Undeniably His Page 5

  “Holy fucking shit!” He throws his head back and laughs. “You’re seeing somebody, aren’t you?” he asks, a smile pulling at his lips. “I never thought I’d see the day when Beau Matson would get cleaned up for another chick, but I guess miracles do happen.”

  “Stay out of my business,” I tell him, pulling the leg of my jeans over my favorite pair of boots. That asshole knows better than to bring up anything that may even remotely make me think about my past and how it landed me here. Anger begins to creep up my spine, but I quickly shrug it off, because Leo’s comments aren’t worth me getting pissed about.

  “You’re right, man—what you do isn’t my business. I just hope whatever or whoever it is makes you happy, because nobody deserves happiness more than you do, big brother,” he says, cautiously making his way toward me.

  Leo has no idea what I’m up to. Hell, I have no idea what I’m up to, but whatever this crazy shit is that I’m doing, hopefully it will eventually pay off.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” I ask, snagging my keys from the coffee table.

  “Looking for Mom. She promised to cook me dinner.” He walks around me and plops down on the couch.

  “Don’t you have a girlfriend for that?”

  “Nah, she doesn’t cook. Plus, she’s working late tonight.” He grabs the remote and turns on the TV. “Mom wasn’t at home or at Hannah’s, so I figured she must be here, and by the smell coming from the kitchen, I’m right, aren’t I?” he asks as he flips through the channels.

  Hannah’s my younger sister. She’s the only one of the three of us who listened to my dad and graduated from college. Leo only went for a semester or two, and I never went at all. Hannah’s a teacher; more specifically, she teaches kindergartners. That would not be my choice of profession, but at least she has a job where she doesn’t have to depend on me or the automotive shop to take care of her bills.

  “Yeah, she’s here. She’s watching Rhys for a couple of hours. I didn’t want to ask Hannah again because Blake’s in town, and I figured she’d want to spend time with him.”

  Blake’s my sister’s boyfriend who lives out of state. He’s only in town a few days out of the month, and Leo hates him. Me, I don’t care one way or another as long as Hannah’s happy and he doesn’t hurt her.

  “I fucking hate that bastard. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was married with another family in New York or wherever the hell it is he lives,” Leo grunts. He turns the TV off and stands. “I think we need to dig a little deeper and find out who this Blake Livingston really is, see what he’s hiding.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth.

  “Leave it alone, Leo. I don’t like the guy either, but we’ve got enough shit on our plate without adding to it. If Hannah needs our help, she’ll ask for it. Now, settle your ass down, eat supper, and then go fuck your girlfriend. I promise you’ll forget all about Blake.”

  Leo shakes his head and looks away for a beat. Once his gaze returns to mine, he continues, “I know, man. You’re right. It’s just every time I’m around him, something seems off. But, I’ll let it go… for now.”

  I slap him on the back twice and head toward the door.

  “You’re a good brother for looking after Hannah, but she’s more than capable of taking care of her own life and could probably manage ours better than we do, so have some faith in her choices.”

  “Just one thing before you go.”

  “What’s that?” I ask as I grab the door handle.

  “Where are you going?”

  Another voice chimes in. “Yeah, Dad, where are you going?” That voice is attached to a ten-year-old boy who’s supposed to be in the kitchen helping his grandmother make dinner.

  “Now see what you’ve started?” I mumble, glaring at my brother.

  Leo chuckles and looks over at my son.

  “I thought you were helping Nona out in the kitchen,” I say to Rhys. Nona is what he calls my mother, and normally when she’s here, no one else matters. Having her watch him usually keeps him from questioning me about what I’m doing.

  “I was, but I heard Uncle Leo and wanted to see what’s going on out here. Nona is finishing up dinner now, so my job is done,” he explains as he looks at me and then at Leo. “Are you going with my dad?”

  “No, buddy, I’m having dinner with you and Nona,” Leo says.

  “Will you be back before I go to bed?” Rhys asks, directing his gaze toward me.

  “Probably not, but I’ll be home early tomorrow night with pizza and a movie.” Me and Rhys designate one night a week to spend together. It’s kind of like a guys’ night out. Sometimes we go to the go-kart park, sometimes we go to a hockey game, and sometimes we watch a movie. It depends on what he wants to do. I look forward to our time together every week, and I like to think he does, too.

  “Be sure to get something good. No more animated stuff—I’m almost eleven, you know. I like a lot of action in my movies,” Rhys says as he turns and walks away.

  “Action?” I question.

  “Yeah, Dad, action—fast cars, maybe motorcycles, and hot chicks,” he replies as he continues his trek across the living room.

  “Hot chicks?” I mumble, looking at my brother. “You’re not allowed to babysit ever again. He’s ten, Leo. Ten. I’ve got plenty years ahead of me to worry about him and girls.”

  “Almost eleven, Dad. Almost eleven!” Rhys shouts just before he’s out of sight and back in the kitchen.

  “Dammit, Leo.”

  “What? It’s not like I let him watch porn, just a couple of those Terminal Impact movies. He’s mature for his age anyway.” Leo laughs. “I think they’re rated PG, so I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal,” he adds.

  I shake my head. “From now on, I have to approve any movie he watches with you. Do you understand?”

  “Damn, why are you being so sensitive about a movie?”

  “I’m not, but it’s my responsibility to make sure my son isn’t exposed to all that shit you like to watch. Like I said earlier, he’s ten, not your twenty-one-year-old buddy.”

  “Okay, you’re right. It’s sometimes hard to remember he’s just a kid. He acts so much older. Some of the stuff that comes out of his mouth….” Leo shakes his head and scratches his jaw. “I promise I’ll do better. Now, enough about Rhys and the shit he can’t do. You still haven’t told me where you’re going tonight.” Leo crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows.

  “Why is it so important for you to know what I’m doing tonight?”

  “It’s not important. I’m just curious, because for so many years, you’ve done nothing but work and take care of Mom and the kid. Now, suddenly, you’ve changed, and what makes it worse is that you’re being all secretive and shit. It makes me think you’re doing something illegal, or at least something you know we wouldn’t approve of.”

  “It’s not a big deal, but I’d appreciate you not talking to Mom about being worried about me or what I’m doing, because she never asks me where I’m going, and I don’t offer.” I suck in a deep breath and try to make myself relax. “I just don’t want her to worry, and I sure don’t want her to think I’m turning into our dad.”

  Leo leans against the wall beside the door and narrows his eyes. “Now you have to tell me, because if you’re doing anything that would make Mom worry you might be turning into Dad, it can’t be good. Spill the shit, Beau.”

  I release the door handle and lean against the wall, facing my brother.

  “It’s no big deal. I’m just going to Vic’s Place for a couple of hours.”

  Leo’s eyebrows rise skeptically. “Vic’s Place… really?”

  I nod, hoping this will be the end of it, but I’m pretty sure it’s just the beginning.

  “It’s not like you to hang out in a bar, and it’s Friday night, too, which makes it even more unusual.” He rotates his body to where his back is against the wall and he is no longer facing me.

  “Look, man, it is what it is.
I’m going out for a few hours. You know as well as I do that I’ve spent the past ten years doing nothing but take care of Rhys and running the shop. I think I’m entitled to a few nights out to relax and unwind from the day.”

  I’m a terrible person to stand here and lie to my brother like this. But what bothers me even more than lying to Leo is leaving Rhys with my mom and Hannah all the time. That kid is my life and has been for the last ten, almost eleven years. Damn, time flies. I still remember bringing him home from the hospital. I was only nineteen years old. How can he be almost eleven? It’s always been him and me against the world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “You’re not taking Barb out, or what’s the other one’s name?” Leo runs his hand through his hair and looks over in my direction.

  “Lisa,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, Lisa. I don’t know why I can never remember her name.”

  Barb and Lisa are two women I used to fuck when I needed to escape from the daily stress of life, but lately fucking doesn’t even help. To be honest, I’ve been so wrapped up in work that the last thing I want to do is listen to Barb complain about her shitty job or Lisa try to make our fucking into more than what it is. So, several months ago, I cut ties with both of them and decided to become reacquainted with my right hand and a bottle of lube. Works just as well without all the bitching, complaining, and begging. But Leo doesn’t need to know any of that. I’d rather he think I’m still fucking one or both of them.

  “No and no. I’m not meeting anyone there, I’m not taking anyone with me, and I’m not going to end up in some random chick’s bed. Is that enough information for you? Or do you have more questions?”

  “Don’t be such a dick about it, Beau. If the roles were reversed, you’d be on my ass, too.”

  “You’re probably right, but can we just drop it for now?”

  Leo doesn’t respond or even look over at me. Thank fuck. This conversation is over, at least for now. I jerk the door open and let it close behind me, just as Leo hollers, “Mom, what’s for dinner?”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief and head for my truck.

  7

  Emmie

  I’m not a big fan of beer or whiskey, but for some unknown reason, that’s all Vic’s Place serves. I would much rather have a glass of wine, but as the saying goes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. With that thought, I finish off the last bit of my second whiskey sour before placing my glass on the table.

  “Can I get you another?” the waitress asks as she snags my empty tumbler.

  “Hmm… yes, please.” I articulate the words nice and clear so she doesn’t mistake me for being drunk. I might be a little tipsy, but I’m not drunk. Definitely not drunk.

  She nods as she walks toward the next table.

  I check my phone for the tenth time in as many minutes to be sure Jane hasn’t texted me. Nope. The last message she sent was thirty minutes ago when she informed me that she would be late because Tristan was stuck in front of the computer resolving an issue for some guy on the other side of the globe. “Nice career choice, Tris,” I mumble to myself—not that anyone would hear me anyway. This place is packed and loud, which is unusual.

  Voices full of laughter surround me as I glance toward the end of the bar, looking for my waitress with anticipation that she has already retrieved my drink and is finding her way back to me.

  “Whiskey sour.”

  “That didn’t take long.” I glance at her over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, we have a bar in the back for nights like tonight when we’re super busy. It makes it a lot easier for the wait staff.” She grabs a napkin off her tray and places it on the table in front of me. “Add this to your tab?” Her voice is barely audible over the music blaring through the speaker above my head.

  I smile and nod. She moves to set my drink down, but I snag it from her hand and bring it to my lips. She forces a smile and moves on to her next stop.

  My eyes lift above the rim of the glass as the cool liquid slides down my throat. I do a quick scan of the bar, and that’s when I see him—Beau Matson. I’d never forget that face, or those silver eyes. I don’t recall anything about this man being forgettable, except for maybe his aloof personality, but I can deal with a little manly brooding if he promises to kiss every square inch of my body with those sexy lips. The thought of his mouth on my skin causes a shiver to race up my spine.

  He’s leaning against the bar with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other. A gray T-shirt hugs his broad chest, and it’s paired with dark jeans and square-toed work boots. I’ve never seen a man wear boots and jeans better. Actually, I don’t recall ever finding a man in boots and jeans attractive until now. A grin tugs at his mouth as he brings the bottle to his lips. God, he’s hot, but in such an unfamiliar way. His look is rough, rugged, and so damn sexy—completely different from my usual type. I wonder if he has a girlfriend because there’s no way a man who looks that good sleeps alone every night.

  A deep cough leaves my chest as I take a couple of quick breaths trying to move air into my lungs. Oh, God, I’m choking, in a bar full of people, with Beau standing only a few steps away. Breathe. Just breathe. After I drop what’s left of my drink on the table, I look to the right and then to the left before my gaze travels back to the bar, looking for Beau. But he’s gone. I stretch my neck as my eyes frantically search the entire room for him, hoping he was too wrapped up with whatever he was looking at on his phone to witness me almost drowning in my whiskey. I grab my phone and shove it into my purse as I spring up from my chair. Then I maneuver my way through the crowd, rushing toward the narrow hallway that houses the restrooms. Please, please, please let me make it to the bathroom before I’m thrown into a coughing fit.

  I slap my hand over my mouth as I shove the bathroom door open. The deep burning in my lungs causes the cough to go on and on until tears roll down my cheeks. I think I may be dying—at least that’s what it feels like. Bile races up my throat, so I immediately lurch toward the sink. It takes everything in me to force myself not to vomit, but it’s worth it, because vomiting in the sink would be disgusting and cleaning it up would be even worse.

  A petite blonde-haired lady appears from one of the two stalls located to my right. A flash of sheer terror crosses her face and the look in her eyes tells me she has decided against washing her hands.

  I make myself smile while maintaining eye contact with her, and say, “I’m fine.” God, who am I trying to convince, some nameless woman or myself? Because I really don’t feel fine.

  She looks away from me as she rushes out of the bathroom.

  I push myself up from the sink and grab a few paper towels to dry the tears from my face. Then I dig through my purse, searching for a mint so I can get this awful taste out of my mouth.

  “I gotta get out of here,” I mumble to myself. I can’t believe I’ve been sitting alone in a bar for almost an hour waiting on Jane. I should’ve just stayed home tonight. After checking myself once more in the mirror, I grab my vibrating phone from my purse as I head out the door and into the hallway.

  Looking down at the screen, I key in my code and read the text from Jane.

  Jane: I’m almost there! See ya in 5 :)

  “At this point, I don’t care that you’re only five minutes away.” I sneer as I type those exact words into my phone. I read my response and then delete the hateful words, because it’s not her fault I’ve had a shitty day. I stop walking and lean against the wall before retyping my reply.

  Me: Yay! See ya in a few!

  A grim smile finds my face. I’m going to be nice and have a good attitude. Jane and Tristan are coming here tonight to hang out with me. She could have changed her mind after I informed her about Andrew being a complete dick, but she didn’t. I should be thankful I have her. Let me clarify: I am thankful I have her, and Tristan, and Ava. They’re always around to save me from the train wreck that is my life.

  With my gaze still locked on my phone and my purse secu
red on my shoulder, I push off the wall to make my way back to my table. As I round the corner, I collide with what feels like a brick wall.

  “Ouch! Dammit, watch where you’re going,” I snap, my phone tumbling to the floor. “Oh my God! My phone!” I fume before even looking up to see who just trampled over me. My voice comes out harsh, even hateful, but I don’t care, because I’ve only had this phone for a couple of weeks. Shit. I bet the screen is shattered. I bend down to retrieve what’s left of it, and my eyes shift to the two brown square-toed boots directly in front of me. I draw in a deep breath and put my hand on the floor to keep from losing my balance. My heart’s beating so hard and fast I’m afraid it may explode. I suck in a deep breath as my mind speeds through every single thought I’ve had about Beau Matson since he stood in my parking lot earlier this week. Shit! I need to shut my brain off, because it’ll only make this encounter more difficult.

  I scoop up my phone and stand slowly. My bare legs brush against the roughness of his jeans and every nerve ending in my body stirs. My eyes trail up his jean-clad muscular legs, his firm chest, and finally his scruffy jawline. I wobble a little, almost losing my balance, and he places his strong, callused fingers on my waist to steady me.

  “Are you okay?” His voice is deep and laced with concern.

  I tilt my head back and stare into a silver gaze that shines bright with a pearly gray glow. The hint of concern I hear in his words is mirrored in his eyes. I suddenly don’t care if my phone’s broken. I don’t care that this guy is a mechanic who needs to shave, has callused hands, and a standoffish personality. All I care about is the way he’s looking at me right now, and this look—his look—makes me feel like he sees something in me other than a half-drunk girl standing in a dimly lit hallway with a man she doesn’t know, wishing more than anything that he would kiss her.