She laughed. “When I flirt with you, Officer Shaw, you’ll know it.”
He studied her. The purple streak in her dark-auburn hair, her tattoos and piercings, all said ‘don’t mess me with’ but he’d known Sadie all his life. Heck, he’d developed a crush on her—like every other guy in town—in his teens, had flirted with her—like every other guy in town—even past his teens. He knew there was a big heart underneath it all.
And, though it was way outside his comfort zone, he could use a little big-heartedness tonight.
“Well, then your pep talks could use some work,” he told her.
She grinned. “Not really my expertise.”
“You’re a bartender. Isn’t that part of the code or something?”
Sadie set a shot glass on the bar and filled it with tequila. “Here’s the code—pour drinks and listen. If you need either of those things, I’m your girl.”
Carter opened his mouth to say something flirtatious, or even outright offensive, about her being his girl but nothing came out. His mind spun with possibilities but he found he didn’t want to say any of them.
What the hell?
But he knew.
Lacey.
She had taken away his ability to be inappropriate with other women. Even women who liked and expected it.
Dammit.
It had been three days since she’d gone back to San Antonio and he’d been a miserable prick every minute of those three days. And there were no signs of that improving anytime soon.
Sadie cocked an eyebrow. “Wow, she does have your panties in a wad.”
Carter shot back the tequila and frowned at her. “Being in love sucks.”
Sadie’s eyes drifted to something over Carter’s shoulder for a moment. Then she looked at him again and refilled his shot glass. “Everyone knows that, Carter.”
He shot that one back too, welcoming the burn down his throat to his gut and hoping that the fuzziness the liquor would cause in his brain would start soon. “No, that isn’t even true,” he said after he’d swallowed. “It doesn’t suck. I just suck.”
Sadie tipped her head. “What did you do?”
He tapped the edge of the shot glass. She looked like she wasn’t sure she should refill it again, but she did.
“It’s not what I did,” he said. “It’s what I didn’t do.” He took the shot and downed it.
“What didn’t you do?”
“I didn’t marry Kristina Martin,” he said, finally feeling the tequila haze start to settle around his thoughts. “I should have. She was smart and sweet and pretty.”
Sadie looked mildly amused as she leaned in on her elbows on the bar. “You should have married Kristina Martin?”
“Definitely,” he agreed. “Absolutely.”
“But you didn’t want to get married. To anyone,” Sadie said.
“But now I do,” Carter said.
The corner of Sadie’s mouth kicked up. “Kristina Martin?”
Carter leaned in. “Well, that would be perfect. Except that I’m madly in love with Lacey and that’s probably not going to make Kristina very happy.”
“A proposal from you might make Kristina’s husband a little unhappy too,” Sadie said dryly.
“Right. It’s a big mess.”
“Because you being in love with Lacey and Kristina being in love with the guy she did marry is a bad thing?”
“Yes. Because Lacey is turning me into my father.”
Sadie’s eyes went wide at that. “Jesus, Carter.” All teasing clearly aside, she covered his hand on top of the bar. “Your dad is a controlling asshole. You could never be like that.”
Except that he could. He felt the urges all the time with Lacey. He wanted to be everything to her and the idea of her leaving him made him all kinds of crazy.
But he’d let her leave. He’d made her leave, even. He should be feeling proud of that.
But he wasn’t. At all. He was feeling miserable and for the past three days he’d been constantly one second away from driving to San Antonio and carrying her off to the nearest Justice of the Peace.
Nolan was supposed to have kept him in check, he was supposed to have helped him, but instead he’d pushed Carter to the point of snapping. Nolan had kissed Lacey—and dammit, Lacey had kissed him back—and Carter had thrown them both out.
That was kind of the opposite of what he’d been going for.
“I needed Nolan. But then it didn’t matter.”
Sadie frowned, clearly puzzled. “Nolan Winters?”
Carter nodded. Maybe they should try it again. Maybe they needed to do it like they had with Garrett—spend some weekends just hanging out before anyone got too cozy in bed. Meaning before Nolan and Lacey got too cozy in bed.
But even the idea of Nolan and Lacey in bed made Carter tap his shot glass again.
“You needed Nolan for what?”
“To keep me under control. To keep me from being a controlling asshole.”
“How was Nolan going to that?”
“By falling in love with Lacey. And me.” He frowned. That didn’t sound quite right. “I guess.”
Sadie didn’t say anything to that. And he didn’t blame her.
Two people came up to the other end of the bar and she moved down to serve them. After she’d filled their glasses, she returned to Carter.
“Okay, I don’t know Lacey. But I’m pretty sure that setting her up with another man isn’t the answer.”
“It’d be a threesome,” Carter said. A little louder than he meant to. He glanced at the guy and woman who had come in a minute ago. He didn’t know them so he just waved. He turned back to Sadie and lowered his voice. “A threesome. Like all three of us. You know?”
She sighed. “Yeah, Carter, I know.”
And she wasn’t reacting with disgust or shock. Of course, this was Sadie. The woman brave enough to have purple hair in Quinn, Texas.
“But that’s complicated,” he said.
“Yeah. It is.” She focused on something over his shoulder again. She sighed and shook her head, then gave Carter her attention. “Listen, if you’re going to keep shooting tequila like it’s the answer to all your problems, I’m going to need to know who to call for you later and I’m going to ask you to move your sorry, pathetic ass over to the sorry, pathetic table.” She pointed behind him. “I don’t want you depressing everyone else who comes in here tonight.”
The “bunch of miserable bastards” was muttered under her breath—kind of—as Carter swiveled to look for the table she was talking about.
Oakley Fox sat across the room at a round table near the back door. He had a nearly empty pitcher of beer and two completely empty shot glasses in front of him.
Carter knew Oakley. He’d been in Quinn, working for Coach, for years. He was a nice guy. And right now he looked like Carter felt.
“Yeah, okay.” Carter took the two beers Sadie slid across the bar to him and headed to Oakley’s table. “Hey.”
“Hey, Carter.”
“Sadie said I had to move it over here. I’m bringing her down.”
“That right?” Oakley looked past him to the bar. “Well, I try not to argue with Sadie.”
Carter chuckled. “Good policy.” He slid into the seat across from him. “What’s up with you?”
“Heartbreak,” Oakley said, lifting his glass to his lips. He drank and swallowed.
“Is that what’s wrong with your face too?” Oakley was sporting one hell of a shiner.
Oakley nodded. “Yep. What’s wrong with you?”
“Same.”
They sat in companionable silence for nearly a minute, each thinking about his own issues. Then Carter had to ask, “Someone I know?”
“Yep.” But Oakley didn’t elaborate.
Okay.
Carter drank down half his beer and wished he’d brought more shots over with him.
“What are you drinkin’?” Carter asked.
“PBR.” Oakley slid his pitcher closer t
o his side of the table. “Pitchers are on sale. I’m not sharing.”
Carter grimaced. “PBR? You are having a shitty day.”
“You have no idea.”
Carter tipped his beer and drained the bottle before setting it down. “Bet I can top you.”
Sadie set four more shots of tequila on the table just then. “Looks like y’all might need these.”
Oakley grinned up at her. “Thanks, Sade, you’re the best.”
She narrowed her eyes. Maybe she thought they were drunk and bullshitting her.
“The best,” Carter agreed, picking up one of the glasses.
She smirked. “Yeah, I’m a regular humanitarian.”
Carter clinked his glass against Oakley’s and shot the liquor back.
It barely burned this time. A good sign.
“Okay, you want this next shot, you have to tell me why you deserve it,” Carter said, pointing to the two remaining shots.
Oakley frowned. “I have to deserve it?”
“Yep. Two shots to the guy with the worst day.”
“Fine. I hit one of my best friends today.”
Carter arched a brow. “Okay, that’s bad. But—” he said as Oakley reached for the tequila. “Count yourself lucky. The best friend I’d like to hit is dead. So…” He picked up a shot and drank.
Oakley’s eyes narrowed. “You really wanna do this?”
“Decide who most deserves to get shitfaced?” Carter asked. “Absolutely. Bring it. I’m the biggest asshole at this table.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Oakley sat up a little straighter.
“I’m in love with someone I shouldn’t be. I’ll never be good enough for her, but I can’t let her go.”
Carter reached for the tequila and Oakley toasted him with his beer.
But before Carter could drink, Oakley said, “I’m in love with someone who feels the same way but can’t face his feelings for me.” He paused, then emphasized, “His feelings” one more time.
Carter hesitated. “Dammit.” He handed the shot glass over.
Oakley swigged it down and then chased it with a gulp of beer.
“You know who you should be talkin’ to?” Carter asked, wondering if his words sounded slurred to Oakley. “My best friend. Garrett. Of course he’s dead now. The bastard. He was in love with me. And I couldn’t handle it.”
“The sex thing, right?” Oakley asked.
“You got it.” Carter tried to point at Oakley but was pretty sure his finger pointed somewhere over Oakley’s shoulder instead. And he couldn’t seem to right it. And he couldn’t seem to care. “Was never into dude on dude,” Carter said. “Pussies are just too good. Why don’t you want that?”
Oakley laughed. And laughed. Like Carter was the funniest guy he’d ever met, and Carter grinned, feeling pretty smug about that.
“Pussies are so good,” Oakley agreed. He clinked his beer glass against Carter’s bottle. “I love pussy.”
“But you like dicks too,” Carter said.
Oakley nodded. “That I do.”
“How come?” Carter narrowed his eyes to focus Oakley better and leaned in. “I’m being serious. What’s the dude thing like? Not bad, huh?”
“No, bro, not bad at all. You don’t have to be nice about it. It’s sweaty and rough and, well, it’s a good way to get out some aggression and get your rocks off…all at the same time.”
“Looks like you worked off some aggression today,” Carter said, pointing to Oakley’s eye again.
“Yeah, but I didn’t get my rocks off.”
“So you like being the fucker or the fuckee?” Carter asked.
Oakley snorted. “I’m pretty often the fuckee, actually.”
Carter snorted too, and then laughed because he’d snorted. He and Oakley were pretty damned funny, if he did say so himself.
“See, I was thinkin’,” Carter said, suddenly feeling like he had a new best friend and wondering why he and Oakley hadn’t hung out before, “that if I was ever gonna do that…and I did not think about that until he brought it up…it would have been with Garrett.”
Oakley narrowed one eye. “Yeah? How come?”
“’Cuz he was my brother from another mother, man,” Carter said, putting a hand over his heart. Or near his heart. He frowned. “That doesn’t sound right though. He was just, like, this great guy and if it would have made him happy, then maybe I coulda been into it, you know?”
Oakley looked as if he was trying to see into Carter’s head. “You would have done that just to make him happy?”
“Well, you know, that’s a lot of what really great sex is all about anyway,” Carter said, feeling incredibly insightful and thinking maybe he needed to buy more tequila to keep around for his inevitable dumbass moments to come. “It’s about making the other person happy. Giving them pleasure, right? That’s what makes it so great. When it’s someone you love, you just want to do everything you can to show them that.”
“Are you telling me,” Oakley said, “that you think a straight guy could actually make love to another man?”
Carter nodded. “I think maybe so. If he loved the guy, you know? And maybe just that one guy. Maybe no one else in the whole world but that one guy and one girl. But yeah, I think maybe so.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “Because sometimes a good hard fucking is exactly what someone needs, and if you love them, you want to be that fucker, right?”
Oakley stared at him for a second. Then he leaned back in his chair and started laughing. Hard. Carter found himself joining in.
They laughed until their sides hurt and everyone in the place was looking at them.
Finally Carter gasped for air and Oakley wiped a hand over his face.
“Holy shit, man, I needed that,” Oakley said.
Yeah, Carter felt about twenty pounds lighter suddenly. “Hey, you know what?” he said, another incredible insight hitting. “You should totally come over and fool around with me and Lacey.”
Oakley laughed again, then groaned. “Man, stop, I can’t take any more.”
“Save that line for the bedroom,” Carter said with a grin.
He had never before felt quite so nonchalant about the idea of sex with a guy. Tequila. That was clearly what he and Garrett and he and Nolan had been missing.
“You’re a funny guy, I’ll give you that,” Oakley said.
“No, see, that’s part of the deal. I’m not funny. We need a guy like you,” Carter told him. The idea really did seem brilliant. “We need the fun, laid-back guy that Garrett was. He balanced out my intensity. Lacey needs both.”
“Carter,” Oakley said, still smiling but obviously totally serious. “Just be both, man. You don’t want to have sex with me. Or any other guy. Maybe Garrett was the guy who could have changed your mind, I don’t know. But you love Lacey. So be the guy she needs you to be.”
Carter dragged in a lungful of air. “Really? You’re turning me down too? I’ve been told I’m good-looking and charming.”
“Too?”
“That’s kind of a long story, actually,” Carter said.
Oakley chuckled. “Well, you know what, Shaw? A few weeks ago I might have taken you up on the offer. Lacey’s hot and you’ve got the whole uniform-and-handcuffs thing. But…”
“You’re taken,” Carter said. Even drunk, he could see the truth in the other man’s eyes.
“Yeah. Guess I am.”
“Well, then here’s my advice.”
“Great, can’t wait to hear it.”
Carter pointed at Oakley again and this time he was right on the money. “Don’t fuck it up.”
Oakley shook his head, laughing. “You kind of suck at this. Though what you said about making the person you love happy was pretty damn smart.”
Carter knew it. He hoped he could remember it in the morning.
“Carter.”
Carter looked up to find Nolan standing next to the table. Nolan. The guy who was supposed to fix everything. It was kismet. Or some s
hit. “Nolan! Let me buy you a beer.”
Nolan looked at the shot glasses and bottles and pitcher on the table. “I’m good, thanks.”
“No, man, I’m not coming on to you, I swear. This isn’t about sex. Just beer.”
“Uh, good to know. I’m actually here to give you a ride home. In my car,” he added quickly. “With me driving and you—” He sighed. “Jesus, everything sounds sexual now.”
Carter tipped his head back and laughed again. Suddenly gay jokes were hilarious.
“Uh, hey guys.”
Joel Rodriguez had joined them too.
“What are you doin’ here?” Oakley asked with a frown.
“Sadie called me.”
Carter looked up at Nolan. “I didn’t tell Sadie to call you.”
“She’s just a smart cookie I guess,” Nolan said. “Come on, let’s go.”
Carter got unsteadily to his feet. He kind of wanted to be a belligerent pain in the ass like so many of the drunks he dealt with while on duty. It could be fun to be difficult and have such a great excuse. But in the end he knew he wouldn’t do it. Drunks were the worst.
“I’m going to put my arm around you to help you walk to the door,” Nolan said. “It’s not an invitation.”
“You’re hilarious,” Carter told him, wrapping an arm around Nolan’s neck. “But I will tell you that I’m drunk enough that if you’re going to cop a feel, now would be the time.”
“You wish,” Nolan muttered good-naturedly as they headed for the door.
The next thing Carter knew, he was waking up in his own bed, stripped to his boxers, with a jackhammer in his skull.
Dammit. He hated being hungover.
He dragged his ass out of bed, pulled on some sweatpants and headed downstairs.
The sound of snoring met him before he stepped into the living room.
Nolan was asleep in the recliner, his glasses crooked, his feet sticking out from the bottom of the blanket, snoring away.
But while Nolan was obviously a good friend and Carter appreciated that Nolan had gotten him home so he didn’t end up dead in a ditch, that was definitely not what took hold of Carter’s heart and squeezed.
Lacey was there too.
She was asleep on the couch. She looked adorable, her hand tucked under her cheek, her hair falling over her face.
Illegal Motion: Boys of Fall Page 17
