Want You Page 20

  “Nice, dude.”

  Foster snorted. “You’re lucky I fit you in. You owe me, so I hope this woman is worth it.”

  Everyone knew Foster was fiercely loyal to Deb. Despite the fact that there was nothing going on between them and hadn’t been for a long time, there were still people in Glory Junction who assumed they’d wind up together. It was the quirk of a small town.

  “I appreciate it, Foster. Anything you need, man, I’ll make it happen.”

  Another snort. “Six-foot-two, financially independent, and not a lot of baggage.”

  “That’s sort of a tall order, don’t you think? But let me see what I can do.” Win slid his credit card toward the cash register. “I’m bringing Britney to the party Saturday. Deb’ll be cool with it, won’t she?”

  Foster glowered at him. “She’s over you.”

  But on Win’s way out of the store, Foster whistled the tune of “It’s My Party.”

  Foster just wanted to bust his chops.

  The police station was next to Sweet Stems and Win decided to pop in on Colt, who, against his doctor’s orders, had gone back to work. Anyone without an appointment had to get by Carrie Jo, who was harder to breach than a razor-wire fence.

  “Did you bring those for me?” She reached for his bouquet and he yanked it away.

  “Nope, but maybe I should’ve.” He eyed her up and down. “You’re looking good, Carrie Jo.”

  “And you’re a flirty tramp. Your brother’s in his office. Go ahead in.”

  Win walked in to find Colt fumbling with a roll of wire ribbon. “What’re you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? Put your finger here,” he told Win and attempted to tie a bow on a poorly wrapped package covered with hearts.

  Win did as Colt asked. “Ow, that hurts. What, did you forget to get Delaney something for Valentine’s Day?”

  “What, did you forget I had a near miss with death?”

  “Exaggeration much?” Win grabbed the ribbon away from Colt, tied the bow, and plopped down on the couch.

  Colt assessed his flowers. “You should give me those.”

  “Not happening, dude. They’re for Britney.”

  “Mom says you’ve got your first doctor’s appointment in a few weeks. How you doing with all this?”

  “Fine.” Win hoped if he said it enough times it would be true.

  Colt studied him for a while, then nodded. “You don’t have a tour today?”

  “I did this morning at the ass crack of five in the backcountry. I’m done for the day and am heading to Tahoe. You and Delaney have big plans?”

  “Dinner at home. She’s worried I’ll faint from too much exertion.” He made a mocking face. “What about you?”

  “No plans in particular.” As usual, Britney was being cagey. First she had to work, then she didn’t. He figured he’d pick up a pizza and a quart of ice cream.

  Colt kicked his feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair. “TJ have any plans?”

  “Not that I know of. Is he seeing that Karen chick?” Lately, he and TJ had been like two strangers passing in the night. Win supposed they both had a lot on their mind. TJ had been immersed in the new website and launching the online store and Win had a baby on the way.

  “Dunno. He’s not a sharer like the rest of us.”

  Win laughed, got up, walked over to Colt, and gave him a noogie. “Just came to see if you were still kicking. Looks like my work here is done.”

  “Have fun in Tahoe, asshole.”

  Win flipped him the bird and went on his way. His Jeep was parked on the street in front of GA. He loaded it with his Glorious Gifts bag and the flowers and made the thirty-minute drive to Tahoe. Cami was outside her condo, getting her mail, when he got there. She did a finger-wave thing and tried to flirt with him.

  “Those for Britney?” she asked, cocking her head at his Valentine’s Day gifts.

  No, they were for Steph Curry. “Nothing gets past you, Cami.” He tried to sound teasing and made a straight line for Britney’s door.

  “She’s not home.”

  He rang the bell.

  Cami came over to the little fence that separated the two condos and hung her head over.

  “She left about thirty minutes ago.”

  “She’s probably getting us dinner,” he lied, feeling like a goddamn idiot. Not two hours ago they’d made plans for him to come over.

  “It looked like she was going out for the evening to me.” Cami gave a small shrug and walked away.

  He waited for her to go inside her place, went back to his Jeep, and called Britney. “Where are you?” he asked when she finally answered.

  “Out with a few friends, having drinks.”

  “We had plans.” He gritted his teeth. And why the hell are you drinking?

  “Jeez, I’ll be home in twenty minutes. You’re so uptight.” There was music blaring in the background.

  He pulled the phone away from his ear and counted to ten. Uptight? Most people would say he was the polar opposite. “I went to a lot of trouble and I don’t like getting stood up.”

  “Fine, I’ll come home, then.” She was walking because he suddenly heard the dinging of slot machines.

  “Are you okay to drive?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Win. There’s a key under the mat; make yourself at home.” She hung up, and for a second he thought about motoring right back to Glory Junction. But he had to make this work. For the kid’s sake.

  He returned to her unit, hoping like hell to avoid Cami, and found the key. Inside, he put the flowers in water, scared up a number for a pizza delivery joint, and put in an order. The kid said to expect an hour or more wait. What did he expect? He got a beer out of her fridge and turned on the TV. She had a sixty-five-inch flat-screen in the great room and another one in her bedroom. He flipped through the channels and found a show on bull riding. Now, that was something he’d like to try.

  Thirty, forty minutes later, she walked in the door. “Are you over your snit?”

  She took off her stilettos and dropped them on the floor. He couldn’t believe this was the woman he was winding up with. The girls he’d always dated wore hiking boots. He preferred it that way.

  “Why did you tell me to meet you here if you were planning to go out with your friends?” It was inconsiderate, not to mention flakey.

  “It was a last-minute thing,” she said and sat on the couch with him, cuddling under his arm. “What did you get me for Valentine’s Day?”

  “It’s on the counter.” He nudged his head at the kitchen.

  She rocketed up and went to have a look. “The flowers are pretty.” She dug through the Glorious Gifts bag, took out the card, read it, and put it to the side. Her hand reached into the bag again and pulled out the box of chocolates, her expression doing an instant cliff dive.

  “You don’t like candy?” Win asked.

  She pushed the box next to the card, her disappointment evident. “I do, but given that I’m pregnant with your child, I was expecting something glittery.”

  “I told you I’d get you an engagement ring.” Lord knew, she’d insist on the biggest one she could get her hands on. Another thing he missed about the women he used to date. They were down to earth, not all about the bling.

  “That shouldn’t count.” She pouted. “This should’ve been something for just me. Something special.” And something expensive, Win added to himself.

  Jesus Christ, she was demanding. And materialistic. “I’m not made of money, Britney, and whatever I have we should use for a house.”

  She waved her hand around the condo. “I have a house.”

  It was a one-bedroom without a backyard. Not exactly a place to raise a kid. But it wasn’t worth fighting about right now, not while she simmered over the fact that he hadn’t bought her the Hope Diamond.

  She was starting to bust on his last nerve. And with each and every day, it was becoming abundantly clear that he was embarking on a freakin�
�� nightmare.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The moment TJ met Britney Sheldon, he had a visceral dislike for her. It wasn’t just the way she’d asked Darcy to get her a drink as if she was part of the waitstaff or her ostentatious habit of shoving the rock Win had given her under everyone’s nose. Everything about her felt like a user.

  She’d walked into the party and sized up Garner Adventure like she was calculating its worth, tabulating the net value of every piece of furniture and person in the place. She seemed to turn her nose up at the casualness of the event, especially the food. Boden had catered all Deb’s favorites. Pub fries, chicken wings, sliders, and onion rings. Win had brought Britney a plate and she’d whined that she didn’t want grease to get on her clothes. But most of all, he didn’t like how she’d given their mom the cold shoulder.

  Mary had opened her arms to give Britney a hug and Win’s fiancée had pushed right past her for a glass of champagne. TJ wasn’t even sure if she was supposed to be drinking. But as the future mother of TJ’s niece or nephew, he didn’t want to judge Britney too harshly and fervently hoped she just made a lousy first impression.

  “I hate her.” Darcy sidled up next to him. Their little mouse of a receptionist was learning how to roar. Tonight, he liked it. “She’s mean to Win.”

  “Win can take care of himself. Walk with me.” He wanted a beer and there was a keg out back. When they were away from everyone, he asked, “Any other impressions?” Clearly, Darcy was one of those still-waters-run-deep people. She’d certainly called him on Deb.

  She rubbed her hands together. It was chilly. “I’m pretty sure she’s a gold digger.”

  TJ was pretty sure she was right. He let out a breath. “Then she’s gonna be disappointed.” Garner Adventure was a prosperous business, but it was far from a Fortune 500 company, and from the looks of Britney’s fur jacket and designer clothes, she had some expensive habits. But Delaney would know better about that kind of stuff. Maybe it was all knockoffs. In any event, if Britney thought she was marrying into the likes of the Walton family, she was sadly mistaking.

  Especially now. Stanley Royce wasn’t going away and the retail experiment hadn’t gotten nearly the amount of orders he’d projected. Over the last week, he’d been in freak-out mode.

  “She doesn’t even act like she likes Win,” Darcy said.

  TJ laughed because under normal circumstances it would’ve been poetic justice. Women had always slavered over his love-’em-and-leave-’em brother. “It’s out of our control, Darcy. What about Deb; you think she’s having a good time?”

  “Uh-huh.” She gave him a long appraisal, started to say something, and stopped herself. Then settled for, “It’s a nice party. Hannah, Foster, and Delaney must be really good friends for all the effort they put in.”

  “They did a great job.” He filled both their cups and got Darcy in before she froze.

  As she drifted off to talk to someone, he thought about how he wanted to give her that promotion. But if Stanley got his way, that probably wasn’t going to happen. Hell, at the rate they were going, he wouldn’t be able to justify Deb’s position much longer. Tonight, though, wasn’t the time to think about it. He didn’t want to ruin the party.

  He scanned the room, searching for Deb, and spotted her talking to Foster, her head back, laughing. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and her eyes sparkled and he felt his pulse quicken. Looking at her now, she reminded him of high school. At the time, she’d been a freshman frantically trying to remember her locker combination as she fumbled with the dial. With four years under his belt, he knew how to crack a locker without knowing the number sequence. Much to the consternation of the faculty, he and his friends did it all the time.

  “You need help, Little Debbie?”

  “Don’t call me that. But yeah.” She’d looked up at the clock on the wall with those big, brown eyes of hers, scared of being late, and then back at him. “Please.”

  One well-placed punch with the side of his fist and the locker door popped right open.

  “Thank you.” And for one fleeting second, he’d been her hero.

  Colt slapped him on the back, pulling him from his memories. “What are you staring at? You’re looking over there like you’re love sick for Fost—” His mouth went slack. “Holy shit, no way. Deb?”

  “Everyone’s waiting for the band.” TJ tried to walk away, but Colt jerked him by the arm.

  “No, you don’t.” Colt pulled him into a quiet corner. “This explains why you gave her the job at GA.”

  “I gave her the job because I thought she’d be good at it and Lauren didn’t want it. Don’t read shit into stuff that isn’t there.”

  “You’re lying,” Colt said. “I don’t know how I missed it, I don’t know how any of us missed it, but it all makes sense. Ah, Jesus, this has been going on for a while, like maybe forever, hasn’t it?”

  “There’s nothing going on. She’s always been Win’s.”

  Colt looked at him for a long time. Too long. “So you admit you’ve got a thing for her?”

  “What does it matter?” TJ tried to walk away, but Colt wouldn’t let him.

  “Does she know?”

  How could she not? “I don’t think so.”

  “You should tell her, TJ.”

  “She wanted Win, not me.”

  “Win’s out of the picture.” Colt gazed over at Britney, who was standing against the rock wall, looking terminally bored while she texted on her phone.

  “I don’t want to be Win’s sloppy seconds.” This time he did walk away.

  “Or are you just afraid to take a risk?” Colt jogged after him. “We all know that’s why you didn’t make the Olympics team. You were a better skier than Win—hell, you’re a better skier than me—you were more dedicated, and you have more fire in your belly than anyone I know.”

  Hannah and Delaney were headed toward them. TJ glared at Colt. “You really want to do this now?”

  “Ready to get the music started?” Hannah exchanged a glance with Delaney. “Something wrong?”

  If Colt opened his fat mouth, TJ was going to deck him.

  Colt shoved his hand through his hair. “Nope. Let me get the rest of the band.” As he walked away, he whispered to TJ, “Tell her.”

  Hannah and Delaney followed after Colt and TJ went over to the food table to grab a slider. He hadn’t eaten all night. Rachel stood there, perusing the offerings.

  “Why didn’t they have me do the food and not just the cake?”

  Ah, was this going to be a war between Old Glory and Tart Me Up? Somebody spare me, please. “I wasn’t in charge, Rach, otherwise I would’ve chosen you for sure.” He hoped Boden hadn’t heard that. The truth was, he liked both places equally.

  “Thanks, TJ.” She plucked a ministeak sandwich from one of the platters and took a bite. “A little overdone, but not bad.”

  “What are you talking about?” Boden came up from behind them and pointed at her sandwich. “That right there is a perfectly cooked medium-rare piece of meat.”

  Time to exit. On his way to get a beer refill, he could still hear the two of them bickering. Colt and his band were warming up on the makeshift stage. Hannah, Foster, and Delaney had rented a dance floor and within the hour, the place would be loud and sweaty. That was when TJ planned to make a discreet getaway.

  He’d come for Deb but wasn’t in the mood to party. Outside, he found the birthday girl alone, pumping the keg.

  “I’ll do that,” he said and took her place. “You look great, by the way.”

  She had on a little black velvet number, black stockings, and high heels. The outfit should’ve been outlawed in all fifty states.

  “Thank you. You too. I like the bolo tie.” She handed him her cup. “What’s up with Darcy? She seems more flustered around me than usual.”

  “She thought we were fooling around the other day when she and Karen walked in on us.”

  “We weren’t, at least not that time
.”

  “Nope, not that time.” He held her gaze until she looked away.

  “What do you think of Britney?” she asked. Nice change of subject.

  “Too soon to tell.” He wanted to be loyal to Win. “You?”

  “She seems nice.”

  “Liar.” He grinned and filled both their glasses.

  “God, she’s awful.” She pretended to shudder. “Are you going to dance with me?”

  “Nope. I’m gonna go home.”

  “You can’t.” She tugged on his arm, making him slosh beer on his boots. “Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”

  He wasn’t in a rush because the cold was doing nice things to Deb’s breasts. But he followed her inside anyway. The band had started and they were just in time to catch the tail end of a Rolling Stones’ song.

  “It’s my birthday and you have to dance with me. It’s the rule.”

  He wasn’t aware of any such rule. “Where does it say that?”

  “In the Bible. Come on,” she cajoled. “It won’t kill you. We can make it a slow one if you’re worried about your moves.”

  He wasn’t much of a dancer, but slow sounded nice.

  “Okay, one dance. But that’s it.”

  Colt played another fast song. The Beatles’ “Birthday,” and TJ shook his head. He wanted a slow one. Hannah and Delaney got Deb, and the three of them danced together. Deb swayed, moving her hips from side to side. He liked watching her, and a couple of X-rated images flashed in his head, which he tried to block without much success.

  Midway through the tune, Deb grabbed Darcy. Who knew their diminutive, shy receptionist could dance? But she strutted her stuff across the dance floor. It was the first time TJ had seen Win smile all evening. No Garner man was immune to four ultrahot women wiggling around in short dresses.

  He gazed across the room and spied Britney snagging another glass of champagne and wondered if she had a drinking problem. Maybe two well-spaced drinks over the course of the night were okay for a pregnant woman; TJ didn’t know. But she was slamming them one right after the other. And that couldn’t be good.

  He glanced over at Win, who got up, walked over to the bar, and whispered something in her ear. Britney put the glass down, but TJ saw deep resentment in her body language. She was fuming.