Whiskey Burned (Flawed Heroes Book 2)

by Jessalyn Jameson

  ALSO BY JESSALYN JAMESON

  Chlorine & Chaos

  © 2017 Jessalyn Jameson

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Cover design by Michelle Johnson of Blue Sky Design

  Edited by Tamara Mataya

  ISBN-13: 978-1535506885

  ISBN-10: 1535506881

  This book is dedicated to you, the reader.

  Chapter

  One

  Stepping out of the cool, dark bar and into the brightness of mid-afternoon, Jake’s shirt clung to his torso almost instantly. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he shook his hair out of his eyes, squinting into the sun to admire the sign his old man hung above the bar thirty-some-odd years ago. The paint had chipped in too many places to count, and the brass “B” hung upside down, swinging back and forth with the breeze. Jake wasn’t too proud to admit the thing was tattered.

  But, neon? He eyed the new sign, wary of taking the final step and hanging the “upgrade”.

  Wary of moving forward without his old man.

  A cloud passed over the sun, as though Mr. Johnson looked down from above. Jake lifted his gaze to the sky with a sigh. “Sorry, Pop, but I’ve been told we need to change with the times.” He spat at the dirt, swiping his rolled-up shirt sleeve across his mouth. Lifting the hefty sign, he stepped up onto the ladder. “And if I break my neck doing this, I’ll know it’s you, ya ornery old coot.”

  Silence answered him as usual, but he knew his father watched from above, a smile on his weathered face and a shot of whiskey in his hand. Always house whiskey, never the good stuff.

  “Jake? Are you out here?” TB’s voice carried to him up on the roof.

  “Up here, kiddo.”

  “I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

  She’d mumbled under her breath, but Jake heard the words. He always heard them, which was mostly why he still called her kiddo. He’d taken over as the annoying older brother when—

  “Randy’s drunk again.”

  Jake looked down to meet her blue eyes, taking a few long seconds to soak in the sense of calm they brought him. “Tell me something I don’t know, TB.”

  “Something you don’t know?” She crossed her arms and glared up at him. “Well, for starters, my name is Tamryn.”

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “Your name is TB, kiddo.”

  “My name is not tuberculosis. And I’m not your kiddo, old man.”

  “Your name is TB, Tiny Baker. There’s really no sense in fighting it.” Jake smirked; messing with her was his favorite part of the day.

  “Tamryn.”

  “TB.”

  “Tamryn,” she growled, eyes narrowing further.

  “TB.” He twirled the hammer in his hands as he stared down at her.

  “Tamryn.”

  “Tamryn.” Jake grinned.

  “TB.” She slammed her mouth shut.

  Jake laughed. “Gotcha.”

  “Damn it all.”

  “Aw, don’t be sore, TB.”

  She brought her hands to her hips, feigning annoyance. “You’re an ass. Your friend is an ass. I’m surrounded by asses.”

  “It’s a good thing we’re cute asses, then, ain’t it?”

  She cocked a brow. “That’s debatable.”

  Jake winked. “What? I didn’t hear you. Can you speak up?”

  TB dropped her hands to her sides, fists clenched. “I said, that’s debatable!”

  He motioned toward her head. “I think your ponytail might be a bit snug today. You’re wound so tight.”

  Her lip twitched.

  Jake waited for her to crack a smile. When she didn’t, he shrugged. “I’ll handle Randy. Gimme five.”

  “Fine.” TB stomped back inside, but Jake knew she wore that trademark Baker smile on her face, the one that shined like a hundred-watt bulb and never ceased to remind him of the best friend he’d lost to a war he didn’t believe in.

  “She’s a real pain in the ass sometimes, Colby.”

  Jake finished hanging the new sign, God-awful as it was, careful to cradle the old version in his arms as he stepped down the ladder. He knew exactly where he’d hang it inside in homage to his old man, right above Pop’s favorite table, broken “B” and all.

  Crossing the covered wooden porch, he stepped into the dark cocoon of The Bar, Jacob Johnson senior’s tribute to a bygone era of cowboys and gunslingers, of saloons, and the wild, Wild West. Inhaling a lungful of old leather and cigar smoke, the only scent he’d ever call home, Jake strolled over to the half-moon corner booth, stepped onto the worn wooden bench and positioned the weathered old sign beside Colby’s Purple Heart and dog tags. His friend’s boots rested on a shelf immediately to the right, still caked in the reddish dirt from war-torn Afghanistan.

  Jake couldn’t even distinguish the musty scent of them anymore; the boots had blended in with the familiar odors of the bar, just another antique among many. Jake sighed. How he’d lost the two most important men in his life in as many years, he didn’t know. How he’d survived the crushing blows of those deaths was an even bigger mystery.

  Jake retrieved a worn-out purple bra strewn across Colby’s boots, then whipped it up onto the exposed wooden beams with the other forsaken undergarments that dotted the ceiling.

  Satisfied with this latest addition to his makeshift memorial, Jake inhaled a deep breath, patted the sign, brushed his fingertips over the dog tags, then turned to find Reed and TB watching him. He immediately focused on TB, searching her eyes for any signs of sorrow.

  “Stop worrying about me, Jake. The old sign looks nice there. Your dad and Colby would love it.” TB smiled, paused for a long few seconds, then pointed. “That, however, does not look nice.”

  Jake followed the direction she pointed, his eyes landing on Randy passed out in a booth near the bar.

  “I’ve got him.” Reed stepped away from TB toward Randy. “He can sleep it off on my couch before the evening crowd.”

  “He’s staying at your place again?” TB asked.

  Reed laughed. “What do you think?”

  Jake jumped down from the booth. “I’ll help you load him up in the truck, but I’ll drive him over to your place. Someone has to tend my bar.” He made his way across the bar, pausing to pat TB’s tush. “Do I pay you to stand around, kiddo?”

  She scoffed. “Oh, do you pay me?”

  Jake winked, then tugged on her blonde ponytail. “College fund.” He turned and began to step away.

  “What if I don’t want to go to college?”

  Jake tilted his head, frowning, then spun back to face her. “This isn’t up for discussion. As long as you work for me and live in my home, you’ll keep your tips and I’ll keep my promise. I’m helping you save for school, TB, regardless of how long it takes us. End of story.”

  TB’s shoulders fell. “You sound like a parent. I wish you’d stop treating me like a child.”

  “There’s nothing childish about planning for a future.” He crossed his arms; they’d been through this a million times in the nearly two years since Colby died, and the outcome was always the same. Wasn’t she tired of talking about it?

  Tamryn’s eyes narrowed as she brought her gaze back to his. “You forgot to tell me I‘ll thank you for this someday.”

  “You’re right.” He grinned. “You’ll thank m
e someday.” He tipped his head to her and strode off to help Reed retrieve Randy from the booth.

  “The college shit again?” Reed whispered as Jake approached.

  “Every week.” Jake shook his head, sliding his arms under Randy’s.

  “You think maybe you should ask her what she wants?”

  Jake’s brow furrowed. This had been their agreement all along, the one thing Colby asked of the two of them in his last letter. Jake would be damned if he didn’t honor his best friend’s final request. Girls never made sense, and Colby’s kid sister was no exception.

  Tamryn sighed as soon as Jake’s truck engine rumbled to life, rolling her shoulders and bending her neck back and forth to try to release some tension. Working for Jake was brutal.

  “Stressed out, Tamryn?”

  Smiling at Reed as he reentered the bar, she crossed the dance floor and slid up onto a bar stool. “Something like that.”

  “You know he’s only looking out for your best interests, right?”

  Tamryn sighed. “Yeah. Right.”

  “He’s hard on you for Colby.”

  Tamryn nodded.

  “And you know he’s an idiot not to realize how you feel about him.”

  She looked up at him, cheeks warming as her eyes met his.

  “Colby should have put that in his letter.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Something like, ‘My sister is the best thing that ever happened to you, dipshit’.” He smiled, hazel eyes twinkling.

  Tamryn couldn’t fight the grin that pulled at her lips. “Thank you, Reed.”

  He ran his hand through his short, dirty-blond hair. “I know what you need.” He disappeared through the double doors, returning a few minutes later with an unopened bulk bottle of cherries. He twisted the lid off, removed the seal, and slid the massive jar in front of her.

  She peered down at the bright red maraschinos, eyes wide. Her mouth watered, but she frowned, pushing the air out of her lips in a raspberry. “No wonder he thinks I’m such a child.”

  Reed snorted. “Having an obsession with formaldehyde doesn’t make you a child, Tamryn.”

  She reached in and grabbed a long stem, then popped the fruity goodness into her mouth. “Mmm.” She focused on the rows of liquor that lined the wall behind Reed. “Which bottle is up next?”

  Reed shook his head, reaching for the top shelf. “Explain to me again why you’re determined to like this stuff?”

  Tamryn watched as he poured the amber liquid into a shot glass, then pushed it toward her. Reed knew perfectly well why she’d been working her way through sampling every bottle of whiskey they stocked. She brought the glass to her nose and inhaled, the pungent scent forcing her to grimace.

  Reed shook his head, then filled another shot glass with more cherries and set it in front of her. “Your chaser.”

  Tamryn smiled and gave a curt nod, then raised her shot glass. “Cheers to…” She paused. “I don’t know what.”

  “To the new sign,” Reed offered.

  “To the new sign.” Tamryn looked over her shoulder at the old sign hanging on the wall beside Colby’s boots. Cheers, Col. “Bottoms up.” She tipped her head back and fought through the shot of whiskey, shuddering as the golden liquid slid down her throat like fire. She blew out a breath of hot air, then looked at Reed.

  “Are you a whiskey girl now?”

  “Not yet.”

  Reed chuckled as he opened a beer. “Let’s stick to what we know.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Tamryn took a long swig of ice cold beer, calming the burn in her throat. “Until tomorrow, of course.”

  Chapter

  Two

  The thin stack of money atop her tray didn’t bode well for tonight’s take-home, which only fueled Tamryn’s anger toward her situation, stoking the flame of her anger toward her brother, forcing her to think of him and miss him that much more.

  Which, logical or not, made her pissed off at Jake.

  Anger was easier.

  The bar doors flew open and Jake strolled inside. Speak of the devil. His t-shirt was off, tucked into the back of his track pants, exposing his bare chest, shiny with perspiration.

  Yeah, anger was easy. It was this other stuff that drove Tamryn crazy.

  The way he strolled into his bar with so much confidence she could almost taste it in the air. The way his pants hung so low on his hips she wondered how they even held on as he approached.

  She clenched her jaw, inhaling deeply though her nose. Looking up at the ceiling, she imagined beyond the building to the sky where she believed her brother watched out for her from above…probably laughing. Colby had always known of her feelings for his best friend—the source of relentless teasing, of course—and she figured this was his way of torturing her for the rest of her life the way a good brother is supposed to. “Couldn’t you have picked someone ugly to babysit me?” she whispered.

  “Breathe, Baker. You’re about to start sweatin’ like a whore in church.”

  “Reed!” Her cheeks flushed as she met Reed’s knowing gaze.

  He winked as he passed her on his way to the stage.

  Tamryn shook her head and took a breath, then focused on Jake, swallowing hard as he stepped toward her, his abs taut and glistening with tiny beads of sweat. Like every other night, his post-run ritual involved stopping in the bar for a beer before he found his way to his house at the back of the building for a shower. Tamryn didn’t know if he did this to torture her specifically, and she doubted that was the case, but...purposeful or not, this was the part of each day Tamryn most loved and loathed.

  Jake stopped just a foot away from her, much too close, and his scent filled her nose. Manly, rugged, natural. Like…earth, freshly tilled, or—

  Damn it all to hell, she’d forgotten to breathe through her mouth. Warmth pooled deep in her belly, her body longing for him as fervently as her heart.

  “How’s the crowd tonight, kiddo?”

  Tamryn licked her lips, then swallowed, opening her mouth just enough to breathe, but not so much that she looked like a total knob. “Fine.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, they’re not tipping, but—”

  Jake leaned down, bending slightly to bring his bright blue eyes level with hers. “Well, that won’t do, will it?” He smiled, exposing the dimple in his right cheek. “I hear your boss keeps all of your paychecks.”

  She scoffed, then forgot herself again and inhaled through her nose, his intoxicating scent curling up into her senses and spreading warmth deep down into her belly. Her mouth watered, and her gaze fell to his lips. If she could just kiss him once—twice?—maybe she could shake the desire from her system. Maybe the reality wouldn’t measure up to the fantasy and she could move on.

  Jake’s lip twitched, and Tamryn quickly brought her eyes back up to meet his, heart thumping.

  He tilted his head, searching her eyes.

  Crap! What love-struck expression had fallen over her features this time? Tamryn quickly straightened, then turned on her heels. “Put some clothes on, old man. Nobody wants to see that.”

  Jake laughed behind her, the sound followed by a loud thump as he jumped onto the small stage. “Hey, hey, everyone! Thanks for stopping by tonight…especially you, Larry. I know how you cheat on us sometimes and sneak over to Bill’s place instead.”

  The few patrons chuckled as Jake called Larry out, and Tamryn made her way to the well. “Two Bud drafts, please, Gen.”

  Gennie smiled dreamily, her eyes glazing over. “That man sure does wear shirtless well, don’t he?”

  Tamryn clenched her jaw as she glared at the night bartender who was much too distracted to notice, then looked down at her tabs, trying to focus on unclenching her jaw and not on the redhead who shared Jake’s bed far more often than Tamryn cared to admit. “Yeah, I guess so. Those Buds?”

  “Sure thing, hon.”

  And Gen had never been anything but nice to Tamryn, so hating her felt…wrong. Especially since Gen
had no idea Tamryn was in love with Jake.

  It was her own damn fault for hiding it.

  “Have I got a treat for you tonight, folks!” Jake’s loud voice boomed through the bar.

  Tamryn smiled, knowing what came next. She turned to the stage, meeting Jake’s stare, then leaned back, her elbows resting on the old wooden bar. She’d wait for the invitation.

  “What are you waiting for, kiddo?” He extended his hand, and waved her over. “Git yer little ass up here!”

  “Knock’em dead, hon,” Gennie called.

  Tamryn strolled to the stage, her shoulders straight and her chin up. Singing with Jake every Friday night was the only time she felt his equal, the only time she could imagine he actually saw her.

  On stage beside him was her favorite place to be.

  Reed grabbed the guitar and joined them on stage, his agile fingers strumming the opening chords to Jake’s favorite Johnny Lee song.

  Settling in beside Jake, allowing herself this one moment to bask in him, she took a deep breath through her nose, inhaling her favorite scent in the world, then winked. “Put your shirt on, Hefner.”

  He leaned away from the mic, covering it with his hand, then whispered, “Am I too distracting, kiddo?”

  Tamryn snorted and rolled her eyes. “Please.”

  If he only knew.

  Chapter

  Three

  The evening ended on a high note. No fights had broken out, no drunk chicks fawned all over Jake, and some road-trippers staying at the shack of a motel down the road stopped in and tipped Tamryn a twenty on a ten dollar tab. They’d also purchased every last one of the blackberry lemon verbena muffins she’d made this morning, which pleased her to no end. She fingered through her tips, counting the stack of bills—wait, never mind. That twenty only rounded out the shift with a whopping thirty-six dollars in her pocket.

  “How’d you do tonight?” Jake slid into the booth across from her, his back against the wall and his long legs hanging out over the edge. He’d changed into his characteristic jeans, t-shirt and boots, and smelled of an aftershave he’d worn as long as she could remember. With a slight undertone of freshly cut grass, the scent was so perfectly him.