Читать книгу A Brevia Beginning - Michelle Major, Michelle Major - Страница 8

Chapter Two

Scott felt someone poking at him, but couldn’t force his eyes to open. “Go away,” he mumbled.

A shower of ice-cold water hit his face. He sat up, sputtering and rubbing his hands across his eyes. Water dripped from his hair and chin.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”

“I’m going to kill you,” he said with a hiss of angry air, then looked around. He was on a worn leather couch in a small office, the shelves surrounding him dusty and lined with kitchen equipment. “Where am I?”

Sam handed him a towel. “You passed out. Luke Trujillo called me at three in the morning, laughing his butt off. He said he offered you a ride, but you insisted you wanted to spend the night in your bar. When did you get back into town?”

“Last night.”

“You didn’t call. Does Dad know you’re here?”

“Not yet.” Scott covered his eyes with the towel, under the guise of drying off his hair. “I didn’t call because our last family get-together didn’t exactly end on good terms.”

Memories of the previous evening came back to him in full force. When he was certain he had his features schooled to a blank mask, he lowered the towel. “But I’m a big boy, Sam. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Are you kidding?” His brother paced back and forth across the worn rug between the couch and an oversize oak desk on the far wall. “You didn’t know where you were a minute ago.”

“I was disoriented. It happens.”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“It was a misunderstanding. The guy was being a jerk about serving me, so I gave him a song and dance about wanting to buy this place.”

Sam grabbed a piece of paper from the desk and shoved it toward Scott. “This isn’t a song and dance. It’s a contract for purchase and sale. You gave him a down-payment check for fifty grand. Luke has wanted to sell for over a year now. To hear him tell it, the place is a money pit. He’s got family in Florida. Hell, he’s probably already packing his bags.”

As Scott read the words on the paper, his head pounded even harder. The contract had his signature on the bottom, along with Luke Trujillo’s and one other. In neat, compact writing was the name Lexi Preston scrawled above the word Witness on the last line.

The pixie waitress-attorney from last night. Clear green eyes and the shimmer of red hair stole across his mind. Wanting to impress her. Wanting to keep drinking. His two main objectives from late last night. Now, in the harsh light of morning, he realized how stupid and impulsive he’d been.

Again.

Most of the trouble—and there was a lot of it—Scott had in life was a result of being impulsive. He led with his emotions, anger being the top of that list. Normally, he wouldn’t let himself slow down enough to care about the consequences. But the botched arrest two months ago, a direct result of his poor judgment, had put him on the sidelines of his own life. It drove him crazy, although he wouldn’t have that discussion with Sam.

“I know you’re still getting a paycheck and Dad says you’ve done well on investments, but it’s a lot of cash, Scott. What are you going to do when you go back to the Marshal Service? I don’t want to see you throw your money away like this.”

Sam was the by-the-book brother, the one who’d always done the right thing. The responsible Callahan. At least, that was how it had been after their mother died. But a lot of years had passed since then. Scott was a grown-up now and he wasn’t about to admit that he’d messed up yet again.

“I bought a bar. So what?” He threw the towel onto the floor by the couch and combed his hands through his hair. “I can afford it.”

“That’s not the point,” his brother argued.

“Sam, I’m a big boy. I know what I’m doing. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you, but you’re going to have to trust me on this.” He walked past his brother and down the short hall to the bar’s main room. He couldn’t let Sam see how in over his head he felt. He’d done a lot of stupid things in his life, but last night might take the cake. What had felt warm and inviting then now just looked in need of a good scrubbing. The wood floors were scratched and dull and the tables mismatched, several sporting a layer of grime years thick. The place definitely had more charm in the half dark.

“I don’t have much of a reason to trust you, and I definitely don’t trust Lexi Preston.”

Scott spun around, then winced as the abrupt movement made his head hurt more. “What about Lexi?” he asked, not willing to address the issue of trust between him and Sam this early in the morning.

“She represented the family who tried to take away Charlie from Julia.”

“I don’t understand.” Scott had immediately fallen for Julia’s toddler son. He didn’t know Julia well, but it was clear she was a natural mother. “I thought the ex-boyfriend’s family was from Ohio. What’s the attorney doing in Brevia? Julia got full custody.”

Julia had been embroiled in the custody case when she and Sam were first together. Being with Julia had stopped Sam from taking a job Scott had helped arrange for him with the U.S. Marshals. It had been Scott’s big attempt to repair his relationship with his brother, and it had felt like one more rejection when Sam had chosen Julia instead. Scott hadn’t quite forgiven her for that, but it hadn’t prevented him from forming a quick affection for the boy.

Sam shook his head, frustration evident in the tense line of his shoulders. “I don’t understand, either. She got to town yesterday with some sob story about how she needs a fresh start. Julia may talk tough but she’s a total softy at heart. She helped Lexi get the job and is renting the woman her old apartment.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” Scott asked, his mind suddenly on sharp alert. Julia was family now. He protected family, even if his methods were sometimes unorthodox.

Sam shook his head. “I want that woman to stay away from all of us. I don’t like the fact that she was involved in this mess with you.”

Scott bristled at Sam’s condescending tone. “I told you, I can take care of myself. I don’t know if she has ulterior motives coming to town, but Lexi Preston didn’t influence my decision to buy this bar.”

“She let you enter into a contract when you were drunk.”

“Who said I was drunk last night? Maybe I bought this place as an investment. It’s an historic building and—”

“You’re not fooling me. I know the Marshals incident messed with your head. I know you’ve been drinking more than normal and your normal is pretty damn much.” Sam took a step closer. “I think you need help.”

Blood roared through Scott’s head. He hadn’t been back in Brevia twenty-four hours and Sam was already starting another referendum on how messed up he was. He couldn’t afford to debate whether it was true. Not yet.

“Get out.” He spoke the words slowly, without any of the emotion swirling through his gut.

“Scott, listen—”

“No, Sam, you listen.” Scott began straightening chairs around the various tables, needing something—anything—to do with his hands. Needing to take some action. “The incident didn’t mess with my head. It killed a good man. Maybe I use alcohol to dull the memories of that more than I should. But I’m not out of control. I walked away when it was clear that part of the internal investigation meant me smearing my dead partner’s reputation. I don’t know right now if I’ll go back. So I bought this place. It’s an investment. Not one that you would make, but it’s my money and my life. Back off. Go home to Julia and Charlie. I don’t need you here.”

The sound of the chairs scraping against the wood floor gave welcome relief to the silence that stretched between the brothers. Finally, Scott stopped and looked over. “I mean it. I’m fine.”

Sam gave a curt nod. “I’m here, Scott. When you do need me, I’m here.” He turned and walked out of the bar into the bright morning.

As the door swung shut behind him, Scott turned a chair around and sank into it, massaging his forehead with two fingers.

What the hell was he going to do now?

* * *

Lexi tried to ignore the pounding on the apartment door. As she stared, arms folded tightly across her chest, the noise grew. Had her father had a change of heart already, prepared to forgive her supposed lapse in judgment if she came home and continued to do his bidding? It was late morning and she’d already unpacked her few belongings and made a run to the local grocery for essential supplies. As silly as it seemed, she’d just gotten a taste of freedom and didn’t want to give it up so soon.

She also didn’t want her neighbors to worry or, worse, call Julia or Sam. Taking a fortifying gulp of air, she turned the knob and opened the door.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Scott Callahan loomed in the doorway, irritation and a healthy five-o’clock shadow etched on his handsome face. He was still wearing the same casual sweater and wrinkled jeans from the night before. She looked for the resemblance to Julia’s husband, Sam, figuring it was too much of a coincidence to have two Callahans in the same small town.

She’d been shocked when he’d told her his name as she was putting together the contract for sale last night. Although Scott’s hair was dark, the two men shared the same brilliant blue eyes, strong jaw and towering height that made them both intimidating and undeniably male.

She took an involuntary step back, hating the blush creeping up her cheeks. Why did this man rattle her so much?

That was easy enough to answer. Just the sight of him made her long-dormant imagination kick into high gear. His hair just grazed his collar, his blue eyes made brighter by the contrast to long lashes that any woman would envy. He was beautiful, the kind of handsome that would attract female attention wherever he went.

Men who looked like Scott Callahan didn’t notice Lexi, and last night he’d certainly noticed her. At least it had felt that way. He’d leaned in and his eyes had caught on her mouth as if he wanted to kiss her. She’d imagined what that kiss would feel like as she lay in her bed in the wee morning hours, watching dawn through the curtains in her bedroom. She could almost taste his lips on hers even now.

Now.

She blinked and cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”

He lifted one long arm to rest on the door frame, muscles bunching under his sweater. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. He seemed a lot less irritated than he had a few moments earlier. “What’s your story, Lexi Preston? You look shy and talk like an academic, but you’ve got a wild side. I can tell.”

She hugged her arms more tightly around herself. “You can tell no such thing.”

“I can tell you want me to kiss you.”

She sputtered, “I do not.”

“Liar.” He took a lazy step toward her. “But that’s not going to happen. Yet.”

Lexi was shocked by the ripple of disappointment that rolled through her. “What do you want?” she repeated. “I’m guessing this isn’t an official employee meeting.”

He pulled a sheet of paper out of his back pocket. “I want to know why you let me sign this damn contract.”

“You told me to write it up. I didn’t let you do anything. In fact, I advised you not to sign it.”

“I was drunk.”

She cocked her head to one side and studied him. The rumpled clothes, the hint of bruising under his eyes. “You said you weren’t.”

“I hide it well.”

No wonder he’d been flirting with her. It was the alcohol, not attraction. Of course. A guy as hot as Scott would definitely need beer goggles to flirt with her. “I warned you about due consideration. You assured me you were in full control of your faculties and able to make a rational decision.”

“I want out.” He came all the way into the apartment, filling it with his large, muscular body and...sheesh, she had a one-track mind.

“The bank has to draw up the final contract. Maybe you won’t be approved for the loan.”

“I can guarantee I’ll be approved, so I want out now.”

A whistle sounded from behind her. “It’s not that easy.” She turned on her heel and padded to the kitchen, pulling two cups from the cabinet. She dropped a tea bag in each and poured the hot water. Turning back, she handed one to Scott. He eyed it suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“Green tea. It helps me think.” She took a small sip. “Explain to Luke Trujillo that you were inebriated last night. The contract won’t hold up if you signed it under the influence. I’m sure Tina will vouch for how many drinks you had over a normal limit.”

“That’s the problem. No one can know I was drunk.”

“Why not?”

He brought the mug to his mouth, sniffed and made a face. “You’re kidding with this, right? Where’s the coffee?”

“I don’t drink coffee. Green tea is full of antioxidants.”

“You’re an attorney and a health nut? That’s some combination.”

“My father says... Never mind.” She took another drink. “Don’t be a baby. It’s just tea.” She studied him intently. “Why do you want to hide that you were drunk?”

“I’m not a baby,” he said and took a huge gulp of tea. “That’s disgusting.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“You’re such a lawyer.” He shook his head and reached around her to place the mug on the counter. “My brother’s already given me grief about last night. I don’t need him on my back for anything else.”

“Are the two of you close?”

“Not a bit.”

She raised the cup to her lips again, then lowered it as her mind raced. “If you’re not close, why do you—”

“It’s complicated.”

Lexi could just imagine. She’d known him for less than twenty-four hours, but Scott Callahan was already the most intriguing man she’d ever met. At first glance he was all alpha-male bravado, but she sensed something more. His eyes had a haunted look that wasn’t related to a hangover, but might have everything to do with a bone-deep loneliness. The kind of lonely people felt if they thought no one in the world truly loved them. As if they had no home.

The kind of lonely Lexi often saw reflected in her own eyes.

She had nothing in common with this man, but she wanted to reach out to him. She yearned to understand what made someone who appeared so sure of himself at the same time give off waves of uncertainty.

She wanted to really know him.

As if he could read her intention, his eyes turned cold. “Never mind. I’ll figure something out.” His voice cut through her thoughts. “Luke gave me a fair price and I’ve got the time and money to deal with it. Maybe I’ll redo the whole thing and sell it for a hefty profit.” His words were sure but his tone still held a hint of uncertainty.

“If you didn’t want to own a bar, why did you buy it?”

“I don’t know.” He ran his hand through his almost-black hair. “I’m known for being impulsive. It’s my trademark.”

There must be more to the story, but as much as she wanted to know, it wasn’t any of her business. Yet. “I never do anything impulsive.”

“That’s not how I heard it.” He glanced over her shoulder at the tray of half-full glasses sitting on the kitchen table. “Here you are, a fancy-pants corporate attorney, renting my sister-in-law’s apartment, practicing to be a bar waitress in this sleepy Southern town. Are you telling me this is some sort of master plan?”

She almost smiled. “I guess you’re right. I’ve been pretty impulsive in the last couple of days.”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’m going to take it as one, anyway.” She placed her mug on the counter. When she turned back, Scott had stepped closer. Too close. Close enough that she could smell toothpaste on his breath and the musky scent of last night’s cologne on his shirt.

“If you want to get impulsive, I can help.” He reached his hand up and trailed the pad of his thumb along her jaw. “I’m an expert at impulsive.”

“I’m not that kind of girl,” she whispered, hating that he broke straight through to her earlier longing.

“I can’t figure out what kind of girl you are.” His mouth turned up at the corner. “But I know you’re the worst waitress I’ve ever seen.” He straightened, dropping his hand. “I’m the boss now. So you’d better practice all day with those glasses. Because you helped get me into this mess and I’m not going to let you cost me more money every night. Luke may have owed Julia a favor, but I don’t owe anyone anything.”

Lexi sucked in a breath. “Are you threatening to fire me?”

“It’s no threat,” Scott told her. “I’m sure you’ve got a corner office waiting for you somewhere. I don’t care why you’re slumming it in a bar. But it’s mine now. I don’t play favorites. Show up a half hour early for your shift tonight. We’re having an employee meeting.”

He turned and headed for her door.

“This is because you’re mad that I wrote the contract. You want to blame me. It’s not fair.”

He held up one hand and ticked off several points. “I’m mad that I signed the contract. I blame myself for that, but I don’t appreciate you being a part of that moment. And if you haven’t realized it before, life isn’t ever fair. Deal with it.”

Without looking back, he strode from her apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.