Low Down & Dirty

by Addison Moore

  Raven presses her hands over her face a moment before coming up for air, the look on her face twice as startled. “Did you tell her about—”

  “Not yet.” Cutting off my sister is becoming quite the sport. “I think before I do, I need to clear a few things up with Chip.”

  “I think that’s a great idea. Maybe by then she’ll call one of us back.” She gives a little shrug.

  “That depends. Is she half as stubborn as you?”

  Raven grimaces. “She’s twice as worse.”

  “Great.” I text my brother and ask where he is. It’s clear I’m not getting anywhere with Low anytime soon.

  “Hey”—Raven leans in—“you know I love you. And I love Low, too. If the two of you are serious about one another, then I’m the happiest person on the planet right now. But the last thing I wanted was for either of you to be hurting, and that’s exactly what’s happened.” She sinks her head into her hand. “And it’s all because of me.”

  “No, it’s because of me. It was a piss-poor idea for me to kid around with you like that. If I hadn’t chosen a lousy moment to revive my ridiculous sense of humor, then I wouldn’t be sitting here right now wondering where the hell Low can be.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Scour the internet—I don’t know. Head down to Food Crack Nation and bribe the hell out of someone in HR to give you that nut job’s address.”

  She wipes the tears from her face before saluting me. “I’ll do my best. And you?”

  My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Chip.

  At the Black Bear. You want to meet up?

  I flash the phone at Raven.

  “I guess I’m going to the Black Bear.”

  I wish I could say I haven’t been to the Black Bear since my law school days, but in truth Axel, Brody, and I sat right here in one of these booths less than a year ago as we conceived the idea for our own bar and eatery. I spot Chip at the end of the bar and head on over. The atmosphere here is lively, the band is screaming their lungs out while girls in short skirts hop up and down to the rhythm. The Black Bear is fun as hell, and if it wasn’t overrun with so many elementary school kids—and sadly that’s exactly what the coeds look like to me now—my buddies and I may never have yearned for a place where grown-ups might choose to venture.

  “What’s up?” Chip slaps the seat next to his. “Belly up to the bar, buddy. You need a stiff drink.”

  “That I do.”

  He nods, and our old friend Cole comes over with a grin on his face and two beers in hand. “Checking out the competition?” He slams the beers down between us. “On the house.”

  “Nothing’s free,” I lament. After running The Pelican into the ground these last few months, I of all people know that all too well. “I’m paying.” I give a quick wink. “And believe me, we’re no competition for you. In fact, we’re already closed for the night.”

  “Really?” He glances to his phone a second. “It’s not even close to nine. Are you catering to the geriatric crowd?”

  “Something like that.”

  He offers a sympathetic nod. “It’s tough. This place isn’t mine, but I see the headaches my buddies go through. They should be around. If I see them, I’ll send them over to say hello.”

  “That’d be great.” I wait until Cole takes off. “Can’t wait for them to rub this shit in my face.”

  Chip slaps me over the back and gives my shoulder a jostle. “The Sloppy Pelican is going to do fine. Stupid as shit name, but loyal customers tend to overlook that stuff.”

  I can tell by that expression on his face he’s only half-kidding.

  “So, where’s Mer?” I give a quick scan of the place, but come up void of my ex-bitter half.

  “Home. Maxie needed her, and she actually sounded like she wanted to be with Maxie, too. I guess motherhood is taking after all.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” My heart strums through my ears, and soon my entire body is thumping with its echo. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to get off my chest for a while now.”

  Chip touches his beer to mine. “Shoot.”

  “I wanted to thank you.”

  His brows hike, and he nearly chokes on his beer. “You want to thank me?”

  “Yeah.” Thoughts of that terrible time close to two years ago come back to me. “You were there for Meredith when I couldn’t be. I was a failure as a husband, and you were the friend she needed—and then some—but I think we’re past that part now.”

  “Are we?” He pushes his drink back as if he’s had enough of just about everything tonight.

  “I think so.” I stare down at the dark granite counter and lose myself for a moment. “When we lost the baby, I guess you could say I lost myself, too. She needed me, and I shut her out, along with the rest of the world. And then—Mer and I did what we were best at. We argued.”

  “And that was the beginning of the end?” Chip looks up at me with that pleading look on his face because we both know he wants to hear it.

  “No.” I glare at him a moment before softening and letting him off the hook one last time. “Mer and I were over long before that.” I land my arm over his back a moment. “You and I both know it.” It’s true. I vented to Chip as much as she did. It was always one of us crying on his shoulder over our lousy state of affairs—which in turn led to their lousy affair. And it was Chip that I told first that my marriage was on the brink. I told him the counseling wasn’t working—that Mer and I were about to call it quits. And then, after I found out about the affair, I wondered if my own words worked against me. The day I found out—Chip and I fought like dogs, threw some serious punches.

  “You told me it was over.” He takes a sip of his beer, his lids hanging low as if the conversation depressed the hell out of him. It does me.

  “It wasn’t an invitation,” I growl out the words. “You know, as fucked up as it sounds, I could have found it in me to get behind the two of you. But after Mer and I were through with the divorce. Not during.” My voice rises a notch. “Anyway, this is where we’re at. You’ve got Mer, and the baby.”

  “And you’ve got screwed once again.” Chip leans in, those hound dog eyes trying their hardest to hold my gaze. “But Evie—Low, whatever her name is—she loves you. You know how I can tell? By the way she looks at you. No offense, but Meredith never looked at you like that.” He winces. “She’s not looking at me like that anymore either.”

  My heart sinks because this is exactly what I was afraid of. “So, it’s over?”

  He picks up his beer and raises it as if he’s toasting me. “It’s over.”

  “I’m sorry, man.” I sling my arm over his shoulders and pull him in. “I really am. I’m not just saying that. What about Maxie?”

  “We talked to a lawyer yesterday about sharing custody. In the meantime, we’re still friends. I’m plan on living in the house as long as I can. It’s going to be an adjustment, but we’ll get through it.”

  “Good. It sounds like you have everything figured out as well as you can. You know I’m going to be there for you.”

  “I don’t know why.” Chip looks up at me with that face identical to mine. “After what I did to you? Hell, I don’t think I’d be speaking to me if given the option.”

  “You apologized—I forgave. We’re long past that, remember?”

  “You forgave. I haven’t forgiven myself.” He shakes his head while staring down at the counter. “I don’t want to talk about me. What about Low? How can I help you?”

  “Unless you have a tracking device that can tell me where she is, you can’t. And even then, she wants nothing to do with me.” I suck down half my beer before slamming the bottle back to the granite.

  “She will. She just needs to cool off. If you want, I can reach out to her and—”

  “No.” It comes out sharp, followed by a laugh.

  “I’m teasing.” He lands a solid sock to my arm. “I want you to know that I plan on regaining your trust. I wan
t us back on track. I’m sorry about the way I behaved, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I can promise you that.”

  “No need. You have my trust and my forgiveness. You’re always going to be a huge part of my life no matter what.”

  Chip sniffs back tears.

  “No crying, man.” I knock my shoulder into his. “It makes you look like a pussy.”

  “That’s when I’ll pretend I’m you.” We share a quick laugh.

  His phone goes off, and he frowns down at it.

  “It’s a text from Mer. It looks like my shift with the baby is about to begin. She’s headed to bed.”

  “You got the night shift, huh?” I give him a knuckle bump as he nods. “That makes you a hero in my book. Give my niece a kiss for me.”

  “Will do.” He hops up and pulls me into a quick embrace. “I know we usually don’t go there, but I love you, man.” His cheeks flex as he struggles to hold it together.

  “I love you, too, man.” I pull him in once again and hold my brother for the first time that I can remember in a good long while. “I’m glad we made it through to the other side.”

  “I’m glad, too. I’ll see what I can do about finding Low.” He gives a tired smile before heading out the door.

  Before I can gather my thoughts, a couple of dudes head this way from the other side of the counter, and for a second I think I’m seeing double.

  Cole comes up between them, and then I realize who it is I’m staring at, the Edwards’ twins. They own the Black Bear along with their sister.

  “Where’s your brother?” Cole nods to the empty seat.

  “He had to run.” I stand to greet the men beside him.

  “Levi, this is Bryson and Holt. I told them you were sniffing around for clues as to what makes a bar tick.”

  “That I was.” I shake each of their hands in turn. They’re both beefed up with muscle, smiling ear-to-ear, and friendly as can be.

  Holt grimaces. “I hear things are pretty rough right now. Anything we can do to help?”

  “Nope. I think this is one storm we’ll have to weather on our own. But thanks for offering.”

  Cole gets called to the other end of the bar and gives a quick wave before taking off.

  Holt eyes the crowd as the masses congregate around the other end of the counter. “I’d better help him out. It’s great meeting you. Come back anytime.”

  He takes off, and it’s only then I notice Bryson glowering while studying me.

  “Something tells me your bar crawl to the studious side of town had nothing to do with sniffing for clues. I saw your brother earlier. He looked pretty down. You do, too.” He floats a fresh beer my way. “You want to open up to your friendly bartender? It’s a trait you might need to get used to yourself.”

  I laugh a moment before taking a sip from the bottle. And then I unleash on him every last grisly detail that’s comprised my life in the last two years. I start with Mer and end with Low, and the two of us just stand there staring at one another a good long while.

  “Wow.” He blinks back as if trying to get a grip on reality once again. “You really went through some heavy shit.” He bounces his shoulders as he shakes his head. “And I think the operative word is through. You’re on the other side, man. You just need to find that girl you’re in love with and make her listen to you. I know she’ll understand. My wife, Baya, and I went through a rough patch while we were dating. She almost died. It was tough. I couldn’t handle losing her, just like I know you can’t stand losing Low. Fight for her. Fight for what you have. It’s worth it. You and I both know it.” He holds out a hand, and I slap him a dull, unenthused five.

  “Thanks for listening. You pulled it out of me like a pro.”

  He mock shoots me with his fingers while walking away. “You’re learning from the best. Don’t be a stranger, man.”

  “I won’t.”

  Only I feel like a stranger to Low—worst of all to myself.

  I’ve been in a fog this last year. Hell, I’ve been in a fog since we lost our baby boy, the one we buried with just a last name. We wanted to save my father’s name for the next one. It felt like the right thing to do. And Mer and Chip did just that.

  I pull my phone out and stare at Low’s name for what feels like forever before I get the balls to text her again.

  Miss you, Peaches. I love you. I love you harder, deeper, far more intensely than I ever thought I could love another person. There are some things I need to tell you. Something happened to me last year, in addition to that whole nightmare with my brother. Something that affected me far deeper and turned me into the grumpy asshole you had the misfortune to meet. I want to apologize to you for that. I want to tell you everything. Please. Just give me a chance. Don’t give up on us, Low. I promise you, we’re worth it.

  I hit Send, leave a bill on the counter, and head out into the cool Hollow Brook night air.

  Alone.

  Something I’ve always feared I would be.

  Key Largo

  Low

  Waking up to breakfast in bed has always been a fantasy of mine that’s made me giddy from head to toe. Levi made me breakfast, but I was far too impatient to hang out in bed while he got to play in the kitchen with the scent of bacon flirting shamelessly with him. Besides, I missed him too much not to be near him. His go-to attire for his morning chef routine consisted of nothing more than a pair of gray sweats. And while he moaned over the eggs and sausages sizzling away, I moaned and drooled over his rock-hard chest, those heavy delineated lines that run along his abs, those pecs that fan out like wings. Once in a while, his biceps would twitch while he fooled around with the spatula. Levi is a barefoot god in the kitchen, and just thinking about his magical spatula-wielding ways has my panties disintegrating to nothing. Damn breakfast.

  “Well, don’t just stare at it,” Lex growls as if I’ve insulted her, and I probably have. “Come on and eat.” She pulls those bright red lips of hers into something just this side of an evil sneer. Her deeply tanned skin glows under the white robe she’s donned, and her hair sits in a messy bun on top of her head. Lex doesn’t have a stitch of makeup on, save for her berry-stained lips, and she looks as if she belongs in a magazine. She’s made breakfast for me and delivered it on a gorgeous old rustic wood tray—two buttery, dripping with syrup waffles that look to die for, and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and coffee on the side.

  I cut the waffle with my fork, hacking off a generous amount before offering her the first bite. “Are you always this nice to your guests?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had guests.” She takes the waffle off the fork with her teeth in one aggressive move.

  I pull my hand back apprehensively. “Anyway, you’re an excellent hostess.” I should know. I’ve been holed up here for the last two days. She’s kindly confiscated my phone and swears she’ll tell me if Lisa texts me in the event there’s a bona fide Hartley family emergency.

  “And you don’t have to take off work again today. I swear I’m going to live through this.” Tears sting my eyes once again as if to say maybe I’m not. “Forget the two-fifty you owe me. Not that you had any intention on making good on that threat to pay me.” I give a sluggish wink at my lame attempt at humor. “Anyway, the last thing I want is for you to end up in my jobless shoes.”

  She sweeps the floor with her gaze. “Enough about me.” That manufactured grin of hers lasts less than a second.

  “Enough about you?” I chortle through my next bite. “You’re like some big mystery. I literally know like two things about you. You’re a food critic, and you fucked Axel.”

  “Ugh!” She picks up a pillow and swats me hard over the head with it. “Is your mother aware of the filth that comes out of your mouth?”

  “Ah, so you’re a prude.” I can’t help but bite down on a smile. It’s been a difficult mission finding the cracks in her armor, other than the crevice just above her heart that only Axel Collins can fill. />
  “And I abhor expletives, so please rid yourself of the need to shed them in my home.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” I salute her playfully with my fork. “You do remind me of my mother in that way—and to answer your question, no, she doesn’t know that I speak fluent sailor-ease. She’s dead.” I take an angry bite and wash it down with quite possibly the best java in the world. “Oh my God, did you drive out to Hallowed Grounds for this? On second thought, I’ve never tasted anything this good before in my life. Please tell me there’s more where this came from.”

  Lex frowns—her go-to expression. “It’s a roasted blend from Ethiopia. If Hallowed Grounds served this, you’d pay seven dollars for a single cup of black. You don’t adulterate something this smooth with cream and sugar. You need to drink it dark to appreciate the bold and fruity flavors.”

  “My God, do you ever. And don’t forget the nutty notes.”

  “You’re the nutty note.” She averts her eyes. “Go back to your dead mother. What happened?”

  For a second I’m slightly offended at her curt and crass appraisal of my mother’s unanimated state, but then I remember this is Lex, and since I’m essentially couch-surfing at her place—or featherbed-lounging as it were, I have to take the good with the bad.

  “We were in a car accident, and she didn’t make it.” I take a quick breath. “I was driving.” There. And for the first time ever, I didn’t follow it up with it was my fault. Levi and his insistence that it wasn’t my fault comes back to me, and suddenly all I want in the world is for him to be right here in this bed with me, holding me, comforting me over our own breakup of all things.

  Her face contorts into a genuine look of shock. Lex has such limited range of emotion that it stuns me for a moment, and I’m half-expecting her to tell me there’s a spider on my shoulder. Shocked is the last reaction I expected from her, even if that news sort of does warrant the look.