The Buy-In (Graham Brothers #1)

The only butt Val’s interested in is Chevy’s. And I think he’s the only one in town who doesn’t know it.

“Plus, it is about butts. Lindy needs our help kicking some butts out of town.”

Val looks confused.

“No actual butts will be kicked,” I say.

“Figurative butt-kicking only.” With Winnie, it’s hard to know—it could go either way. Honestly, I’d kind of love to unleash Winnie’s five-foot-two fury on Pat.

Val puts both hands on her hips. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

I let Winnie explain about the fight at Backwoods Bar as we walk up the steps to the municipal building. This is the only building besides the library not falling apart, solely because the Waters family pays to keep it up. They have a massive plaque out front. I suspect someone comes by to polish it every morning. As we walk by, I swear I can see my pores in the shiny reflection.

The metal detectors in the lobby are a stark contrast to the balusters and curved wooden railing for the grand staircase leading upstairs to the courthouse and mayor’s office.

“I’m back, Burt!” Winnie calls. The security guard, who also happens to be Judge Judie’s husband, hops down from his stool and runs a hand over his mustache.

“Lindy, Val. What brings you two down this fine morning?”

“They’re visiting inmates,” Winnie says.

“Sounds like a good time,” he says. Val sets her purse on the conveyor belt, and Burt sighs. “You don’t still carry that knife in your boot, do you, Val?”

Val laughs and wiggles one bare foot at him. “Of course not. I upgraded to a taser.”

Burt picks up her purse, shaking his head. “You can’t bring a taser in here, Val.”

“Don’t worry. I left it in my car.”

Too bad. It might have come in handy.

Burt clears us, and we walk straight ahead through the double doors leading to the sheriff’s office. Like the mayor, our town sheriff is elected, and also like the mayor, the sheriff is totally worthless. We’ve been hoping Chevy will run for office one of these days, but so far, he doesn’t seem so inclined. It’s not that he’s lazy, exactly, more that he seems very comfortable with the status quo.

Before we walk in, Val pulls me to a stop. “Are you sure you want to tell Pat to leave?”

“Yes,” Winnie and I say at the same time.

“But why? Didn’t he apologize?”

After the LLLS meeting, I filled my friends in on running into Pat and our conversation on my porch. Val, ever the romantic, thinks I should give him a second chance, while Winnie is more of the mind we should set fire to his car.

“Valentina,” Winnie says, shaking her head. “An apology isn’t enough.”

Val heaves a frustrated sigh. “But if you gave him a chance—”

“No more chances.” I shake my head. “I don’t have time for that.”

“I wish you’d stop feeling like you have to take on the whole world alone. Both of you.” Val points between me and Winnie. “The two of you kill me sometimes. You are both strong women—good for you! But being strong doesn’t mean you don’t need other people. You can’t hide away forever in your tall towers. At some point, people are going to stop showing up, asking you to let down your hair.”

“I’m not doing that,” I say. Am I?

Winnie only smirks. “I like my tower. I have a fantastic Wi-Fi signal. Plus, I’ve got you two. And Dale. What more do I need?”

Val and I carefully do not meet each other’s eyes. Because, honestly? We’re both more than a little mystified by Dale and Winnie. They’ve been together almost a year, and I know as much about him now as I did the night we met. Because … there’s just not much to know. He’s an accountant in Austin. Handsome. Nice. Gentlemanly. And a big ol’ snoozefest. But he seems to make Winnie happy. Or—content? So, we do our best to be supportive.

“Lindy, you only ask for help when you’re desperate. We would help more—if you let us.”

“I asked for help today, didn’t I?”

Val rolls her eyes. “Yes, but you also didn’t tell us about Pat the moment you saw him.”

“I was processing! Anyway, I’ll do better asking for help, okay? Starting now. Help me kick my ex out of town?” When Val looks like she’s going to argue again, I add, “If you won’t do it for me, for Jo. She’s already imprinting on the man like a little baby duck. Imagine how it will be if he leaves her.” I mime being stabbed in the heart.

“Ugh. Fine,” Val says. “But let the record show I disagree with this decision.”

“Duly noted,” Winnie says. “Now, let’s move. We’re burning daylight, people.” She pushes through the doors leading us into the small sheriff’s department.

Before I step inside, I do a quick mental check on the custom-made bulletproof vest I keep around my heart. I started its construction after dad left and then continued with Rachel. After Pat left me, I zipped that baby up tight. To get through today and the week after and probably the week after, I need this trusty vest firmly in place around my heart. I will tell Pat to go, leaving me one less problem. One less person who seems intent on breaking through my barriers, on breaking me.

“Ladies,” Chevy greets us as we walk inside. He is the only one on duty in the open room, which has a few desks, a break room off to the side, and two holding cells at the very back which immediately try to grab my attention.

Don’t look. Don’t look. DO NOT LOOK.

It’s like I can sense Pat’s presence like an electromagnetic field around me. The room feels different because he’s here. The air feels different. I feel different.

Which is ridiculous and also needs to stop NOW.

I force myself to keep my eyes fixed on Chevy. “Hello, Chev.” Winnie greets him with a hip check that makes him stumble a few steps.

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