by Hart, Lane
“Hold on. Are you sure about that, Jet?” I ask, trying out her abbreviated name. “Shouldn’t your brother have to pay up for his own bullshit?”
“I’m sure,” she says. “Whatever it takes to get you and the Dirty Aces off his back.”
“Fine,” I agree with a sigh while running my fingers through the front of my hair to get it out of my face. “Call me whenever, and I’ll come get you on your back. I mean, I’ll come get the cash from you.”
Without another word, Jetta pushes on my back, guiding me out the door.
“Until next time!” I tell her since I know I’ll see her again, at least one more time this week. And once the pesky problem of her brother’s debt is out of the way, I bet her anger will fade and we’ll be back to getting naked together.
Hopefully.
Just on the off chance that I’m completely wrong about Jetta, I go to the clubhouse for some advice. Heading into the chapel, I straddle my chair at the table where Malcolm is punching numbers into the calculator like it personally offended him.
“Got a minute, prez?” I ask.
“What?” he asks, picking up the calculator and tossing it over his shoulder where it hits the floor. “I need a new one. That one’s broken.”
“Now it probably is,” I remark. “Anyway, so I have a question for you. What’s the best way to get a woman to forgive you?”
“Buy her shit? Say you’re sorry. Fuck if I know. I think most of the time it’s just a matter of timing and luck.”
“Oh,” I say, a little disappointed by that information.
“Have you apologized yet for whatever you did?” Malcolm asks on a sigh.
“Not really.”
“Then you should probably start there. And then repeat those same words over and over again until she finally gets over whatever you did to piss her off.”
“It wasn’t really me that pissed her off. It’s the Dirty Aces, and I’m just guilty by proxy.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he asks.
“You’ll probably find out soon anyway,” I mutter. “So you know Sean James?”
“Yeah, sure. Terrible card player, bad gambling addiction. We had to ban him because he hasn’t paid what he owes so we had to foot the bill.”
“Right,” I agree. “Well, I hooked up with his sister before I knew she was his sister, and then she walked in on Fiasco and I roughing him up a little.”
“So?” Malcolm mutters.
“So, she’s pissed at me now and doesn’t blame any of this on Sean.”
“Has he paid everything he owes?” he asks while popping a piece of Nicorette gum into his mouth. He quit smoking for his kid, and I realize he may not be in the right frame of mind to be offering me guidance.
“Not yet.”
“Is he close?”
“Not really.”
“Then you need to back off the girl until he’s caught up. Don’t mix business and pleasure. Trust me, I’ve been down that road and it’s not pretty.”
“But you and Naomi are together now and have a kid!” I point out.
“It took over a year for us to work shit out,” Malcolm reminds me. “Maybe that doesn’t seem like a long time to you, but it was an eternity for me. Cut things off with the girl until the brother is no longer on our shit list.”
“Fine,” I huff. “What if she offered to pay the balance?”
“Huh. Then more power to her. Her brother is one lucky SOB.”
“Yeah, he is,” I agree with a sigh, hating that Jetta is going to use her hard-earned money to help him. But that kind of generosity and loyalty just makes me want her even more. “What if I just –” I start before Malcolm holds up his palm to interrupt.
“You are not going to pay that bastard’s debt! Do you hear me, Dev?” he asks. “That’s not your responsibility even if you’ve got the cash lying around. Sean James needs to learn a lesson, and he won’t if he gets off easy. Besides, I thought you’ve been saving up to buy a house for the last couple of years?”
“I have been saving up for a down payment. But four thousand isn’t much of it,” I explain. “Won’t Sean still be getting off easy if Jetta pays it for him?” I remark.
“Who the hell is Jetta?” Malcolm asks.
“Oh, that’s Sean’s sister,” I explain.
“If his sister wants to pay, then that’s her problem. She can hold him accountable, hang that shit over his head for however long she wants to milk it. I bet she won’t let him get off easy.”
“If you say so,” I reply, thinking he’s wrong. I bet she will let him off easy because she’s a sweet girl.
Which gives me hope that maybe one day she’ll be able to forgive me as well.
Chapter Fourteen
Jetta
* * *
It’s just a normal, hot day in the park. Kids are squealing with joy, mothers are sunbathing, dads are checking out the women half their age. Same old, same old, until around lunchtime…
The humming of a loud engine draws my attention up to the blue, cloudless sky. It’s one of the small planes flying across the coastline with an advertisement flapping behind it.
Except, instead of advertising a deal on beach towels, it says, “I’m sorry, Jetta. Call me pretty please.”
You have got to be kidding me!
Did Devlin seriously waste money on hiring a pilot to fly the silly little plane with his message on it?
It’s so…cheesy.
And yet, I can’t stop smiling the rest of the day whenever I think about it.
No man has ever gone to such lengths for me to pull off some goofy, sweet gesture. While watching romantic comedies, I usually roll my eyes at the trials guys go through to apologize when they screw up with the heroine. And it always pisses me off how she instantly forgives the hero for whatever stupid thing he did to her.
I get it now, though. It’s all about the thought and effort put into the gesture that makes a woman feel special, not the dorky act in and of itself.
Who would’ve thought that the motorcycle thug would be capable of also being sweet?
And why would he waste time and money on me?
Hot guys like Dev could have any woman they want. The bad boy image pulls girls in because they know that, even if it’s only a short-lived fling they’ll find with the sexy man, it’ll be totally worth it.
But I can’t choose a sexy biker over my brother. That’s just…wrong.
Sean would never forgive me.
Unless he didn’t find out?
And who knows, maybe Devlin is telling the truth about Sean having a gambling problem. If so, then I can’t really blame Sean’s interactions with the Dirty Aces on Devlin.
Later that night, when I get home, I try to ask Sean about his debt to get more information about how he came to owe the Dirty Aces money.
First, I butter him up with his favorite – a meat lover’s pizza.
While he’s working on his second slice at the two-person dining table, I ask, “So, Sean, what have you been up to lately?”
“Nothin’ much,” he responds between bites.
“Staying out of trouble?”
“Of course,” he answers.
“So you haven’t been…gambling, have you?”
“What? No. Why would you ask me that?” he exclaims with his forehead creased.
“Because I’m just trying to figure out why you owe dangerous people like the Dirty Aces money, Sean!”
“I needed cash. It’s no big deal. Just drop it, okay?” he grumbles before shoving another slice of pizza into his mouth, his shaggy hair hiding his eyes.
“Fine,” I agree. “Can I at least cut your hair for you? I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”
“No thanks. I’m growing it out. Women like long hair, right? Like Devlin’s?”
“Ah, yeah, I guess,” I agree, withholding the fact that my brother is too much of a dork to ever look good with long hair. It works for Devlin because of his wild, bad boy personality. And hi
s handsome face…
I should really stop thinking about him. But later that night, when I’m back in my bedroom, I can’t resist calling Devlin like my fingers have been itching to all day since I saw his apology plane message.
“I was hoping you would’ve called sooner,” he says as soon as he answers.
“Yeah, well I was at work,” I tell him with a smile.
“Fair enough. So I take it you saw the plane?”
“I saw the plane, and I really don’t want to know how much money you wasted on that sign.”
“It was nothing. Pilot dude owed me a favor,” he says. I roll my eyes, totally not buying it. “So what’s up? Is your hair still blonde?”
“Ah, yeah it is,” I reply, thinking that’s a strange question for him to ask. “More fitting for the lifeguard image than purple.”
“So you dyed your hair purple just for the concert?”
“Yeah. Why?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “It’s cool. I like that you change it, like you’re a human chameleon but still the same person.”
“Exactly,” I reply. I’ve always thought it was fun to look different, and hair is one of the easiest things to change. Just making it a different color has a positive effect on my self-esteem. It’s why I wanted to style hair for a living, to give other people that same feeling. But now I’ve gotten off point. “So, listen,” I start, getting to the reason I’m calling. “I’ve decided that I will consider forgiving you if you can help me with something.”
“Name it,” Dev says eagerly.
“Do you, by chance, have any proof that my brother has been gambling?”
“Not at the moment, but I could probably get you some. Why?” he asks.
“Because Sean is still denying everything. He says he just asked the Dirty Aces for a loan. I want to believe him, but you’re right, there’s no reason for you to lie to me.”
“Right,” he agrees. “I’ll talk to our president and see what I can find out.”
“The president?” I repeat in confusion.
“Of the MC, not the United States,” he clarifies with a chuckle. “Malcolm Hyde keeps all of the surveillance footage and shit for the club and our businesses on the cloud. If there’s evidence, he’ll know where to find it for you.”
“Okay, thanks,” I tell him. “And, ah, thanks for all the trouble you went to for the plane. It was…sweet.”
“I was going for apologetic, but I’ll take sweet,” he jokes. “Want me to come over when I have your proof?”
“Yes, please,” I say, and Devlin chuckles again, making me squeeze my eyes shut with a cringe when I realize it sounds like I’m begging him to come over. “You know what I meant!”
“Yeah, I did,” he agrees. “And I’m making it my mission in life to have you begging for Devlin’s big dick again one of these days.”
“Keep wishing,” I joke, even though I’m so close to caving that it won’t take much for me to beg. “And please don’t ever refer to yourself in the third person. Only cool rock stars can get away with that.”
He chuckles again and says, “Deal. See you soon, baby,” before ending the call, making it impossible to not fall a little harder for him.
Devlin
* * *
“Hey, prez, you got a second?” I ask Malcolm when he returns to the clubhouse after our gambling boat docks late that night.
“Make it quick. I want to get home to my kid and ol’ lady,” he says as he comes to a stop next to his bike and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Sure,” I agree. “Do you have any videos of Sean James gambling?”
“Of course,” Malcolm says. “I keep videos of every night on the cruise in the cloud.”
“Good. When you get a chance, can you send me a few of them?”
“Why do you need them? Is that asshole trying to pretend like it didn’t happen, like he didn’t keep raising bets his ass couldn’t cover?”
“No, nothing like that,” I assure him. “It’s Jetta, his sister. She, ah, she wants to see proof since he’s been lying to her.”
“Still messing with the sister, huh, even though I told you that you shouldn’t?” he asks with his eyebrow arched.
“Something like that,” I reply. “Just waiting for her to forgive me and his debt to be fully paid off.”
“Right,” Malcolm mutters as if he’s not buying it when he climbs up on his bike. “I’ll email you a link to what I have for James tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Malcolm,” I say before he takes off toward his house, his fiancée and kid. It was easy to see that the moody bastard has been much less cranky since he got his girl back. I’ve never seen Malcolm as happy as he is now with a family.
It makes me think that I could have the same thing one of these days if I’m lucky.
By the time Malcolm sends me the videos the next day, Jetta is already at work, so I have to wait until morning to go see her alone without her asshole brother around.
I don’t text her to let her know I’m coming over until I’m in the parking lot. I shoot off a text and then head up to her apartment before she responds because I don’t want her to try and postpone.
The doorbell barely dings when she jerks the door open. Her blonde hair is in cute pigtail braids today and she’s wearing a brown cotton dress with tiny straps that reveal part of her red work bathing suit.
“Hey,” I say, out of breath because of her stunning beauty and not the flight of stairs.
“Hey. So you’ve got proof?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Okay. Come in and let me see it,” she says with a sigh.
I go on in and take a seat on the sofa, waiting for her to sit next to me before I pull out my phone to show her. The video is ready to go, so all I have to do is hit play.
Jetta watches the footage of her brother silently. There are several different clips combined, showing him on the boat on different days in different clothes. He’s sometimes at the blackjack table; other times he sits down for several hands of poker. On one occasion, when he loses, he gets pissed, stands up and wipes everything off the table before stomping off.
“So he’s been gambling,” Jetta states the obvious.
“Sorry, baby,” I tell her.
She jumps to her feet, face turning bright red and angry. For a second I think it’s because I called her baby before she launches into a rant.
“He lied to me! I asked him pointblank if he owed money from gambling, and he lied right to my face! Why? Why would he lie to me?”
“No clue,” I answer even though I know it’s a rhetorical question.
“He makes me so freakin’ mad!”
“Do you want me to hit him again?” I joke.
“No. I just…I want him to stop lying and to stop gambling.”
“You have every right to be angry at him,” I assure her. “And I know just the thing for you to get back at him. He would be so upset if you slept with me again…”
“Devlin!” Jetta exclaims.
“What? It’s true,” I say honestly.
“Okay. Time for you to go,” she says, grabbing me by the arm to get me to my feet. “I appreciate you showing me the videos, but I’ll handle my brother from now on.”
“You’re not through with me just yet,” I remind her when we reach the door. “He still owes me.”
“Oh. Right,” she mutters. “Just a second.”
She leaves me at the door to go into her room, and when she comes back, there’s an envelope in her hand, one that’s so full of cash it won’t close. “Here’s the rest of what he owes. You’re done with Sean now, right?”
I take the envelope and flip through the green bills, relieved Sean’s debt is paid, but at the same time frustrated that it was Jetta who came up with it and not him.
“Right, Devlin?”
“Why would you still help him out, Jet? Knowing now that he lied to you on top of everything else?” I ask in confusion.
“Because he’s
my brother!” she exclaims. “And I would like to think, if our roles were reversed and he had the means to help me out financially when I was desperate, that he would do the same, you know?”
“I think you’re overestimating him.”
“Is Sean settled up with the MC or not?” she asks through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, the MC is finished with Sean,” I agree. “You won’t have to worry about this happening again either since he’s been banned from all of our establishments.”
“Good. Thanks,” she says while crossing her arms over her chest.
“You’re welcome,” I say as I hold the heavy envelope, wishing I could give it back to her but knowing Malcolm would lose his shit if I paid it. He’s right. I shouldn’t mix business with pleasure. “So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?” I ask.
“Yep. Goodbye, Dev.”
“Goodbye, Jet,” I reply with a sad smile as I open the door and step out. “How about one last kiss?”
“Why?” she asks.
“Because why not? Unless you’re afraid that if you kiss me again you won’t be able to resist getting naked with me?”
Jetta leans forward and holds on to the front of my cut for balance when she goes up on her toes to place a quick kiss on my lips. When she tries to pull away, I grab the back of her neck with my free hand to keep her mouth on mine, spearing my tongue past her lips. She kisses me back like I hoped, but not for long before she pushes me away.
“That’s enough! Go. I have to get to work,” she says.
“That’s too bad,” I say when I refuse to budge an inch and look down at her face that’s still close to mine. “Because if you didn’t have to go to work, I could spend hours reminding you how good we are together.”
“Guess I’ll just have to live with the memories,” she replies before she pushes me backward and I finally cave and take a few steps toward the stairs.
“Is that your bike down there?” Jetta asks when she sees my Honda Fury sparkling in the parking lot.
“It sure is,” I respond. “Why? You a fan of motorcycles? I’ve got a Harley too…”
