Gavin and Sean’s palms met, and they pulled in. “Dude, you really need to add some color in this place.”
Sean looked around his kitchen. “What’s wrong with white?” He waved a hand at the stainless-steel appliances and at the ultra-pale gray marble countertops on his way to the fridge. “There’s your color.” He grabbed three beers, uncapped the bottles, and handed one off to Gavin and the other to Dax. Taking a seat on a metal gray barstool at the island, Sean took a swallow from his bottle. “I was watching Nate’s swing. It’s too low. She kicks his ass during every match.”
“If you say so,” Dax muttered, then coughed out, “Crush.”
Laughter broke out, and Sean sent his bottle cap rocketing at Dax’s head. A quick dodge to the right saved Dax from getting struck by the projectile.
Gavin glanced at his watch. He’d have to leave soon if he wanted to get to Dylan on time. The drive to the bar where they’d chose to meet before heading to the drop location—he still hadn’t a clue where that would be—was a good hour and a half at best from Sean’s place. “I won’t be hanging around here long.”
“You could tell your father you’re not going to go through with it,” Sean said. “You plan to cut ties with him anyway, so—”
Dax sucked his teeth with a side look at Sean. “Dude, come on, you know damn well how the man’s father is. Hell, we all know.” He turned to Gavin. “Bro, no offense, but that motherfucker’s scary as shit. Remember when the three of us would be crazy enough to spend the summer with you? Your father’s way of entertaining us would be to see who could break down and reassemble a Glock the fastest, and the one who came in last had to clean them all.” Dax chuckled and shook his head as he took a drink of his beer. “Yeah, you better follow through on those assignments if you know what’s good for you, my brother.”
“How did Sienna take it when you told her about what you’re doing?” Lucas asked him.
“He didn’t tell her,” Dax supplied, and Gavin hurled one of the bottle caps laying on the counter at the guy’s head. Again, Dax dodged it, remaining unscathed. “What was that for? You said you weren’t planning to tell her.”
Chagrined, Gavin glowered. “Like Sean said, shut the fuck up,” he groused, primarily out of the guilt he felt. “I’ll get the assignments done, and then it’ll all be over. Sienna doesn’t need to know.” He took a gulp from his bottle. The inanity of his words made it hard to swallow.
“Are you serious? You’re not planning to tell her what you’re doing?” Sean asked. “That’s how you intend to play it?”
“I don’t think that’s wise, my man,” Lucas put in. “Look, you know I got your back. I won’t say anything to Bailey, but keeping this from Sienna is not a smart move. I wouldn’t gamble with this one, bro.”
“Yep, that’s what I tried to tell him earlier, but you know his ass never listens,” Dax casually remarked between sips of his beer.
Gavin’s first reaction was to snap off and tell them all to mind their goddamn business, but it wouldn’t be fair. They wouldn’t listen anyway. Here he was at his buddy’s home, using them all as buffers to aid him in his deception. If anything, he should be thanking them for once again having his back. That said, they just didn’t understand what he was up against.
Things between Sienna and him were flimsy at best right now. If he told her he was doing jobs for his father as repayment for using his men to watch over her, he could lose her. She may not take kindly to what he’d done to Dale, either, even though it was in retribution for what that bastard did to her. But she was nearly killed. He couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Fear quivered in his belly over how easily things could’ve turned out much worse because of that fuck-nut. That bastard needed to pay.
Gavin’s thoughts were disrupted at the sight of Nate and his girlfriend now standing just outside the glass doors. His head turned to Sean when he went to the fridge, retrieved two bottled waters, and then stepped outside. He handed over the waters to the pair, then chatted with the young woman, whose features resembled Bailey. Her brown skin tone, lean, athletic build, and even her hair that was arranged into a curly ponytail were pretty similar to Lucas’s wife.
“Hey, are you all seeing this?” Dax asked as they watched Sean laughing it up with the woman, practically cock-blocking his cousin, Nate. With a light touch on her arm, Sean said something that had her throwing her head back in laughter. She gave him a playful shove on the shoulder.
They all looked at one another. “Damn.” Lucas chuckled with a shake of his head. “Our boy got it bad.”
“Yep. What did I tell you?” Dax put in.
Just then, she retrieved her phone from the side pocket of her tennis bag, gave a look at it before tapping in a text message, said a few words to Sean while wearing a bright smile, that Sean reciprocated, and then she and Nate went on their merry way. Sean came back into the kitchen, still wearing that floppy, broad grin. Seeing them all staring, he dried his expression and cleared his throat, concentrating on finishing his beer.
“I’m considering throwing Nate a graduation party,” Sean said. “I didn’t think his ass would make it through a week of undergrad. Soon, he’ll have his MBA . . . never could’ve predicted that.”
Gavin noted the guy’s father-like proud grin. Nate getting his MBA was a major achievement, considering how much the young man used to party. There was a time when Sean would call Nate at school, but the guy would be MIA for days. Then Sean would show up at his dorm and find him passed out from partying or who knows what. Sean wanted to kick his cousin’s ass on a regular basis, especially after the university had placed Nate on probation a second time. Thankfully, the young man got his shit together.
“I guess the maturity bell rings at different times for us all.” Dax got up, went to the fridge, and grabbed another beer.
“We’re still waiting for yours to ring,” Sean teased around sips from his bottle.
Dax threw his head back in an abrupt laugh, then flattened his expression. “You’re funny.” His tone was just as flat, yet he grinned. “I assume that young woman you’re crushing on will be at this little graduation soiree?”
Sean’s brow creased. “She has a boyfriend. The guy is a friend of Nate’s. The dude texts constantly. It seems he likes to keep tabs on her.”
“That’s fucked up.” Gavin stood up. “I better get going. I have about an hour drive from here, and who the hell knows how far Dylan has us going on from there?” On his way out, he said over his shoulder, “Oh, and Sean, you’re definitely crushing on the lady, bro. But as our boy Dax often says, no ring, fair game,” Gavin told him on his way out and heard Dax back him up.
“Damn right.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Heads bobbed to the pulse of the music. Round bar tables that circled the overcrowded dance floor were packed, and not a booth along the far wall was vacant. Customers sat hemmed in tight at the bar, drinking, and abrupt laughter cut through the fast-paced country beat pounding out of the 1980s wooden block wall speakers.
“I guess this is the local hotspot,” Gavin drawled with a look at Dylan beside him. They’d driven out to a rural Virginia town that was so remote, he would bet it wasn’t even listed on the map. There hadn’t been a car on the road for miles. Looking around the place, likely the entire town’s population was in the bar. Not his speed. “I’ll wait in the truck.”
“No need. I—” Dylan started.
“Well, good evening, stranger.”
Their heads turned. A petite, attractive brunette stepped before them balancing an empty tray against her hip. She came up to Dylan, and he leaned in to accept her peck on the cheek. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up. When you’d texted to say you’d be in my neck of the woods, I had to double check the number to make sure I hadn’t been spammed.” Her gaze shifted. “Hello, handsome. Who might you be?”
“He’s my brother, Gavin.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Gavin, and welcome to Cailin’s. I’ve h
eld a booth for you. This way. I’m Cailin, by the way,” she said over her shoulder as she led them through the crowd.
Holding up the rear, Gavin glanced up at the exposed wooden beams and high industrial ceiling fans, and around at the mounted deer heads that lined the knotty oak paneling.
Heads pivoted; hard stares followed them, some in obvious challenge.
They came up to a half-moon shaped booth outfitted in hunter-green leather seating. It aligned with the entrance to the bar, giving Gavin a good view of those coming and going.
He slid into the seat, his spidey senses on full alert. If shit went south, he’d be ready.
Across from him, Cailin and Dylan were having a whispered exchange, heads close, her hand in his. Whatever they were discussing, it brought a pout to her ruby painted lips. She took a step back, and their linked hands severed, a slow separation. Gavin wasn’t sure which of them withdrew first.
“I’ll send someone over with drinks. The usual for you?” she asked, and Dylan nodded. She turned to Gavin. “And you?”
“Whatever he’s having.”
Offering up a slight smile that appeared stiff, forced, she went on her way.
Sitting back, Gavin eyed the crowd as he said, “I guess Angie’s liberal with your marriage vows.” He gave a nod in the direction of Cailin now over at the bar. “You and her?”
“Nah, but she’d like us to start something up again.”
Gavin cocked his head. “Again?”
“She was before Angie, you know, first love and all that jazz.” He frowned. “It didn’t work out. Pop felt she didn’t check out. I had to make a choice. Pop wanted to . . . ” Dylan broke off. His expression became rigid for a moment, then drawn inward as he looked over at Cailin.
Gavin’s brows shot up. “Pop would’ve had her . . . ” Their stares held with clear understanding. “Damn,” he voiced low.
“Here you go, boys.” The waitress set whiskey-filled glasses before them. “Compliments of the proprietor.”
“Then this is for you.” Dylan handed over a twenty to the waitress. With a smile, she tucked it between the deep valley of her full breasts that practically spilled out of her leather vest tank top, then moved on.
They both looked at Cailin again over behind the bar. As if sensing them, her head came up from her task of wiping down the weathered mahogany wooden surface and met Gavin’s gaze, then slid to Dylan, lingering, before she broke the connection and went back to tidying up.
Dylan continued to stare at her a moment longer, then took a sip from his glass. “It was a long time ago. I have my Angie.” His words didn’t quite meet his somber blue eyes as he ran a finger around the rim of his glass.
Gavin didn’t know what to say to the guy. Having seen Dylan with his wife, there was no question that he loved her, but Cailin undoubtedly had been the man’s sacrifice.
He thought of Sienna. Would he be forced to make the same choice as his brother? Could he walk away from her? A sudden foreboding feeling of emptiness swept down on him, that sent a cold streak up his spine. The phantom loss he felt of not having Sienna in his life, the hard surge of emotion had him itchy to get the night over with so that he could get back to her. The mere sight of her would be enough to stifle his anxious heartbeat. He couldn’t lose her.
“Two handsome men sitting here all by their lonesome. I saw you two when you arrived, thought I’d come over and say hello. I’m Deidre.”
Gavin’s head turned to the woman sliding into the booth beside him, catapulting him out of his dismal thoughts. Long, dark hair—glossy. Dark eyes—captivating. Ruby-red lips—full. Milky white complexion—flawless. All a nice combination. Except, she’d been a bit heavy-handed on the perfume; the oddly spicy citrus combination singed the inside of his nose. He looked at Dylan and received a shrug of a shoulder. The woman, Deidre, inched closer. The leather seat anchored the satin fabric of her red mini dress, causing it to severely ride up, revealing shapely thighs.
Her gaze roamed, giving him a thorough once over. “The hair, the clothes,” she sniffed and smiled, “you smell really good.” She looked between Dylan and him. “You guys stand out in this place like road flares.”
Tell me something I don’t know. Gavin came to that conclusion the moment they pulled up to the place. Thankfully, it had been merely the patrons’ plaid shirts and over-washed jeans that separated them instead of a Quentin Tarantino, Dusk to Dawn situation.
“I told you my name. Do I get the pleasure of knowing yours?” she asked while running a slender finger slowly down his arm.
“I’m Dylan, and he’s Gavin.”
Gavin met his brother’s stupid smirk. Dylan was enjoying this.
“Gavin,” Deidre smiled, “I like that name. So, Gavin, do you dance?” The side of her right breast skimmed his arm. One hand came to rest on his shoulder, stroking. The other glided over his thigh, skating inward, upward.
Gavin had a thing for bold women. They tended to get straight to the down and dirty. No games, no strings. Sienna Keller. Her beautiful face appeared in his head. The way she’d handled him throughout her art tour and continued to do so, whether she realized it or not, no other woman came close to her. Anticipation spiked that he’d get to go home to her. The thought of it made him smile. Beside him, practically melded to his hip, Deidre smiled back in apparent misinterpretation. Her hand trailed along his shoulder, perfectly manicured nails lightly skimming his nape. The other trekked a path up his inner thigh coming within a hair of his cock. He removed the woman’s determined hands and slid back, putting much needed space between them. “I do dance . . . with my lady.” Did Sienna dance? He’d have to ask her about that.
A hint of a flicker in her dark eyes, and then she narrowed the gap between them once more. Taking his hand in hers, she brought it to her bare thigh and added pressure against his fingers at the inner curve just shy of the apex. “How about I borrow you from your lady for a dance?” Her pinky came up and swayed from side to side. “One little dance won’t hurt. We can see where the night takes us from there.” Her brilliant white smile delivered all sorts of promises.
Across from him, Dylan’s phone rang. Still wearing that stupid grin as he played witness to the woman’s flirtations, he took the call, and said a few words as he rose to his feet. “Shit, we have to jet, or we’ll be late. I got the time wrong.”
Gavin slid over, lightly nudging, forcing Deidre out of the booth, and stood up. “Deidre, it was a pleasure.”
“Maybe we could connect some time. Here’s my number.” She pulled out a pen from her purse and scribbled her number on a napkin, then came in close, coming up on her insteps to whisper in his ear. “If only you knew the many things I’d love to do to you.” Her gaze met his, her dark eyes full of that wicked declaration as she took it upon herself to slip the napkin into his front jeans pocket, her fingers lingering longer than necessary.
Filing out behind his brother, Gavin mulled over his interaction with the woman. Had he been tempted?
Not even a fraction.
For him, that said a lot.
Chapter Twenty-two
Hours had been spent TV bingeing and catching up. Dishes of Thai food had been ordered. They ate amid series-hopping a variety of shows, and more chatting.
Sienna gave a look at the clock. It was nearly eleven-thirty. Stretched out beside her, Bailey released a wide yawn, one of many that she’d fought for the past hour or so. “Bails, it’s late. You should head home.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Girl, you’re barely able to keep your eyes open.”
Bailey raised her head from the pillow. “I’ll wait until Gavin gets back.”
Sienna expected she’d say that. “It’s not necessary.”
Bailey sat up and rested back against the headboard. “Maybe I’ll text Lucas. These men are worse than women when it comes to guys’ night out. They don’t know when to call it a night.”
“No, don’t bother Lucas. I’m going to take my me
dication and sleep. I’m sure Gavin will be in soon. You should go.” A reluctant stare. “The pills make me sleepy. I’ll wait to take them until you call to say you made it home.” Sienna shifted and feigned a soft grunt. That got her friend moving.
“Sie, you need to rest.” Bailey climbed out of bed and slipped on her sneakers. “Let me get you a fresh glass of water.” She grabbed the glass from the nightstand and dashed out of the room. Short moments later, she returned and set its replacement back on the nightstand. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want me to stay? I could spend the night. Lucas won’t mind.”
“You’re pregnant and should be resting also. Go home.” They came in with tight hugs. “Thank you for spending the day with me.”
“It was fun. Like old times. I’ll call you tomorrow. She headed for the door but turned back. “About you and Gavin—”
“It’s fine.” Sienna smiled, doing her best to convey reassurance. “Like I said, he’s a good friend.” Delivering a weak nod, Bailey left.
Sienna allowed herself to accept those words as she settled beneath the covers. About a half an hour into season three, episode five of Homeland, her cell buzzed. She retrieved it from the nightstand and read Bailey’s message:
Home. Lucas is in bed. Has Gavin made it in?
No.
Really?
No worries.
To end the conversation, she texted:
I’m taking my meds.
Ok. TTYL. XOXO
XOXO.
Sienna set the phone at her side then picked up the pills. Thinking on it, she dropped them back upon the napkin, and turned off the TV. It took about an hour to shut her mind down before she could fall asleep.
A dull ache in her side woke her. Checking the time—2:44 a.m.—she left the bed and padded down the hall. Easing Gavin’s bedroom door open, within the darkness of the room, light filtered in through the partially opened slats of the window blinds. A shadowy silhouette lay upon the bed, low, smooth drags of breath pushing in and out. What time had he come in? She closed the door and wasn’t sure what made her go across the hall to his bathroom. Flicking on the light, the clothes he’d worn sat in a heap upon the floor. With careful movements, she bent, picked up the shirt, and sniffed it, not sure what possessed her to do that either. The scent was a mixture of his cologne, stale cigarettes, and a woman’s eau-de-stink perfume.
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