“Stop. Now listen… I’m going to tell you something.” His chin drops, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I kind of have my own reason for making this trip—besides helping JR. I kind of left someone behind in Fireside. And I’m hoping… Well, I don’t know if she’ll even speak to me now…”
My eyebrows rise. “You have a girlfriend in Fireside?”
“Maybe?”
This is so screwed up. I’ve been sneaking glances at his brother for the past ten hours, and now I’ve made things weird with my one ally. “I really should go now.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.” He catches my arms gently, and his blue eyes hold mine. “I don’t know why we all ended up in this car together, but I’m serious when I say it feels important. I said I’d look out for you, right? Do you trust me?”
My stomach twists, and this feels so foolish. So stupid and foolish and oh my God, this is nuts. Still, the look in his eyes…
Rubbing my hand over my stomach, I wince. “I guess I never had one of those crazy college road trips people always talk about.”
“That-a girl. Now let’s get something to eat. Combos and Red Vines are not food.”
“I love Red Vines.”
JR’s sitting in a booth looking at a plastic-covered menu. “About damn time. What the hell were you doing?”
We slide into the seat across from him. “Sorry—Hope was trying to desert us again.”
Scout nudges me with an elbow, and I’m terrified he might tell his brother I thought he was going to ask me out. JR cuts those steel-blue eyes up at me under a lowered brow, and I get hot all over. If I want either of these brothers asking me out…
That is never going to happen. It’s beyond clear John Roth Dunne wants no part of me.
“Welcome to the Black Bear. What can I get you folks?” A middle-aged waitress wearing a paper mask under her nose walks up grinning. Her pale red hair is teased up in a bun, and she has little ringlets at her temples.
John doesn’t smile. He doesn’t even look up. “This ‘Reunited at Last’ looks good.”
“One New York steak sandwich. And you?” She turns to me, and I order the first thing I see.
“‘Let’s Catch Up’?”
“Two fish tacos… that just leaves you, honey.” She winks at Scout.
He grins and winks right back, reading her nametag. “Heck, Darlene, I can’t decide. What’s your favorite?”
“Get the ‘So Happy to See You.’”
“Works for me.” He takes our plastic menus and hands them to her.
She looks around the table. “Arnold Palmers for everyone?”
“Sure.” Scout smiles, but JR stops her.
“I’ll have a coffee.”
“And one coffee.” She makes a note, and I’m pretty sure as she walks away, she adds a little wiggle to her strut.
JR glances after her. “This would be a great time to rob a bank with everyone in masks.”
Scout leans forward. “It doesn’t do any good under her nose.”
JR gives his brother a look. “Must you flirt with everyone?”
“Just being friendly.” Scout takes a sip of ice water. “You know, every interaction is a little nicer if you make people feel special.”
“Oh yeah, how’s that working out for you?”
Darlene returns with one coffee and two Arnold Palmers.
I lift mine and take a sip of the half-iced tea, half-lemonade concoction, smiling up at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever had one of these.”
Scout stretches his arm across the booth behind me. “What’s happening in Hopeville tonight, Darlene?”
“Well, funny you should ask, sugar.” She cocks a hip to the side. “Some of the high school kids put together a football team. They’re playing some kids from out of town in about an hour.”
“You’re kidding.” He looks across the table, but John is shaking his head no.
She nods. “First recreational thing we’ve had in months. It’s kind of a big deal. Out at the memorial stadium.”
“Maybe we’ll check it out.”
“You do that.” She sashays away again, and we’re left facing each other.
“We don’t have time for a football game.” JR’s sips his coffee, glaring at his brother.
John and Scout aren’t identical. Scout is blond and surfer, while John is dark and stormy… but they have those matching blue eyes, and when they smile, I can tell they’re brothers. I can tell they love each other.
“Right, and you were going to tell me why we’re driving home like the cops are after us.” Scout’s tone is serious for the first time all day.
“I told you. I want to see Jesse.”
“Yeah, I get that. I believe you want to see him, but I don’t think killing ourselves is the best approach.”
“Nobody’s getting killed.” JR says it like he left off the yet.
“Who’s Jesse?” My voice is quiet, and I say it more to Scout’s shoulder than the table.
John answers. “He’s my son.”
My eyebrows rise, and I swallow the sting of jealousy in my throat. “Oh.”
Of course, he’s married. I study my drink doing my best to act cool, even though I feel like I just found out there’s no Santa Claus.
What’s that about? I have no reason to feel disappointed. This guy was going to leave me on the side of the road.
“Have you even talked to Becky since you’ve been out? Does she know you’re coming?”
“I haven’t talked to Becky since she sent me divorce papers three months into my sentence.” An edge is in his voice, but I’m feeling the tiniest bit better… Divorce papers.
“How old is your son?” My voice is still quiet.
“He turned five a few months ago.”
“That’s a cute age.” I give him a little smile, and he blinks at me a second before looking away.
Darlene is back with a teenage guy, and they put the plates in front of us. “Can I get you anything? Refills on your drinks?”
“I’ll have a refill.” JR unrolls his napkin, and the three of us dig in.
I’m so hungry, I barely even taste the food before I swallow it, doing my best not to groan loudly.
“Damn…” Scout has no such qualms. “I hope you’re not planning to starve us every day.”
“I hope you brought money,” JR quips. “I don’t have unlimited resources.”
“I have money…” Sitting straighter, I hold up a hand. I don’t know why, so I put it down again. “We just have to stop at my bank so I can get a temporary debit card.”
“Don’t worry about it.” JR polishes off his sandwich.
“It’s the money you paid for the car, so… I guess if I’m still using the car, it’s technically yours—”
His brow lowers. “I haven’t made a payment yet.”
“Then how’d you get it?” Scout asks.
“They have this seven-day money-back guarantee. Payments don’t start until next week.”