrey should be here any minute.” Knox smiled blandly at them both, and all sense of triumph immediately faded.
The front door opened, and the slickest sumbitch Jason had ever seen stepped across the Foley’s threshold. Carefully styled black hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and wearing a suit and shoes that probably cost more than Jason’s SUV, the newest member of the meeting strode over to the table. Jason sneaked a glance at Meghan, just to gauge her reaction to this piece of work, but instead of the sardonic expression he expected, all the color had drained from her pretty face.
“G-Geoffrey?” she stammered.
“Hi, Meghan. Long time no see,” the man said.
Jason’s gaze ping-ponged between the two of them, and he was somewhat relieved to see a similar reaction from the other meeting participants.
“Well, I was going to introduce you to Geoffrey Crabtree, but it looks like you two already know each other,” Chuck Knox said with too-loud enthusiasm.
Meghan cleared her throat. “Yeah. Um, yes, we do.”
Geoffrey Crabtree jerked his chin up. “Right. We haven’t seen each other since the divorce.”
Motherfuck.
☆☆☆
Meghan couldn’t decide if she was going to scream or vomit. She hadn’t seen Geoffrey Crabtree in thirteen years, not since her father had rescued her in the middle of the night, when she’d literally fled with the clothes on her back and nothing else.
His face still periodically made its way into her nightmares. His physical proximity took her horror to the next level. Of course, he was just standing in the middle of the pub looking around, seemingly almost bored, but Meghan knew he was making note of every tiny detail. Suddenly, the exclusion of Foley’s Public House from the Cabbagetown Eats event made sense.
Still reeling from the potential impact her ex-husband’s appearance could wreak, both professionally and personally, it took Knox’s calling her name twice to rouse her from her musings.
“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry—I was just thinking . . .” Meghan let her voice trail off because she couldn’t begin to describe all the thoughts that tumbled through her head.
Knox cleared his throat. “I was saying that I’ll be excusing myself from the meeting, so your contractor can discuss the needed changes with Geoffrey here,” he said as he handed over Jason’s meticulously detailed response to the spec sheet.
“My contractor?” Meghan frowned. Who— Oh Jaysus. “Oh, Mr. Richards has—”
Geoffrey snatched the papers from Knox and gave them a cursory once-over as he interrupted Meghan. “I can meet with you at two, Mister . . . I didn’t catch your name.”
“Jason Richards.” The words were flat and emotionless and told Meghan that she was about to see a very different side of her usually funny, warm, friendly Marine. “Two does not work for me.”
Geoffrey waved him off. “Then I can just meet with Meghan. You don’t have to be there.”
Meghan was about to protest when Jason interjected. “I know we need to get this taken care of—after all, it’s a very aggressive schedule—but I want to make sure Miss Sullivan is there as well so there’s no chance of miscommunication. I find that it’s imperative for all the parties to be on the same page. Don’t you agree, Mr. Crabtree?”
Meghan flinched at Jason’s formal address, but she supposed it was warranted since she’d done the same only moments ago.
Geoffrey seemed to be carefully considering his response. “Fine,” Geoffrey said after a long pause. “Schedule a meeting with my secretary, the sooner the better, as you said.” He turned to Meghan, perusing her from head to toe. “I look forward to being with you again, Meghan. It’s been too long.”
To Meghan’s horror, Geoffrey reached for her hand, but thankfully Jason put himself between her and her ex-husband—not obtrusively, but just aggressively enough to communicate in no uncertain terms that Geoffrey was not going to touch her, period. She’d never been more grateful for the man’s possessive bossiness than she was today.
Geoffrey dropped his hand but never took his eyes off of Meghan.
“Mr. Richards, you know what to do next,” Geoffrey proclaimed and, without saying anything else, turned and left Foley’s Public House.
“Well, small world,” Knox said with a nervous chuckle. Meghan could see a sheen of sweat coating his skin, and for a moment, she felt sorry for him. Knowing what she did of Geoffrey, she didn’t doubt that he terrorized Charles-call-me-Chuck Knox, and absolutely no one deserved that. “Yep, it looks like everything’s ready to move ahead. Miss Sullivan, please don’t hesitate to call me, though I think Geoffrey can answer any questions that may arise.” He clapped his hands together. “I’ll let you two get back to work.” With that, Knox shook Meghan’s hand first, and then Jason’s, then scurried out of the pub, leaving Meghan and Jason alone.
“Whoa! That was intense!”
Okay, not quite alone. Thank God for small blessings in the form of hyperactive bartenders. Ronnie, whose demeanor would normally be described as gleefully clueless, seemed to have crossed over to utter shock before he collapsed in laughter.
“You should have seen your face when Jason called you ‘Miss Sullivan.’ Man, that was classic!” He continued to chortle and comment under his breath as he took a rack of glasses to the back.
Meghan felt Jason’s gaze burning a hole in the side of her head, but she couldn’t look at him, not yet. She had to plan how she was going to address this whole Geoffrey situation, and that was going to take some time.
Jason cleared his throat. “So, uh, you were married before?”
Aaand yeah. She wasn’t going to get it.
Chapter 11
Jason was trying so hard to not be a jealous, overprotective cock sprocket, but he knew it was just a matter of time before his inner alphahole was going to break loose. Just seeing the way Meghan totally shut down when she saw that dipshit’s face made Jason see red. And her terrified look when that shitfuck suggested they meet alone? Yeah, not fucking likely. That was never going to happen.
“So? You gonna answer me?” he barked and immediately regretted it. The hot-as-hell, confident, sassy woman he’d been with this morning was nowhere to be seen. Meghan just looked . . . tired, and he hoped he hadn’t played a part in that transformation.
“Jason, it was a long time ago. Like, a long time ago.” Meghan rubbed at her eyes, heedless of the smudging of her makeup. Now she looked like Jessica Rabbit’s raccoon cousin, which wasn’t a bad thing. “It was really more of a breakup with paperwork as opposed to a proper marriage.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She scoffed at him. “Of course you don’t, because you know every aspect of my life before C and Junior brought you in here after you started working on the fight club.”
Her recall of that first visit brought him up short. Of course, he’d remembered the first moment he set eyes on Meghan—she was a knockout—but even more, he’d remembered how efficiently she’d handled some drunks and how afterward, when he’d complimented her, she’d given him a go-to-hell look. Aw yeah.
Okay, he obviously needed to start this conversation over again. “Meghan.”
“What?” With her eyes narrowed at him, she looked a little more like herself.
“I’m sorry. Of course I don’t know everything in your past. Why should I? It’s not like we’re—shit.”
“Not like we’re what?” A raven-black eyebrow arched up.
“Umm . . .”
“That’s right, Mister Richards. We aren’
t ‘umm-ing,’ especially since you’ve officially been introduced as my contractor.”
“Meghan, darlin’, I didn’t—”
“Bup!” She snapped her fingers together, implying he should do that with his lips, which was probably not a bad idea considering he’d seemed to be putting his big foot in his fat mouth every time he opened it.
“Meg—”
“No. All you need to know is that I was married to Geoffrey Crabtree when I was stupid enough to believe in Prince Charmings and happily ever afters. He cured me of those particular fantasies very quickly, and that’s all I’m going to say about him. Understand?”
Jason grunted. He understood, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still want to know or that he’d not pursue other venues to find out more information—after all, what good was having a brother who was a private investigator if you couldn’t have him dig up dirt about someone’s ex? Not that he’d ever done that before.
“And don’t you dare ask that brother of yours to go snooping around, Jason Richards. If you do that, I will be so pissed at you that I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”
“You’ll do what?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“I’m not sure, but you won’t like it.”
Jason grunted. “Fine.”
“Fine.” Meghan played with the clasp on her father’s watch. “So. What now?”
That was a good question. Jason took a deep breath to center himself and get his head back into professional contractor mode. He looked at his watch and was shocked at the amount of time that had passed.
“Well, crap on a cracker. I wasn’t lying about two not working for me. I have to go see a woman about converting a detached garage into a ‘she shed.’ ”
“What the hell is a ‘she shed’?”
“It’s like a man cave but girly. I predict a Pinterest nightmare, but the lady’s paying me.” He shrugged.
Meghan rolled her eyes. “Shoot me if I ever want something like that.”
“Done.” Jason grinned at her. “Though, I can picture you having a little gothy hideaway in a vintage Airstream or something.” And just like that, his mind went straight to the gutter.
“ ‘If this van is a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’,” Meghan quipped, proving that they were still on the same sexy wavelength.
Damn.
He cleared his throat. Determined to retain some sense of professional decorum, Jason forced himself to coordinate schedules with Meghan and set up some mutually convenient times to meet with that fuckwad Crabtree. After that, he said goodbye and headed out to his truck, where the first person he called was his brother.
What Meghan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right?
Chapter 12
“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of news, Jason.” Jack, Jason’s father, helped himself to two deviled eggs.
Jason huffed a breath and glared at Ryan, who grinned through a mouthful of fried chicken.
“Yeah, I wanna know about all the stuff you’re doing to Foley’s. It sounds like an insane amount of work to do in the time frame.” Johnny, the eldest Richards brother, passed the eggs to the next brother.
Jason, desperate to avoid this particular strand of conversation, attempted to divert attention somewhere else. “Johnny, you feeling all right? I’ve never known you to pass on deviled eggs.”
Johnny grunted. “Had my physical and my cholesterol wasn’t where it needed to be. I’m trying to eat healthier.” He looked mournfully at the plate of eggs.
“Oh, booty-hooty-hoo. Maybe if you give up the donuts, copper, you could eat an egg or five.” Darren, the next eldest brother, winked and took three eggs. “I’ll take your portion so you don’t have to look at ’em.”
He was grabbing for a fourth egg when Kyle, the middle Richards sibling, snatched it away. “Don’t be a pig, Darren.”
“Don’t be a buttmunch, Kyle.”
“Good God A’mighty,” Jason muttered.
“If you don’t want to talk about Foley’s, you can clue us in about this ex-husband of Meghan’s. I know you’ve gotten the scoop from Kyle.”
“Dammit, Kyle!” Jason dropped his fork onto the plate and threw his hands in the air. “Under what part of ‘be discreet’ does telling the damn family about Meghan’s ex fall?”
“I needed to cross-reference some things with Darren and Johnny, and I figured Ryan already knew, so . . .” Kyle shrugged. “Oops?”
“Excuse me!” Jason cringed when Ashley, the sole female sibling, butted in. “Repairs? Ex-husbands? What the hell?” She slid the remaining eggs onto her plate. “Why am I out of the loop?”
“Because you’ve got the biggest mouth of all of us, and that’s saying a lot,” Johnny quipped with a giant, toothy grin.
Ashley pointed her knife at him. “You’re lucky you’re at the other end of the table, bucko.”
“Oh, you probably know this guy, Ash.” Kyle was clearly enjoying torturing Jason. “Geoffrey Crabtree?”
Ashley choked on her egg. “Geoffrey Crabtree? You are shitting me.” She leaned over to get a good look at Jason. “Oh, honey.” She shook her head.
“I haven’t exactly had time to share all my findings with Jason, y’all, so . . .” Kyle cleared his throat.
“That guy is bad news, Jase. Like, seriously bad news. Like, illegal-stuff bad news.” Ashley’s face was serious. “I’ve heard lots and lots of rumors, and I would never, ever work with him, just because of his reputation.”
Jason drummed his fingers on the table. Dammit. Meghan had warned him not to go poking around, and in the past ten days since he’d really begun working on the pub, she’d warned him several more times. But he couldn’t let it lie. They’d had a couple more meetings with that Crabtree ass, and Jason’s opinion of the man had moved from “smarmy jerk” to “potentially dangerous.” There was just something about the dude that set Jason on edge. Having spent seventeen years of his life as a Marine, he’d learned to trust his gut, and his gut was screaming that Crabtree was bad news for Meghan, both personally and professionally.
“Jason . . .” Ryan leveled a look at his brother.
“Oh, cool it, Bubba. I’m not going to do anything dumb,” Jason groused. “Good God A’mighty, y’all are giving me heartburn.” Jason pushed away from the table, having lost his appetite. “I’ll be in the den.”
Jason had no sooner sat down, ready to obsess about what his brothers had discovered, than Kyle and Johnny joined him on the leather sectional.
Kyle coughed. “So, they got married when she was nineteen; Crabtree was twenty-seven. The marriage technically lasted four years, but they were legally separated for a little over three. The cause of divorce was listed as irreconcilable differences, but generally, it doesn’t take three years for that kind of divorce to be settled, especially when there are no kids and no high-value assets. The actual settlement is sealed, so I couldn’t access that without a court order.”
Jason turned to Johnny. “I suppose you have some information, which is why you’re in here?”
“They lived in Charleston while they were together, so I called a buddy. There were numerous domestic calls, starting just after they moved.”
“How many is ‘numerous’?”
Johnny shrugged. “About every three weeks for nine months. He got taken in a few times, but you know how these things are.”
Jason nodded.
“How’d she react when she saw him?” Johnny asked.
“Truthfully? She looked like a deer in the headlights. Of course, when I asked her about it, she got defensive and sassy and threatened to kick my ass if I poked around.”
“So you came right to me.” Kyle laughed. “I’d do the same damn thing.”
Johnny leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “The big question is, what are you gonna do with this information?”
Jason thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Probably nothing except keep an eye out for anything hinky.”
Kyle nodded. “That’s about all y
ou can do.”
“Yep.” Jason sighed. That was all he could do. Unfortunately, by the time something happened, usually the damage was done.
☆☆☆
Meghan sat on the enclosed deck of Foley’s looking in at the main dining room. Less than two weeks in and both the inside and the façade of the pub looked noticeably improved. Jason, Dan, and, lately, Ryan were miracle workers, and Meghan had to tamp down her excitement. She’d learned the hard way that optimism only lead to disappointment, and right now, she couldn’t bear to be let down.
“Hey, lady.” Ryan hopped over the railing of the deck and had a seat across from Meghan. “What’s up?”
She shook her head. “Just looking at the pub and thinking we might be able to pull this off.”
Ryan grinned at her, his full beard hiding an exact replica of Jason’s face. “Looks good. You feel good about it?”
“It’ll be your fault when I jinx it by saying I do feel good.” She chuckled softly to herself, then blew her breath out very slowly. “So where’s your brother?”
“He’s dealing with the closet lady for a bit. When he gets back, we’ll switch out and I’ll go over and see what she wants today. It’ll change by next week when she sees something else.” He shrugged a shoulder. “That’s the way it works.”
“That would drive me nuts.”
“Good thing you don’t work with the public,” Ryan stated with a straight face.
Meghan showed him her middle finger but laughed while she did it. “Okay. I’ve got paperwork to do. Call me if you need anything.” Ryan saluted her, and she laughed some more as she pushed out of the chair and headed into the office. She looked at the pile of bills on the desk and groaned. She did not want to see how much the bar wasn’t making, so she checked the pub’s email account, which contained more vendor notices, and the voicemail—Crabtree again.
