by C. M. Owens
“I’ve always loved it in the cone,” Victoria says seriously, still going to town on that ice cream while I drive us toward Maverick.
She sways in her seat.
“Victoria, did you drink anything tonight?” I ask her.
“Of course not. I rarely ever drink. I have no idea why I feel so…airy.”
Airy?
“Cones really are good. Waffle cones are better. I got a waffle cone once. Just once,” she prattles on. “It had chocolate.”
“Focus, Victoria,” I say, feigning a modicum of calm when I’m secretly freaking out a little. “You didn’t meet your date yet?”
“No,” she says, then giggles. “He was a cutie too. But I didn’t meet him yet.”
“Did you take any medicine?” I ask, wondering if I need to go to the hospital instead of Maverick’s house since she claims she’s not drunk.
“Nope,” she chirps, then eats more ice cream.
“Did you smoke anything?” Sean asks her, and I glare over at him. “What? I watch TV.”
Rolling my eyes, I continue driving as Victoria giggles again. “Of course not,” she tells Sean, leaning up to bat his shoulder lightly. “I’m so glad you’re back, Salem,” she says on a sigh. “And I’m glad your mother stayed with Ian.”
“She’s definitely stoned,” Sean mutters under his breath.
“How do you even know what that is?” I hiss.
“I told you—TV.”
“Maybe Mom was right about not letting you watch so much TV.”
“Mom and right don’t belong in the same sentence together,” he deadpans.
“Ian loves her,” Victoria goes on with a content little sigh. “It’s so good to see him love someone. I also want to love someone like that. I always just wanted him to be the person I wanted to love instead of finding the man out there who was already what I wanted.”
It’s a little hard to follow that last bit, but I think I get the gist of it.
I really wish Maverick’s house was closer than this.
“Maverick loves you, you know,” she goes on, causing my stomach to tighten.
“She knows but she pretends she doesn’t,” Sean, the little traitor, says before biting into his cone to get to more ice cream. “She thinks we can’t stay.”
“You know the likelihood of this lasting more than a couple more months,” I say under my breath.
“Mom is different since she made up with Ian. I still hate her for refusing to leave me behind when Maverick came to talk to her, but—”
“What?” I ask him.
He blinks over at me. “Maverick kept coming over. He finally won when he and Ian teamed up on her.”
Victoria bursts out laughing. “Ian said Maverick punched him for being a whiny pussy,” she says through her giggles, her body swaying as she almost tilts. “Oh, how I wish I could have seen it. Maverick made him man up and go after her. Then he asked when our son got so violent, because he has a mean right hook.”
Her giggles only grow, almost infecting Sean and me when we chuckle a little for no other reason. Fortunately, we manage to pull up at Maverick’s.
My breath stills in my throat when my lights shine on something too perfect. Maverick is leaned against the back of his car, his arms crossed over his chest as he smirks at us.
I turn off my truck, and Sean pushes his door open, hopping out.
“I was a little surprised you wanted to see me,” Maverick says with a devastatingly cocky grin.
A loud cackle roars from my truck, and his brow furrows. Apparently Sean left out the most crucial detail of this little impromptu visit.
Maverick pushes off from his car and comes around as I open the back door to my truck, and he finds his mother with chocolate ice cream all over her face.
“Mom?”
“You called your father a whiny pussy,” she says around a long cackle that ends up turning silent, though her mouth is still open and her body is shaking, tears leaking from her eyes as she laughs so hard she can’t make a sound.
“Found her wandering the streets,” I say, wiping my smile away as he stares at her with a horrified expression.
“I was trying to cross the street!” she informs him.
Maverick reaches in, and he manages to lift her bridal style, carrying her toward the house as I shut the door. Since I’m worried about her, I head inside. Sean’s already inside and hanging out on Maverick’s living room chair, turning the Xbox on like he’s here all the time.
I decide to go wait in the den as Maverick carries his mother into the guestroom.
Just because I don’t want to be in the way, I turn on TV, trying to pretend I’m not nervous about being in Maverick’s house. With him in it.
It takes him a little while before he finally finds me, and he shuts the door, sealing us in alone, his face stuck in a stupefied expression. “So my mom is stoned,” he says matter-of-factly, and I burst out laughing.
“She was hanging with Ruby’s stepmom since she helps her with her blackboard—”
“Blackboard?” I interrupt, brow furrowed.
“Don’t ask,” he says with a full body shudder of disgust. “Anyway, she was at Wanda’s and apparently took three big brownies for the road, since she was nervous about this date and chocolate always soothes her. However, those were not your average brownies. Wanda is notorious for just randomly baking ‘fun’ brownies and leaving them out like they’re a treat for guests.”
He sighs dramatically, and I wipe the tears from my eyes as I suppress the next burst of laughter.
“I have her tucked into the guest bed with half a gallon of water and a bag of Doritos,” he goes on, and I lose the war, finally laughing as he comes to drop to the couch beside me.
“I’ve never even seen my mother drunk,” he muses.
“She’s going to be mortified tomorrow,” I say as I wipe more tears from my eyes, still laughing lightly.
“Oh, I know. And I can’t wait to give her hell about it,” he says with a smirk.
Our gazes collide, and I realize how close we actually are when I feel his breath tease my lips.
His eyes flick to my lips, and…I dart to my feet like a spring is under my ass.
“I should get Sean back,” I blurt out.
His lips twitch as he arches a knowing eyebrow at me.
As soon as I reach the door, he says, “Later, alligator,” with a small little grin, not looking at me.
That stupid little farewell should not set butterflies loose in my stomach, but it does, and I walk out, muttering, “After while, crocodile.”
Chapter 43
MAVERICK
“Thanks for getting all this for me,” Dad says, a big, goofy grin on his face.
It’s a little petty that I want to punch him this time for being so damn happy, when the cause for his happiness is the woman who surgically cut out my own happiness.
“Not a problem. Had nothing else going on,” I say while pocketing my hands.
His smile wavers, and he clears his throat. “I thought about reaching out to Salem and Sean. It’s been two weeks and they haven’t come around. If I got them to dinner, would you be able to join us?”
Any chance I have to be close to her, I’ll take it. Especially since I haven’t seen her since she rescued my mother from her brownie-induced high a week ago.
“I’ll be there if you can make it happen. But it’s highly unlikely it’ll happen unless Kelly leverages Sean, per the usual.” Lot of bite there.
His smile vanishes as a crestfallen expression steals his features.
“I need to get going. I have to make a stop before I go to help Brin set up for tonight’s party,” I tell him.
He claps my shoulder like he’s trying to give me some sort of show of support. As he goes to look over the contracts I brought by, I walk out, and make it almost to the door before I hear Kelly.
“Maverick!”
I turn around to see her moving quickly down the stairs, back to
her usual pristine self, though she still doesn’t look as rested as she should.
“Yeah?”
She clears her throat, probably embarrassed about pretty much running to catch up with me. That’s not very Kelly. Normally she glides and expects the world to wait on her.
“I was wondering if you would—” She hesitates, swallowing like the words are hard to get out, but finally steels her resolve to ask. “I was wondering if you would be kind enough to perhaps ask Salem to speak with me? I haven’t seen Sean in two weeks, and normally by now they’ve reached the point where they’re arguing and he comes to stay with me for a few days.”
She looks uncomfortable. She also looks a little humbled to even have to ask for help.
“Don’t you usually just go over there and make demands? After all, he’s your son, and you tend to do whatever whenever where he’s concerned.”
Shutters close over her eyes. “I’m trying to move away from those tactics. It’s become apparent that my approach was a little—”
“Cold?” I supply.
She swallows down her pride and nods once. “Sean wasn’t himself during his sister’s absence.”
“Sean was himself, just a more exaggerated version of himself. He wasn’t playing a part since you had no leverage,” I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest. “And anyway, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who can get close enough to have a serious conversation like that with Salem. She’s keeping everyone at arm’s length right now. Not just me.”
Confusion crosses her features.
“I was under the impression you two would—”
“Immediately get back together when she learned you were staying in Sterling Shore?” I ask, then laugh bitterly. “Me too. But it turns out, when you rip the rug out from under someone and they fall and break something, they tend to not be so trusting of that rug again. So they might stay in the same room, but they never get comfortable enough to step on that rug again until they know it’s glued down and not going anywhere.”
She looks away, blinking for a moment, and takes a deep breath. “I see. I wasn’t aware there was still issue.”
“There wouldn’t be if she trusted you wouldn’t just tell them again in a few months that they’re leaving. Sean is already on the rug again, but Salem is older. She’s been around longer to see the worst of you. And she’s not willing to have everything taken away twice. So she’s living at a distance.”
She nods, her lips tightening and her gaze not meeting mine.
“Thank you for letting me know,” she finally says and turns to walk back up the stairs.
I should shut up and go, but it’s like she brings out the lecturing motherfucker in me. I’m not sure if she’s just oblivious or if she tries to pretend she doesn’t know as much as she does.
“Sean doesn’t come to see you because they start fighting,” I tell her, causing her to look over her shoulder at me in clear confusion. “They fight all the time, because they are siblings. But they make up immediately.”
“But they say—”
“They say he comes over when they’re at each other’s throats,” I interrupt with a shrug. “That’s the story they tell because Sean doesn’t want to admit he wants to see his mother, and Salem lets him keep his secret.”
Tears waver on her lids as she swallows.
“A kid shouldn’t feel guilty about wanting to spend time with his mother, but since you act like he’s just a chess piece on a board to control his sister, he does feel guilty. Very guilty. And to keep him from feeling like he’s betraying her, Salem goes along with the ruse, because she’s never wanted to keep him from you. She doesn’t think you’re a terrible person. She just thinks you’re cold, and she’s Sean’s warmth—her guarantee that he turns out like the three who still want to find a home and love life.”
When a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek she gives an imperceptible nod, possibly unable to speak, and turns to glide up the steps with her usual grace.
As I leave, I tell myself I’m seeing Salem at Rye’s party tonight. That there’s no reason to go get my creepy fix through that observation window. That there’s zero reason for me to be parking at the auto shop.
That there’s no excuse for me climbing up the steps, and going straight to the window.
Doesn’t stop me from being seconds away from pressing up against the observation glass when I see her.
Her streaks have changed to pink now, and she’s wearing a black T-shirt with “Clanton Auto” written across it. Her jeans are tight as hell on her ass, which has me inwardly groaning when she bends over to look under the hood of a GTO.
Then…I have to remind myself that violence is bad when I see a guy go over and prop up too close to her, smiling as he talks.
“Gonna go grab her vagina and stake your claim?”
I snap my eyes in the direction of Rye’s voice to find him propped up on the wall, arms crossed over his chest, as he smirks knowingly at me.
“That was certainly entertaining the first time,” he goes on.
“Who’s that guy?” I ask, trying to sound casual and not murderous.
“Max. He’s wheel and tires.”
“I see no wheels or tires under the hood of that car,” I point out. “Do your people not have supervision, or do you enjoy paying them to flirt?”
He snorts derisively, and then sticks his head out the door that leads down to the garage area.
“Max, stop flirting and get to work,” he calls through the door.
Max jumps, startled, then pouts as he walks away. Salem laughs lightly, wiping her hands off on a rag as she turns to face us. The second her eyes find mine, her smile disappears and a light flush colors her cheeks.
I wink at her, because it’s clear I had something to do with that, so I might as well own it. Fighting a smile, she rolls her eyes and turns back around to resume her work under the hood.
Rye returns to my side. “Still keeping you at a distance?”
“It’s hell,” I confess.
“If it’s any consolation, it’s not just you. She’s refused the girls’ offer for lunch several times, and Brin said it feels like a wall is between them now. For the record, keep your stepmother away from Brin. She might very well tear the woman’s head off if she gets a chance. She’s gotten a little attached and protective of Salem.”
I blow out a frustrated breath.
“She’s easy to get attached to.”
He grunts. “I just like her because she kicks ass in the pit. She finished up two jobs already today that should have taken at least a full day to complete. And she’s likely to finish up that GTO in record time at the rate she’s going. People fucking love her, and Wrench called to ask if she was really better than him. Think he’s a little miffed and is now trying to redeem himself, even though he’s happy where he is.”
My eyes never move away from her as she climbs up, giving me a great view. If she has to pose like that to fix a motherfucking vehicle, I’m going to have to find a shop and buy it, make her the sole employee, and hide her from the world.
My knuckles turn a little white from tight fists as Wheel and Tire Boy trips over his own feet, eyes glued to her ass.
“Okay, she’s purposely doing that, just so you know. There’s zero reason for her to be in that position,” Rye says, sounding amused. “Looks like she’s fucking with you.”
My lips twitch as I take a step back. “She always gets me back,” I finally say, trying not to smile about that.
“Know that feeling,” he mutters with feigned annoyance, even as he grins. “How about the kid? He shutting you out too?”
“No. He calls me daily to be a little smartass. Or accosts me on Twitter. Depending on his mood.”
Rye laughs under his breath, and I shake my head.
“Well, at least you get to see her tonight. Thank Brin for that. She hounded her until she agreed.”
“Doesn’t matter how much I see her; it feels like torture not to touch her.�
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His expression sobers. “I get that.”
“There’s always alcohol,” I say with a shrug. “I’ll just get too drunk to care if I’m touching her, and maybe she’ll take pity on me and give me a sympathetic back pat or something.”
He laughs, and I force a smile, acting as though I’m joking.
When she spreads her legs, her knees bent under her, and bends way over into the car, I turn around and stalk out, ignoring the mocking laughter following behind me.
Definitely getting drunk tonight.
Chapter 44
SALEM
The second I make it to the backyard, I feel a little queasy. I’ve managed to avoid the group as a whole for two solid weeks. Tonight? Everyone is here, along with some people I don’t know.
Pie in hand, I shakily move to the dessert table to drop off my customary gift.
“Knew you’d be bringing pie.” Maverick’s voice is smooth, quiet, and really close to my ear as a body presses against me from behind, and a strong arm curves around my waist.
“That’s a little overly friendly,” I tell him, my voice managing to stay light and teasing instead of shaky and breathy as I put the pie down.
“So was your little performance earlier today,” he says.
I can feel his grin, and I inwardly groan. I knew that was over the top.
Turning in his arms, I look up at him. His arm stays loosely fixed to my body, ending up on my back with the new position as he stares down at me with a smirk and glassy eyes.
“You’re drunk,” I say suddenly, a small smile curving my lips for no reason at all. I suppose it’s because I’ve never seen him actually drunk. “Already?”
“I’ve been here a while helping Brin set up,” he says, his other hand coming up to my face.
Okay, I have to get out of this position before I do something like drag him to the bedroom and take advantage, hoping he’s too drunk to remember tomorrow.
Carefully disentangling myself, I put a few feet of distance between us. He rolls his eyes, but remains smirking.
