TIED: A Steamy Small Town Romance (Reckless Falls Book 3) Page 3

  "I'll be there." I grinned. "Just give me a cover story."

  My mother raised her voice so my slightly hard of hearing father was sure to accidentally overhear. "I'm worried about you not eating enough, Everett. Why don't you come over for lunch?" she practically shouted into the phone.

  I smiled again. "That was a good one," I complimented her.

  "Thanks," she said, lowering her voice. "You're a good boy."

  I pressed my lips together. There was always that little flare of guilt in the pit of my stomach whenever she said that. "Thanks Mom. You're a good mom," I said, parroting my standard response.

  After I hung up, I set my phone back down and grabbed my work bag from the floor, only to have the alarm go off again. I took a look at the screen and then flipped over to the contacts with sharp exhale.

  "Hey Rett," my sister blustered, sounding like a one-woman tornado.

  "Hey Harper," I said. "How's Ellie?" My niece was about to turn one this fall.

  "Well she's... Wait a minute where is she? She was right here!" I heard a scrambling noise in the receiver, then my sister's voice returned. "Rett, I have to let you go, she's currently got a mouthful of carpet lint."

  I smiled. "Okay, you go deal with that."

  "Thanks for calling," Harper said and then hung up without saying goodbye.

  I exhaled and set my phone back down. There, I'd done everything I was supposed to do today. I'd worked, I'd checked in with my family, I'd made promises to my boss.

  Now I could do what I wanted to do.

  Which was what, exactly?

  A flash of bright blonde hair danced across the forefront of my brain.

  And suddenly what I wanted to do was very clear. I mentally tossed a coin, gambling on where she'd be today, the last day of the school year.

  I was about to grab my bag and head out the door to Reese's Pub, when Hal called frantically from behind me. "McCabe!" he said, his voice gone a whole octave higher with anxiety. "Second quarter numbers! Upstairs is asking for them!"

  I clenched my fist and exhaled heavily, then turned back around to do more of what I was supposed to.

  Brynn

  Autumn's phone buzzed on the bar. She leaned over and looked at it, and immediately turned as red as her hair. All at once, she stretched her arms over her head and let out the biggest, fakest yawn I'd ever seen. "Oh man, today really wore me out though," she babbled. "Last days are so chaotic. I think I should head home."

  I glared at her.

  "What?" she said, squirming guiltily.

  "Was that from Cole?" I said leaning forward to try to see her phone screen.

  She snatched her phone away, turning even redder.

  "That is a blatant newlywed booty call if I have ever seen one," I laughed, sitting back. "Fine. Go home. Fuck your husband. It's fine."

  Autumn was almost magenta as she gathered up her things, which made me laugh even harder. "Have you done it in the basement yet?" I called as she scurried out the door. "Try the basement this time!"

  I was still laughing as the door slammed behind her. But my laugh died away as I tried not to feel jealous.

  No, I needed this summer to work out myself, I told myself, ignoring how hollow that pronouncement felt.

  "She sure left fast," my father said, sidling up to the side of me and grabbing Autumn's half-empty bottle. "Didn't even finish her drink."

  "I know. It bothers you when people leave drink undrunk, doesn't it?" I teased my dad.

  "No skin off my back," he shrugged. "They pay for it either way."

  "You don't charge Autumn to drink here," I reminded him.

  He shrugged again. "Guess I'm an idiot then," he said.

  I sat up straighter in a protective huff. "Stop, you're not an idiot, you know I hate when you talk about yourself that way."

  "Yeah, well, I have my idiotic moments," my dad said. His voice got a little softer, and a little heavier, that ragged note around the edges that I hated to hear.

  "Hey, stop it!" I said, reaching over and smacking the bar in front of him. "Snap out of it."

  "I'm fine," my dad grumbled."

  "You sure? You're not thinking about her?"

  "I think about your mother every damn day," my father grumbled. "Doesn't do anything, doesn't mean anything."

  I could feel my cheeks heating in a familiar righteous rage. "Sure it does."

  "I know you would like me to just reach with a melon baller and scoop out the part of my brain that was with her for all of those years, but I can't do that, Brynn," my father said, looking me in the eye. "Your mother's not like a limb I can just amputate off my body. She was my wife for eighteen years."

  "She still is your wife," I reminded him coolly. "Wherever she is."

  "Don't you start on me," my dad warned.

  "I'm not starting. I'm merely reminding. The papers for the divorce are all worked out, you know that. Just waiting for you to sign them. You have ample grounds on abandonment."

  "Yes, well," my dad grumbled, looking down and wiping away a nonexistent spot on the bar. "I have a feeling that's not what she wants."

  "She doesn't get to have an opinion on anything anymore," I said, trying and failing to keep the anger from rising in my voice. "If she wanted to have her opinion matter she could've stayed home. Stayed with us."

  My dad sighed and didn't say anything and all at once I felt like an asshole. "Hey, go home," I said. "Take the night off. It's not too busy in here."

  "Really?" My dad did his eyebrow arching routine again. "This is your first night of the summer, and you want to spend it in my smelly old bar?"

  "I love your smelly old bar," I told him. I grabbed his rag out of his hand and flicked him with it. "Come on. How often do I do this?"

  "Fine," he grumbled. "Don't burn the place down."

  "Don't give me any ideas," I called as I slid behind the counter. I heard my father muttering all the way back out to his car and grinned.

  I wiped a few glasses, and refilled a few drinks, but on the whole it was a quiet night. I was considering closing up earlier than our usual 11 PM, but it was the night before the real tourist season started. This was the last night that our bar would really belong to us, and I wanted to keep it open for the locals for as long as possible.

  But as the clock crept closer and closer to eleven, I started wondering if maybe I should just pack it in.

  When the door slammed open, I was irritated by whoever it was that finally showed up just when I decided to go home. Then I sat up a little straighter and saw Everett McCabe walking towards the bar.

  "You look like you've had a pretty shitty day," I remarked as he sat on the stool.

  It was true, there were deep circles under his eyes, and his normally crisp, pressed appearance was rumpled and faded looking.

  But even with all of that, he still made my breath quicken a little.

  He ran his fingers through his thick, slightly too long hair, leaving it standing up straight in their wake. "And what would my Boy Scout security detail like to drink tonight?" I prompted.

  "Just give me something strong," he said, sounding exhausted.

  "Good idea," I said, reaching for a top shelf bourbon.

  "The master saleswoman, pushing me towards the top shelf stuff, huh?" he said, perking up a little bit.

  "Come on, I know you have more money than God," I teased.

  "You do?" He arched an eyebrow. "How in the world would you know that?"

  "Small town," I reminded him. "I probably know way more about you then you'd like me to."

  He coughed into the back of his hand a little. "Now you've really got me curious," he said and was there a twinkle in his eye? Did Rett's eyes really twinkle or would he consider that frivolous and against some internal protocol?

  I set the bottle in front of him. He looked down and then back up at me skeptically. "I'm only drinking this is if you drink with me," he said smiling.

  There was a deep dimple that shadowed his left cheek,
giving a slight asymmetry to his normally smooth and perfectly handsome face. When he smiled, that mask he wore came alive. I found myself smiling right back, remembering how he'd come alive that New Year's...in the closet...

  "What the fuck?" I said, shaking my head to clear it. I shrugged, grinning. "I'm not actually working. I don't really even have a job right now."

  "Then cheers to that! Wish I could say the same," Rett said, lifting his glass. "Are we doing this as a shot?"

  "Oh yeah," I looked down at the shot glass. "You're probably supposed to sip it right?"

  "Whatever. Drink," he ordered me.

  We both tossed them back.

  "Ah, that hits the spot," Rett said as I coughed. "Glad I came by here."

  "You're just using me to get free shots," I accused him.

  He cocked his head. "You used me that New Year's," he reminded me

  I was really proud of myself for not blushing. "I did. You are very useful," I said with a grin, knocking back another shot. "And you were useful last night too."

  Rett nodded satisfied. "I pride myself on being useful."

  "Like a Swiss Army knife?" I teased.

  He patted his pockets. "I have one of those you know."

  Feeling the effects of the alcohol, I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the bar. "Oh, is that what you call it?" I said, biting my lip.

  I expected him to go red and back off, but he leaned forward. Maybe he was feeling the alcohol too. "I don't know, you saw it that night. Is that how you'd describe it?"

  "It was dark," I stammered and succumbed to the blush that was crawling across my cheek.

  He smiled and sat back, and sipped his drink as I poured mine right down my throat. He let that awkward silence stretch out a beat too long before he finally asked, "Were you closing?"

  I nodded vigorously. "I was about to, yeah."

  "Did you walk here?"

  I nodded again. "I did. My place’s only three blocks away."

  He stood up. "I'll walk you home now," he said calmly. "Since you're tipsy."

  My first instinct was to wave him off. I don't like it when people fuss over me. I doubly don't like it when people fuss over me because I'm a girl and need to be protected or whatever.

  But there was something in his tone that allowed no room for argument. So I went for teasing instead. "Now I'm using you as a security detail," I said, coughing against the back of my hand.

  He smiled and stretched out his hand, beckoning me without a word, and for some reason I'll never quite understand, I let him lead me.

  I locked up and set the alarm and then we walked out into the warm night. Rett rested his hand lightly on the small of my back. Casually enough to be friendly, but somehow...not.

  "As your security detail, I need to know. Are you feeling secure?" he asked.

  I walked two steps and then stumbled as my right foot caught my left. "Yes," I giggled. "But I don't feel very steady on my feet." Without meaning to, I pressed up against him and his hand slid up to steady me, gripping my upper arm.

  There was something about the way he held me, so tight and firm, it was like leaning up against a tree trunk. I could feel the warmth of his skin under his dress shirt, and all around us were the mingled smells of bourbon, his laundry detergent, his aftershave, and something undefined that just smelled like him. I'd last gotten a good lungful of it that night in the closet and it was a scent that made me feel safe and wary at the same time.

  We walked quietly, me leaning on him as helped me navigate the cracked pavement which turned into a rutted gutter which turned into a field, before we turned the corner to my street. We walked in the middle of the road, unworried about any cars coming by and I swear we both slowed as we reached the front of my house. I didn't want him to stop holding me, and he didn't let go.

  As we walked up the porch, my motion sensor light clicked on and with it my thoughts clicked back into reality. "Well, thanks," I said, stepping back and trying to figure out why my head was swirling.

  But Rett wasn't looking at me. "Do you have boots?" he asked, looking off to the side.

  "Boots?" I asked. "Yeah, I have a bunch of boots. I'm a bit of a boot addict." Why was I babbling?

  Rett pursed his lips and pointed. "With tread like that?" he asked.

  I look where he was pointing. There just under my front window was a single boot print, deeply sunk into the mud.

  "No," I said as my voice grew fainter. "That's not mine."

  Chapter Four

  Everett

  It felt like it took fucking forever for the police to arrive, but once the patrol car rolled up and I saw who stepped out of it, it all made sense.

  Gabe Foster. I never fucking liked the guy. Back in high school, he thought everything was a joke, and judging by the giant dopey smile plastered across his face, that attitude hadn't changed as the years went by.

  "So what's all this about then, Reese's Pieces?" he called out jovially, calling Brynn possibly the stupidest pet name I'd ever heard in my life. He shot me a look. "And what are you doing hanging out with Everett McLame?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Good to see you again too, Gabe," I said calmly.

  He lifted his chin at me, but didn't come in for a handshake. I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting to see how exactly we were going to do this.

  Brynn was smiling this wide smile that almost showed her molars. All that quiet, simmering sexiness she's been exuding was gone and she was laughing even though nothing was funny. She shook her head, laughing even harder as Gabe walked up, and a vague high school memory suddenly resurfaced of Brynn smoking on the back steps of the school with Gabe Foster, Derek Granger, and Jesse Klingman. None of them were dating her. She was just one of the guys.

  Idiots.

  She seemed to be falling back into that pose now, subconsciously widening her stance to match Gabe's stupid rolling douchewalk. The two of them hugged, and I clenched my fist to keep from intervening when I saw how Gabe's hand trailed down her back. "I still can't believe you're a cop," she teased him.

  "I can't believe the Queen of Keg Stands is teaching kindergarten, but I keep my mouth shut," Gabe said, smiling widely.

  I must have made a sound, because he shot me a look that said everything I'm sure my glare was saying back. "Besides,” he said, turning back to Brynn. "It comes in pretty handy that I know all of the drinking spots in the woods. Guys on the force say I bust more kids than anybody for underage drinking, but it's because I know all their tricks."

  Brynn laughed, and it was a loud sharp sound that made me look at her twice. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and I got the distinct impression that Gabe bringing up their old, wayward party days was making her distinctly uncomfortable.

  I cleared my throat and stepped into Gabe's line of sight, forcing him to stop staring at Brynn like a dog eyeing a juicy steak. "So the footprint is right over here," I interjected, swiftly moving to derail this trip down memory lane. "We already brought out all of Brynn's boots. You can see right here, none of them match this tread pattern."

  Gabe looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about.

  Brynn let out another strained laugh. "Oh Rett. Let Gabe do his job." Her gaze bounced from me to him and back to me again. I didn't know what the hell was going on in her brain right now, but I didn't like it.

  "Okay then," I said and took one step backward, gesturing an invitation for him to please, go ahead and do just that.

  "Gabe and I have been friends forever. He'll take care of me," Brynn said, slapping Gabe on the back. "Won't you?"

  "I'll do my best," Gabe said noncommittally.

  He flipped open his notebook and scribbled something there, and I had a feeling he was pretty much doing it for effect. "So Brynn what are you doing this summer?" he asked.

  "Oh not much," Brynn sighed.

  "And how's your dad? You still sneaking liquor out of his bar?"

  Brynn blinked and then blushed and I clenched my teeth together to see ho
w uncomfortable he was making her. "I don't. No," she said faintly.

  Gabe looked up. "Oh come on, that was awesome. You were a good friend, always supplying us with booze."

  Brynn swallowed. "Yeah well, that's why you guys let me hang around right?"

  Gabe brayed out laughter. "One of the reasons, yeah!" he enthused. His eye bounced right down to her chest when he said it and Brynn stepped back, crossing her arms.

  A red rush of anger swam in front of my vision. "Okay, here!" I fairly barked. I walked over and pressed my own foot next to the bootprint that Gabe seemed to have no interest in actually investigating at all. Then I took a picture of it with my phone. "There," I announced, stepping in between the two of them and shoving my phone in his face to block his view of Brynn's chest. "I'm a size twelve," I told him. Gabe was still pretty fit from police academy, but I was a good three inches taller, which forced him to look up at me if he wanted to look me in the eye. Which he didn't.

  "So you have that for reference," I went on. Brynn gave me an odd look, but I was already on a roll. "What's your number? I'll text it to you right now," I said, with my finger poised over the button.

  Gabe reached to his badge. "Here's my card," he said coolly.

  "Cool, and your badge number too?" I prompted, unable to keep the hint of menace out of my voice.

  Gabe heard it too. He planted his feet wider. "Do we a problem here, McCabe?"

  "No," I told him, calling his bluff and not backing down. "I just want to make sure you take this as seriously as it deserves to be taken."

  Anger flashed in his eyes and his fingers brushed idly over his holster. I stepped back before I pushed him too far and instead turned away from him and back to Brynn. "You know," I told her. "Your brother might actually know what kind of boot this is since he worked in outdoor tours."

  Brynn nodded slowly. "Maybe they actually sell this particular brand at the outfitters?" she ventured.

  I snapped my fingers. "Smart thinking. We should look over there, see if they have any sales records."

  I turned back to Gabe who was standing there dumbfounded and useless. "Don't worry," I said sarcastically. "We'll do your job for you."