Fighting for Us: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 2)

by Claire Kingsley

  “I didn’t know you when I got engaged.”

  “So? You should have waited.” She took another sip. “That’s okay. I’m willing to evaluate his suitability post-engagement, particularly because you’re only sort of engaged anyway.”

  “Thank goodness for that,” I said, my tone wry.

  She flashed me a smile. “You look hot. Are you sure this isn’t a date?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Weirdest relationship ever.”

  She had a point. It was weird to be wearing an engagement ring and meeting my sort-of-fiancé at a bar, and yet I had no illusions that this was a date. I’d specifically mentioned some of us when I’d texted him, so he wouldn’t think I was trying to trick him into something.

  No sudden moves.

  So tonight was not a date. It was just some friends hanging out in a place where we’d hung out hundreds of times before. And maybe a chance for us to start getting to know each other again. I was hoping the casual environment might encourage Asher to relax and open up a little.

  “Just don’t make it awkward,” I said.

  Her eyes widened in mock surprise. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Why, Grace, whatever do you mean?” she asked in a fake Southern belle accent.

  “I already told him a bunch of us were hanging out, and I don’t know if you and I qualify as ‘a bunch.’ I thought at least a couple of his brothers would be here tonight to help me turn this into a group situation.”

  She pointed toward the bar. “Evan’s here.”

  Evan was here. He sat on a stool, nursing a beer. Despite the fact that the Caboose was filling up, the stools on either side of him were empty. He was imposing, and not just because of his size. His dark brow was perpetually furrowed in a glare that tended to create a halo of space around him.

  “Confession,” Cara said. “I’d totally fuck Evan.”

  I glanced at him, then back at her. “Really?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Since when do you like Evan?”

  “I don’t. He’s a total dick. I’d fuck Levi, too. He’s also a dick, but I’d still bang him.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’d sleep with Levi? You realize he and Logan have identical DNA?”

  “So?”

  “Logan is so much nicer. And more fun to be around.”

  “I can differentiate between prince dickhead and his brothers, even his twin. I’m not saying I’m going to sleep with either of them. Just that, theoretically, I would.”

  “Why are we talking about which Bailey you’d theoretically fuck?”

  She shrugged. “Because Evan’s over there looking all mean and it made me think of sex.”

  “You need so much therapy.”

  “I’ve had lots of therapy, but you’re probably right, I—” She stopped, her mouth still open, and her eyes went wide. “Holy shit.”

  “What?”

  I looked over my shoulder, and in an instant, I knew exactly what had caught her attention. Or rather, who.

  Asher stood just inside the door, his eyes scanning the restaurant. Although it looked like he’d finally gotten some clothes that fit, his tattooed arms still threatened to pop open the seams of his shirt. His brow creased, his eyes narrowing, as if he were assessing everyone’s potential as an adversary.

  “Is that him?” Cara asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You didn’t tell me he was so fucking intimidating. I think the guy in blue over there just peed his pants.”

  Glancing back at her, I laughed. “Shut up.”

  “I get it now. If you’ve been waiting seven years for that, it was worth it.”

  “It’s worth it because he’s my best friend and I love him.” My eyes traced the hard lines of his body. “But yeah, the rest of it’s not bad either.”

  She was right, he was intimidating. Like his brother, it wasn’t just his size. He exuded something—power and strength, even danger. His posture said he was ready for anything, and his piercing eyes and chiseled jaw sent a distinct message. Don’t fuck with me.

  Evan got up to meet him and the two exchanged a quick hug. That was interesting. Evan wasn’t a hugger. They spoke for a moment and the people around them shifted nervously in their chairs, which almost made me laugh. Most of the people in here were locals. Even if they didn’t know Asher and Evan personally, they probably knew someone who did. What were they afraid of?

  Asher’s eyes swept the bar again, landing on me.

  Electricity crackled between us and the butterflies in my tummy took flight. I hadn’t felt this kind of tingly anticipation in a long time.

  It felt good. Really good.

  He crossed the distance to our table, his gaze locked on me. Evan peeled off and went back to the bar, but I hardly noticed. This place could have been going up in flames around me, and I wouldn’t have had a clue.

  “Hey.” His eyes smoldered, but he seemed to catch himself. He glanced away and when his gaze returned, he was back to being guarded.

  But I’d seen it. And that little glimpse of desire was enough to feed my resolve.

  “Glad you made it.” I reached back across the table and nudged Cara, who was staring at him open-mouthed. “This is my friend, Cara Goulding.”

  “Hi.”

  “So this is what all the fuss is about,” Cara said, openly looking him up and down.

  I pushed the chair next to me away from the table. “Do you want to sit?”

  “Sure.”

  He took the seat, resting his forearms on the table. Cara looked him over like she was analyzing the lighting for an Instagram photo—head tilted, finger tapping her lips.

  “Will you stop?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “What am I doing?”

  “Scrutinizing.”

  “Grace, this is the mysterious Asher Bailey. I’ve waited years for this. I have to say, the women of Tilikum should be jealous. It’s quite possible you picked the best brother.”

  Asher glanced at me, his brow furrowed. He looked confused.

  “Don’t mind her. She’ll tell you she has no filter, but really she just loves to say provocative things to surprise people. Or to get attention.”

  Cara sat back and took a sip of her drink. “It’s so nice how you love me for me.”

  Evan came over with two beers and set one in front of Asher, then unceremoniously turned a chair around and straddled it. He gave me a quick chin tip.

  “Hey, Evan.”

  “So, Asher, how was prison?” Cara asked.

  I shot her a glare.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he asked.

  Her lips curled in a smile and she twirled her straw between her thumb and forefinger. “Grace’s best friend. Confidante. Shoulder to cry on.”

  Asher held her in a hard glare, but Cara didn’t flinch. They stared for a long moment, as if they were sizing each other up. The tension made my back tighten. It felt like two of the most important people in my life were about to decide whether or not they were going to hate each other.

  “Prison was shitty,” he said finally.

  “Then I’m glad you’re out.” Cara held up her drink. After a second’s hesitation, he clinked his beer against her glass and they both took a sip.

  I let out a breath. That was a relief. I hadn’t really thought about what would happen if Asher and Cara didn’t get along, but it was a complication I did not need. I wasn’t sure what had just passed between them, but if it meant they were willing to accept each other, I was grateful.

  He set down the bottle and glanced around. “This place looks the same.”

  “It hasn’t changed much,” I said. “Hank might have added a new model train or two.”

  “Onion rings are still good,” Evan said.

  “Was the food in prison terrible?” Cara asked.

  I started to tell her to shut up, but Asher didn’t seem fazed.

  “It was pretty bad.”

  “What was the
worst part? Not the food, I mean overall.”

  He hesitated, like he was contemplating whether to answer, then took a drink of his beer. “You don’t want to know.”

  Evan watched his brother, but his expression was impossible to read. He didn’t say anything. Just set his beer on the table.

  A cute blonde in a pink cardigan came up to our table, stopping next to Evan. She scrunched her shoulders and nibbled her bottom lip. “Hi. Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but you’re Evan Bailey, right?”

  Evan’s eyes flicked up and down, like he was quickly taking her in. He glanced away and took a long drink of his beer. “Yeah.”

  She looked over her shoulder. Three other girls at a table across the bar watched—probably her friends. They nodded with encouragement and one gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up.

  “Um…” She fiddled with something in her hands. “You probably don’t remember me, but you did some work on my dad’s car. I came with him when he picked it up last week. I’m Jill.”

  Evan didn’t look up. Just grunted.

  Her smile faltered, but only for a second. Her eyes brightened and she took a deep breath. “I’ve never really done this before, but I thought maybe you’d want to hang out sometime.”

  She slipped a small piece of paper onto the table in front of him, her eyes nervously darting to the rest of us. Her finger pressed against the paper for another second, like it was a game piece and she wasn’t quite ready to leave it there and end her turn. With another quick breath, she let go and straightened.

  “So, that’s my number. Text me, or give me a call?”

  Evan barely acknowledged the scrap of paper. He took another drink and set his beer down. “Uh-huh.”

  I felt bad for the poor girl. She looked so sweet and hopeful. I didn’t know what Evan’s problem was, but I’d seen him shut down girls before. Especially when they looked like this—someone a guy could actually date.

  “Okay, well, thanks. You guys have a good night.” With another bright smile, she waved, then practically skipped back to her friends.

  “She was cute,” I said.

  He half-shrugged, like he was bored with the whole thing. “Sure.”

  “Are you going to call her?”

  His forehead creased and he looked at me like I’d just suggested something idiotic. “No.”

  “Why not? She seemed nice.”

  “They all seem nice.” He set his beer down and stood. “I gotta get going. See you, Ash. Grace.”

  Without another word, he walked out.

  I darted a quick glance at the girl. She was staring at our table, her expression stricken. Not only had Evan left her number sitting in plain sight, he’d set his beer on the other side of it, as if to make sure she’d see that he hadn’t taken it with him.

  “Nice, Evan,” I muttered.

  “What was that about?” Asher asked.

  “I don’t know. Apparently he’s too broody and mysterious to even be nice to a girl.”

  “Huh.”

  Cara pursed her lips around her straw, then looked at her drink with annoyance. “I need another one. Anyone else?”

  “I’m good for now,” I said.

  Asher shook his head, so Cara got up and went to the bar.

  “Your friend is weird.”

  “Cara? Oh, I know. She takes some getting used to. But underneath her antics, she has a heart of gold. She just doesn’t let many people see it.”

  As if on cue, Cara caught my eye. She gave me a dramatic wink before pointing toward the pool tables.

  Giving me some alone time with Asher. God, I loved her.

  “Was it just me, or did it seem like she and Evan couldn’t see each other?” he asked.

  “You noticed it too? Oh my god, it’s the weirdest thing.”

  “Did something happen between them?”

  I shook my head. “No. They’ve always been like that, since the first time they met. And she’s the same with Levi. It’s like they passively ignore each other. I guess it’s better than Logan. They actively hate each other.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. They can’t go ten seconds without fighting. I think he’s around here somewhere, so hopefully they can both behave themselves.”

  “Does she get along with anyone besides you?”

  I laughed. “Yes, she does. She and Gavin get along okay. She doesn’t ignore him, at least, although he’s like a puppy who won’t leave you alone until you scratch behind his ears. He doesn’t let people ignore him.”

  Asher’s mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. “That kid.”

  Just that twitch of his lips made my heart swell. “I know. He’s crazy, but we love him.”

  The noise in the bar grew as the tables filled. Asher’s gaze wandered and I fidgeted in my chair. People were staring at him. Not everyone, but enough that it was noticeable. It made me want to go toss drinks in all their stupid faces.

  “Easy there, tiger,” Asher said.

  “People are staring.”

  “Yeah.” He took another drink. “Figured they would.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?”

  He shrugged. “Not much I can do. It’s not like I can drag them outside and beat the shit out of them.”

  I started to laugh, but his face was so serious. I wasn’t sure if he was kidding.

  “So is this a typical Saturday night for you?” He set his empty on the table.

  “More or less. I don’t always go out, especially since I bought the house. I’ve spent a lot of nights with a hammer or a paint roller instead of a drink.”

  “You’ve had help, though, right?”

  “Yeah, some, particularly with the big stuff. Gavin still insists he has scars from clearing blackberry bushes.”

  He was quiet for a moment, his eyes intent on his beer bottle. He idly turned it around a few times. “If you need help with anything, let me know.”

  My heart did a little victory dance, but I tried to keep my expression measured. “That would be great. Thanks.”

  His eyes swept the bar again. “I should probably call it a night.”

  My momentary rush of happiness fell just as fast. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I know it’s early, but I haven’t exactly been sleeping well. I’m kinda worn out.”

  “Okay. Well, it was good to see you.”

  “You too.” He stood, and I followed. “You’re okay to get home?”

  “Yeah, I came with Cara. She’s around here somewhere.”

  He nodded. “Good. Night, Grace.”

  “Goodnight.”

  He hesitated for a second and I thought maybe he’d change his mind. But he turned and walked away.

  I slowly sank back into my chair, not quite sure how to feel. He hadn’t stayed long, but at least he’d come. And it hadn’t been strained or awkward.

  But it had been awfully friendly.

  “Hey, G.”

  I gasped as Logan dropped into the chair next to me. “Damn it. You scared me.”

  “You had such a great staring off into the distance thing going on, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Thanks.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Anytime. So what happened? You scare him away already?”

  “He said he was tired. Plus half the assholes in here kept staring at him.”

  Logan cast a random glare around the room. “Fuckers. I’m disappointed he left. I was about to come over here and start flirting with you to make him jealous.”

  I laughed. “Oh yeah. Great plan.”

  “You don’t think it would work?”

  “No.”

  “You vastly underestimate my flirtation skills. I could have had him fuming with jealousy. Make him go all caveman possessive.”

  I glanced away, hoping my cheeks weren’t flushing. Asher going caveman possessive over me sounded all too good right now. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure he’s trying to friend-zone me.”

  “God, prison fucked him up more than I thou
ght.”

  “I know, right? Who wouldn’t want all this?” I gestured at myself.

  “That’s what I’m talking about. I know you’re getting up there, but you’re not bad for your age.”

  I punched him in the arm. “Jerk.”

  He just grinned at me.

  “You owe me a drink for that.”

  He groaned, like I’d just asked him to fix a hole in my roof. “Fine. What’re you drinking?”

  “Gin and tonic.”

  “All right. I’ll fill in for the Bailey who should be buying you drinks tonight. And I won’t even expect you to put out.”

  “That’s good because I prefer men, not little boys.”

  “Ouch.” He put a hand on his chest. “And damn it, I can’t even brag about how big my dick is, because it’s you and that’s too weird.”

  I laughed while he went to the bar. Maybe tonight hadn’t ended with Asher walking me to my car, giving in to his feelings, and kissing the hell out of me. Not that I’d been fantasizing about that all day. But it hadn’t been bad. We’d hung out. Talked a little. It had been nice.

  I wasn’t sure I could call it a step forward, but at least it wasn’t a step back. And at this point, maybe that was a win.

  Dear Asher

  Dear Asher,

  If I ever tell you I have plans to go backpacking with your brothers again, please paste this letter to my face. Five days in the wilderness with four Baileys? Unbelievable. Your brothers are animals under the best of conditions, but in their natural habitat they’re utterly ridiculous. Gram tried to warn me, but of course I didn’t listen.

  Actually, our trip was amazing, despite the fact that your brothers are gross. I’d trained to carry my gear, so that wasn’t a problem. My feet hurt like crazy, though, especially on the second day. I woke up and my feet already ached, so putting in another ten miles was brutal.

  But at the end of that day, I felt like kind of a badass. I kept up with them and I didn’t quit.

  I think something happened to all of us on the second day. Day one, our spirits were high; there was talking and joking around. Day two, we were quiet. Even Logan and Gavin, which was so weird. It was like we were all digging deep to see if we had what it took. On day two, you still feel like you have so far to go, but you’re already tired and sore, and you wonder if you’re really cut out for this.