by Emily Bowie
“Are you listening to me?” Her voice brings my attention back to her; her hands are on her hips and her lips are pressed hard together. Her thick, full lips. The same ones that stole my damn potato. I force myself to stop there before I start to imagine her doing bad things to me with those lips.
“Lady’s choice.” I throw her words back at her. “Easy or hard way.”
“I don’t have time for this.” She begins moving toward the door, which I am blocking. “I have a headache and need a shower.”
She stops in front of me, waiting for me to move. I don’t budge.
“Just remember, this was your choice.” I give her three seconds to change her mind.
“Come here.” I lead her toward my computer as she stomps behind me.
“Want to be famous a second time?” I am about to open up my pictures of her hugging my porcelain god in my bathroom, when she was fully clothed, and all of the information I have on her family. But my hand seems to freeze just as I reach the computer. I look back at her, and she is pissed. I can’t blackmail her just to get my way. I just can’t do it.
I’m not about to let her go, but I will not allow myself to stoop this low. She is not another Andrea in my world. She is nothing like them.
Detouring, I go and grab a longer jacket for her to cover herself up with. No one gets to see what’s underneath the jacket but me. “I’ll pick you up at four on Friday.”
Standing by the door, the jacket is extended in my hand. “My driver is ready and waiting for you. He will drive you home.” I can’t help my straight, rigid stance. Her eyes lock with mine, and I can feel my insides wanting to cave.
She huffs, giving me a what-the-fuck look before stomping toward me, grabbing the jacket, and wrapping it around herself. She gives me a look as if to ask if her wearing the jacket is better now, the anger simmering through her cannot be missed.
“Much better.” I tease myself by placing a light kiss on her head.
I open the door just as I see my father’s hand in the air, ready to knock at my door. He clears his throat, and instead covers his mouth with his hand, looking awkward standing unannounced at my door.
In a gesture of defeat, I tilt my head back. What horrible luck. When I look down I see Jewels’s stormy eyes widen before she gives me her signature eye roll. I should pull her into me to introduce her to my father but I’m too shocked. Believe it or not I have never had my father walk in on me when I was with a girl, and definitely not one that looked like she was doing the walk of shame. But damn those legs, I want them wrapped around me.
Oh shit. She briskly walks away, never turning her head to look back at me. “Jewels, four pm!” I yell at her before she lifts up her hand to flip me the bird. Yeah, I probably deserve that. Standing, staring at her backside, my dad, William, pushes against my shoulder as he slides into the entrance.
This girl is fucking with my head. I pour myself two fingers of whiskey before I head over to the window to check out the view.
“Tyson,” he scolds, referring to me drinking in the morning.
I turn around to see my father. He has a look of determination plastered on his face.
“Can you please tell me what is going on?” I grit it out, trying to remain civil. It’s not his fault I’m in a shitty mood now.
He eyes me for a second, taking in what I am saying.
“I need your help with Peter Flint.” Immediately, my ears perk up upon hearing my youngest brother’s biological father’s name.
“What about? He’s going to be in jail for a few more years.” I flop down on the couch, waiting for the important stuff to be dropped on me so I can begin to bury myself into whatever I need to do. This will be a good distraction until I figure out what the hell I am going to do with Jewels. I shake my head, realizing how low I was willing to go for a date with her. Fuck. All I have to do is call up any of the girls I have taken out before and they would jump at the chance.
“He seems to be missing from under my watch.” I look up to see if I am hearing this right. I know what that means. He was never in jail; it must have been some fabrication of a lie he created with the help of the brotherhood.
My brothers and I are all members of this elite society because of the generosity of our father. He paid for our one-time membership. When this society was created a hundred years ago it was a way to help each other succeed in life. Each of us are like stepping stones in helping each other thrive. We all use the society to get where we want. If anyone ever needs help one just asks for a favor. It is as simple as that. The only catch is that you cannot turn down a request for help. No matter how high the stakes might be. If outsiders knew what we were doing I’m sure they would claim that the brotherhood ambition is over the top. It just seems like good business practice to me, with a flare of excitement.
“I suspect he may be back in Three Rivers.”
The town name Three Rivers stays on repeat in my head. Jewels is from there. It could give me a good reason to check her out right from the source. Fuck, what am I thinking? I’m going to stalk the poor girl’s past? The thought stays tempting in my mind.
“I’ll do it, but I’m bringing Jewels as a date on Friday.”
His look is blank, as if he is trying to connect the dots, then realization hits him. His eyebrows furrow. “No,” he says flatly.
I stand, trying to make my father see I am his equal. Everyone seems to see my leadership ability but him.
“You know the rules,” he tells me.
Since when have I ever listened to rules?
Chapter 6
JEWELS
I run my fingers through my hair as I fret about it. This is stupid. I hate that I feel like I need to try to have amazing fabulous volume in my hair. I even have a hard time admitting to myself why. It’s not the hair that is truly giving me problems, it is the fact I may see Tyson today that has me fretting. I have not heard one word since I left his place feeling like I was doing the walk of shame. I have no reason for feeling this way, nothing happened. Maybe it’s just embarrassment over getting uberdrunk. I close my eyes, releasing a breath before I give up. It’s useless. I haven’t heard from him, yet his words, Friday at four, have been replaying over in my head since I woke up at the crack of dawn.
Not that I had planned on actually following through with the lousy way he asked for a date. Not this girl. Nope. I need to be swooned, lifted off my feet, made a number one priority. I made myself that promise when I left Three Rivers. I was not going to fall back into the same pattern and find myself another Trevor. Trevor, Tyson. Their names are similar. Stop it! I am not going there. Anyway, it does not matter.
I take one last look in the mirror before I head out the door for work. I work in a high-end retail store, but other than Mandy no one knows I work there full-time. After the first year of college, I couldn’t bring myself to go back. I hated it. A waste of a scholarship and money. So I put it on hold until I could solidify what I wanted to do.
I should have been honest with myself and tried harder for veterinary school, instead I allowed myself to be pushed into a business degree with a math major. I know I should be working with farm animals, but this is the city, there are no farms or ranches nearby. The veterinary clinics already have so many student volunteers they don’t need to pay someone to work for them. Since I have bills to pay, I am working here. My knowledge of fashion was so limited before joining this team.
I stand, steaming a fresh box of clothes head office just sent up. The clock on the wall has a way of ticking at me. Each minute has crept by today. Four o’clock. I sneak a peek at my cell phone from my back pocket. No missed calls. Not even a message of anything important on Instagram or Snapchat. To be truthful, I only have Mandy on Snapchat, but still.
I keep blocking out the thought that maybe I am disappointed. Frick, I don’t know why. I roll my eyes at myself, a habit that lives strong in my world.
Methodically, I retrieve the retractable utility knife to cut open anoth
er box that needs steaming and roll the full rack of clothes toward the till for someone else to begin to put away. Before I know it, the part-timers begin to walk in, signaling that my shift is almost over. I feel jittery, as if he will pop through our doors any moment, but nothing. It’s four forty-five and no word from Tyson. Maybe he forgot about his idle threat. With that thought I can’t help but feel a little more relaxed.
After my shift is over, my manager checks my purse and I head for the door. I look in both directions as soon as I am out the door, and there is no guy lurking around the corner. Not that I would expect him to lurk, he doesn’t seem to be the type.
I casually approach my car, no one is near it, and foolishly I even check the backseat. No one likes to be surprised while driving, even me. I sink into my warm cloth seats and take a deep breath. But now I literally have no plans for tonight, and I am reminded that it’s Friday.
I press Mandy’s number on my phone and it begins to ring through my Bluetooth.
“Hey, girl!” Her voice is cheery, almost too cheery.
Pulling out of the parking lot, I head down the street toward the highway.
“What are you up to?” I ask, trying to sound as if I’m not prying.
“Kent and I are about to head out for some ultimate Frisbee.”
I quickly debate if I want to tag along, and decide it’s better than sitting at home.
“Want to get a bite to eat before or after? I’m just leaving work now.” I shoulder check as I access the highway, speeding up to go with the flow of traffic and hopefully catch up with Mandy before she leaves.
“I’m stuffed. I had a late lunch today. I feel like I may not eat for a week.” I roll my eyes at her exaggeration. She probably had a half of a salad.
“Yeah, no problem.” I try to hide the disappointment in my voice. Maybe I should get a dog…
My thought runs off just as Mandy responds, “But if we go for a drink after I will give you a call?” It was more of a question than a statement, telling me that she feels bad for me. Not my intention whatsoever. I am fine in the big city by myself.
“Don’t worry about me,” I tell her, easing my next lie off my tongue. “Jessica from work is having her birthday tonight, so I might already be gone by then.”
“That’s great, sister!” Mandy yells into my ear, her proudness radiating off her into my speaker. Now if only this were true.
“Talk to you later.” I fake being chipper.
“See ya, darlin’.” I end the call just as the red and blue lights reflect in my rearview mirror.
Looking down I see that I am just shy of going ten over the limit. I want to scream in frustration, but I lock it down. Instead, I slow down to a stop, manually rolling down my window, trying to pleasantly greet my punisher.
Seeing the cop walk on over with his tight cute uniform, I choose the flirtatious route, in hopes to avoid getting a ticket. I really don’t have the extra money to be paying this.
“Howdy, Officer.” I bat my eyelashes and give him my charming smile.
“License and registration.”
No please or thank you as I hand it to him. His eyes seem cold and uninviting. Who am I kidding, I can’t flirt my way out of a ticket! I can cry though, plan B. I think about my stressful day, then this shitty ticket, the tears are there, but no waterworks. Of course, today would be the only day I cannot cry on demand. Why shouldn’t it be?
He goes back to his patrol car and I search through my phone. I can’t believe that I had expected Tyson to call or follow through. But that’s the day I am having right now.
Getting my ticket, I throw it with the rest of the garbage in my backseat. I take no shame in doing that with the cop’s eyes on me. In fact, it only makes me smile. Yes, this may be the highlight of my day.
It doesn’t surprise me that my assigned parking spot is taken. Some fancy motorcycle sits in its place. Some nerdy scrawny geek who needs to feel cool probably owns it. Yes, I could go complain to the condo board but it isn’t like anything will get done. This dumbass will probably be gone by the time they get their lazy asses off the chair to check it out.
As I walk toward the entrance of my home, I can smell the sweet aroma of delicious cooking. Must be the neighbors again. I need to become friends with them, I mentally note. That is my next mission. Mandy and I both burn water when we cook. Apart from making eggs and bacon, that is. It’s time I branch out.
The thudding bass of “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC greets me as I approach my door. I only know this because I thought it was catchy at Brody’s party when the DJ announced it. At the same time it makes me turn my head a bit. I had no idea Kent liked this music and it is unlike Mandy to accidently leave the music blaring like it is.
Stepping into our home, I hear the sound of oil sizzling in a frying pan, the food aromas making my mouth water. Instantly, I notice the room is dimly lit and the table fully set. Holy shit.
Tyson looks over his shoulder, giving me one hell of a sexy smirk that sends goose bumps through me. I am frozen in place. My eyes cannot leave him in my stunned state.
Turning around, he wipes his hands on my old hand towel. His look is one of amusement and cockiness.
“You are a little late for four o’clock I think.” Of course he goes right in for the kill.
“I—I,” I stutter, not knowing what to say. To be honest, no one has ever made me a romantic dinner like this before. The gesture is so darn sweet that tears begin to flood my eyes. Blinking, I fight them back. I, Jewels, do not cry. Especially over something sappy like this!
“How did you get into my house?” I cross my arms, shielding me from his voodoo magic that he seems to use on me. I will not be charmed by Tyson Bennett!
He cocks one of his eyebrows at me. “That is what you take out of this?” His voice is full of amusement, like he knows something I don’t.
“Do you take enjoyment out of stalking innocent girls?”
His sexy lips curve upward, leaving me wonder what they could do to me. I already know this will only lead to heartbreak.
“I stopped by here at four.” He emphasizes the time part. “And Mandy told me I could wait in here for you while she stepped out.” He shrugs like this is no big deal.
“Do you plan on coming in and staying?”
He’s inviting me into my own home now. Oh no, he does not. Slipping off my heels, I move past him, bumping his shoulder. “I need to put my stuff away.” I hold up my purse I have been clutching as if my life depends on it.
I need a moment to gather myself, to get out from under his eyes. Holy shit, Tyson Bennett is in my house and made me dinner! I want to squeal and do a happy dance but refrain as I remind myself I am heading toward a road of heartbreak.
Placing my purse down, the whole thing begins to vibrate. I drive my hand in to fish my phone out from among the other two hundred things I have in there. Oh Mandy is going to hear about this tomorrow, I decide. The nerve of her to act like all is well. She and Kent are probably laughing at me right now.
My fingers find the vibrating phone and I pull it out to see the number belonging to a person from my past. Trevor. I throw it on my bed, like it is acid, before I turn on my heels to go back to face the man making me dinner.
As I sit and watch Tyson cook for me, I take the moment to ogle his perfect backside. My kitchen looks so small with him in it. I can see the muscles stretching his shirt, his dark jeans hugging his ass perfectly. He must instantly sweat when he steps outside, his outfit makes me hot just looking at him.
He turns around, flashing me that sexy panty-dropping smirk while lifting one of his eyebrows. Busted. Oh well. I shrug like it’s nothing and smirk right back at him.
“Wine?” He holds up a bottle of white wine and I nod. He fills up my glass with a modest amount. I can’t help but remember how adamant he seemed to be about me not drinking too much at Brody’s party.
Tyson has been a true gentleman the whole evening so far. Right from pulling out my chair
to dishing out my food. The smooth white wine he brought has flown easily, too easily. My senses have been on high alert, waiting for anything that may tell me he’s here for all of the wrong reasons. Nothing.
“That was delicious!” I announce, pushing my plate away from me. Standing up, he goes to clear the table. “Let’s leave these in the sink,” I say, taking the dishes straight from his hands and walking over to my sink that is already full of pots and pans.
“I don’t mind washing these up while you relax on the couch,” he offers. I give him one of my looks. There is no way company of mine will ever be doing the dishes.
“No. I would rather the two of us relax, or I can’t relax,” I admit, keeping my ground, unwilling to negotiate.
He studies me for a moment before he takes what I am saying at face value. He nods his head. “Only if you are sure?” He phrases it like a question, making sure that I am fine with this. He keeps softening me up with how nice the whole evening has been.
“That was the best home-cooked meal I have had since I moved here,” I compliment. My stomach feels stretched to its limits.
I lie down on the couch, swinging my legs over top of his lap, wine glass in hand. I feel relaxed and content. Comfortable silence washes over the room, and I can honestly say at this moment I feel like I am back. The pre-Trevor Jewels is back. My smile is honest and genuine.
His hands slide over my feet before he starts to massage them; it’s divine. Being in heels and on my feet does a number on my soles.
“So I hear you have a full scholarship for university.”
I have no idea how he knows this, Mandy must have mentioned it.
“I did.” I take a sip of wine, deciding if and how I should elaborate.
“Come here.” He pulls at me, bringing me right to his chest. I can feel his hot breath on my hair and before I know it he uses his phone to flash a picture of us.
