I tear my eyes away from the door and look at her. “A little late for that, do you think?”
She scowls. “Everything is so much worse this time. My feet are swollen, I can’t eat anything without heartburn, I have to pee all the time, and I can’t sleep. And if I survive all this, my reward is a screaming baby to go with my ornery one-year-old.”
“I thought you said Wyatt always gets the second nine months,” I say, shoving away from the bar and drawing another Bud for the guy on the stool next to the one I’ve saved for Lilah.
“I’m hauling it around for the first nine,” she says, heading for the kitchen, “so you damn well better believe it!”
I set his beer in front of him and realize he’s watching the door almost as intently as me.
“Dude, what happened to the entertainment?” he asks, gesturing with a nudge of his head at the empty stool.
My stomach tightens. “Damned if I know.”
I snap the towel off my shoulder and start wiping down the bar for the thousandth time tonight. My eyes track back to the door when it opens and I hold my breath. When my sister Brenda comes through with a guy I don’t recognize, I crack a smile. Not who I was hoping for, but the next best thing.
I give the patrons at the bar a quick glance to be sure they’re set, then head to the booth in the corner, where the guy ushers Brenda. There’s no way I’m not checking this guy out. The last guy she dated, this fucktard Nate, didn’t understand the word “no” and Brenda had to fight him off one night. Now he’s in jail on multiple counts of rape. It started when my ex-roommate’s sister, Blaire, came forward with something that happened way before Brenda. But once Blaire made the accusation, the dominoes started falling and seven other women, including Brenda, ended up testifying at his trial.
I sidle up to the table as they get settled and size the guy up. He’s blond, blue-eyed, and older than me by a few years, maybe pushing thirty. But he’s in decent shape and looks like he spends a fair amount of time in the sun, based on his tan.
I squeeze my sister’s shoulder. “Everything good at the gym?”
She scowls at me, knowing exactly why I’m here. “It hasn’t burnt down since you were there six hours ago.”
“I’m Bran,” I say, holding out my hand to the guy and giving my arms and chest their best flex. “Brenda’s older brother.”
“Trevor,” he says, pumping my hand. “Good to meet you.”
He’s got a faint southern twang. Nothing that would knock you over, but noticeable.
I nod. “Haven’t seen you around here.”
“Just took a position up at Sierra State this fall,” he says, letting go of my hand, “so I’m new to the area.”
“What position?” I push.
“I’ll have a Blue Moon,” Brenda says, kicking me under the table. When I turn my gaze on her, she’s lighting me up with a glare that could cut steel.
“It’s okay, Brenda. He’s just looking out for you,” Trevor says, and instantly, he gains a few rungs on the ladder. “I’m the new head groundskeeper, so none of that fancy academic stuff. Don’t have the brains for that.”
I slide into the booth next to Brenda and she elbows me. I can still feel the heat of her glower. “What’s your accent? Sounds southern.”
“Alabama born and bred.”
“So how’d you end up here?”
He shrugs. “Got divorced at the beginning of the year. It was kind of complicated and made staying in our hometown hard, so I decided if I had to move, may as well make it count.”
I think about asking why the divorce, but I’m not getting a “domestic violence” vibe from this guy so I let it drop.
“Okay, then.” I stand and give my hands a clap. “What can I get you to drink?”
Trevor waits for Brenda to order her beer, and as he’s asking for a Seagram’s and Seven, the door opens again.
My heart hiccups when it’s who I’ve been waiting for all night.
The stripe in Lilah’s hair is purple tonight, and when she shucks off her hoodie, she’s in a tight pink tank top with a black bra underneath and a short black skirt. Miles of toned, tanned legs stretch down to a pair of short black boots.
I want to map every inch of those legs with my tongue.
Her eyes lock on mine and I’m suddenly electrocuted. My synapses overload and I stop dead in my tracks and just stare.
“Hey,” she says.
I force myself to breathe and start my feet moving. We walk to the bar together without looking at each other.
“Thought you weren’t coming,” I say as I round the corner and start on Brenda’s drinks.
I’m not totally successful keeping the frustrated undercurrent out of my voice, and I know she hears it when her eyes narrow as she sets her guitar on the stool.
“I wasn’t.”
“Why?”
She goes back to unpacking her guitar. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating my sister?”
“Because I’m not.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “That’s not what she says.”