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  I didn’t take the money. I couldn’t even look at it without my chest tightening in a way that felt an awful lot like humiliation. “I can buy her lunch.”

  “I’m her boss. Just take it.”

  Fuck and no. “I’ve got it.”

  Deacon smiled, the lift of his brow a warning. “That’s what I thought.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t like the idea of another man paying for her.”

  “No,” I spat, the word exploding from my mouth. “That’s not what this is.”

  “Sure, it is. Your pride won’t take that hit.”

  “Shut up, Deacon.”

  “You shut up.”

  “No, you shut up.”

  “Why don’t you both shut up?” Jinx said, strolling into the office and frowning at the two of us. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Nothing,” I said, refusing to look her in the eye. “We were just talking about lunch.”

  “Oh good, that’s why I came back here.” She fidgeted for a second, a minor movement most people wouldn’t have noticed, but I did. “Do you mind if I make myself a burger or something? I can pay for it out of my tips.”

  Asking for what she needed—I’d been right about that aspect of her, at least. Deacon looked me square in the eye, eyebrows raised. Questioning. And fuck if the man wasn’t going to win this one.

  “I was just about to head to the restaurant in town to grab food,” I said, taking out my phone and tapping to open the browser app. “I’ll pull up the menu, and you can pick something.”

  “But we can make food here.”

  “Shitty food.”

  “I resemble that remark,” Deacon said, finally sitting back in his chair.

  “You can resemble whatever you want, but burgers and fries do not make for a well-rounded diet. You need to eat some vegetables.”

  He huffed. “Sure thing, Mom.”

  “Be thankful I’m not your mom. I’d have drowned you at birth.”

  “Are you two always like this?” Jinx asked.

  “Yes,” we both replied at once.

  “Good to know. So, food. Yeah. I’m in on that. I can chip in a few bucks from last night’s tips.”

  My gut burned, and my chest tightened again. Like the fucking bastard he was, Deacon stared at me, waiting. Giving me just enough rope to hang myself.

  And I did. “No, you keep that. I’ve got this one.”

  Jinx looked a bit skeptical, while Deacon suddenly grinned like the cat who ate the…whatever bird that saying mentioned. Me? I sighed and accepted the fact that something about this girl had thrown me for a loop. One my mind apparently had taken a liking to and wanted to stay on. One that was likely going to make me throw up at some point.

  It was going to be a long fucking week.

  Chapter Four

  JINX

  There was nothing quite as sad as watching the last patron of the night stumble their way out of the bar. Headed for a hookup, recovering from a breakup, or chasing something they certainly would never find at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey—no matter the reason, the view always sat heavy on my heart. That was the only bad thing about working at The Jury Room. The customers were nice enough, everyone seemed relatively respectful, and Deacon kept a tight rein on his clientele, so things never got out of hand. A huge change from other places I’d worked.

  Another change? The owner didn’t try to force me to my knees at the end of the night. Didn’t demand I show my gratitude for him allowing me to work there. Deacon wasn’t that way, wasn’t the type of man to take what wasn’t offered. He didn’t need to be either. Kind, funny, confident—he might as well have been an example of the type of guy to chase after. He was a total hottie in that slightly older, got-his-shit-together sort of way too. A true catch.

  Deacon didn’t catch my eye, though.

  That honor went to the man washing glasses in the back.

  The one I’d been trying to avoid since he’d popped into my life.

  The one I was about to have to work next to as we closed down the bar for the night.

  Once I’d locked the front door and turned off the neon lights decorating the windows, I headed to the kitchen. Arms on full display, Finn stood hunched over the sink, viciously working the glassware over the brush that scrubbed the insides clean. Up and down, up and down, wrists strong, forearms flexing, biceps bulging. I’d seen him mopping, sweeping, scrubbing, and now washing dishes. Lord help me, but a man who knew how to clean was hot.

  Time to distract myself. “Need some help, Fish?”

  “It’s Finn.”

  “I know.”

  “Yeah, I know you do.” He finished loading the glasses into the racks and slid them into the industrial washer before turning my way. “Why do you do that?”

  I tossed the bar towels into the basket for the laundry service. “Do what?”

  “Call people by the wrong name.”

  No one had ever asked me that before, so it took a few seconds to put together an answer. A mostly true one. “There’s nothing more dangerous to the men I usually deal with than a smart woman paying attention. I learned quick to play dumb. Why do you?”

  “Why do I what?”

  “Call people by the wrong name. You called that Mack guy Mike like four times tonight.”

  He turned away, wiping down the sink and avoiding my eyes. “My memory’s not so great.”

  “Have an accident or something?”

  “Or something.”

  That tone, the emotions behind the two words—hurt, anger, embarrassment—I’d heard it before. Too many times to count. Heard it from my own mom before she’d disappeared on me. Heard it from patrons at bars I’d worked at and from friends I’d made who’d lost their way. The prison tattoo, the forgetfulness, the orderly way he moved through his tasks—Finn fit the pattern to a T.

  And I was an idiot. “How long?”

  He glanced up, brow furrowed as he asked, “How long what?”

  “How long were you using?” No scars on his arms, no telltale burns on his fingers, and he certainly didn’t seem the coke type. “Meth, right?”

  “Yeah.” He tossed his rag into the service basket and leaned a hip against the counter, looking at me with more inquisitiveness than I was comfortable with. “How’d you know?”

  Because my entire life has revolved around other peoples’ drug habits. “My mom uses.”

  Present tense, not past. My word choice made my heart stutter. I shrugged and turned my back on Finn, needing a second to pull myself together. To push down the grief and fear that seemed to strangle me on a daily basis. The obsession that I knew was destroying my life but that I couldn’t let go of. Bury it all good and deep so no one else would see it. No one else would know.

  Sneaky, sneaky, Jinxy girl.

  Before Finn could try to dig any deeper into my past, Deacon exploded into the kitchen, tossing his keys in the air and looking far too excited for two in the morning. “You guys about done? I’d like to get out of here before the sun comes up.”

  That was…new. “What’s the hubbub, Church? Got someplace to be?”

  Finn chuckled and hung up his apron. “He’s got a date.”

  “Like…with a woman? Or are you and the big boss man finally cementing your place in each other’s lives?”

  “Oh, Jinx—my place in Alder’s life was cemented decades ago. But yes, I have a date. With a woman. And I’d like to get to it.”

  I nodded to Finn. “It’s well past the dating hour. Sounds more like a booty call.”

  “Totally,” Finn said, coming up to stand beside me. Two against one. Game on. “Are you sure this is a date?”

  Deacon looked ready to fight us both. “It’s a fucking date.”

  “Oh, a fucking date.” I nudged Finn in the side. “So there will be fucking going on.”

  “Seems likely.”

  “For the record, it’s just a date with a friend. And I should fire both your asses,” Deacon sai
d as he turned and headed toward the front of the bar. Not that I was about to let him escape so easily.

  “Just a friend? Is there kissing involved, because that’s a good sign it’s more than friendship.”

  “There’s been kissing,” Finn said, right on my heels. “There’s definitely been kissing.”

  Deacon slammed through the front door harder than he needed to. “Fucking fired. The two of you.”

  Winter air bit into my skin as I followed him outside, not that I was about to stop. Never let it be said that I didn’t know how to push someone too far. Or sing them there. “Kissing friends are the best friends. Deacon and…”

  Finn jumped right in. “Felicia.”

  “Felicia, sittin’ in a tree…”

  “Fired,” Deacon hollered before jumping into his truck and backing out of his spot. He paused only long enough to roll down the window and yell, “But you’d better lock the fucking bar up before you leave for good.”

  Finn waved. “See you in the morning, boss.”

  “Fired!” And then Deacon was gone, heading off to who knew where to do who knew what with some chick named Felicia. And leaving me alone with Finn for the very first time. In the cold. Without my coat.

  Crap. “So…”

  “Inside first. It’s fucking freezing.”

  Totally. I rushed back inside the bar, my fingers twisted together and goose bumps all over my skin. I needed a few minutes to warm up before I braved the walk across the lot. Even with the winter coat someone had dropped off for me, I’d likely freeze. I’d grown up in the desert—cold and I didn’t get along.

  Silence didn’t like me much either. Which was why I couldn’t help but ask, “What do you usually do after a shift?”

  Because there was no way a person could fall right to sleep after working in a bar all night. It simply wasn’t done. Everyone I’d ever worked with had had some sort of post-work life.

  “Go home. Watch a movie. Eat ice cream.”

  That sounded…almost blissful. “Ice cream?”

  “I reward myself with a treat for making it through the day.”

  “I like ice cream and rewards.”

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, looking anxious, and I suddenly felt like the world’s biggest loser.

  “Oh god, I’m sorry.” I shook my head and laughed, trying hard not to sound as awkward as I felt. “That wasn’t an invitation. I’m perfectly capable of getting my own ice cream as a reward.” Without a car, that was unlikely. Finn knew that.

  “I guess we could—”

  “No,” I said, putting my hands up and shaking my head. “That was super rude of me. There’s no need to accommodate me just because I decided to insert myself into your life.”

  “It’s okay. I just… I don’t usually have people over.” His teeth appeared, embedding themselves in the soft, pink flesh of his bottom lip for a second. “The truck stop has the best ice cream sundaes around, though. Not that there are a lot of options, especially not this late at night.”

  “Justice does seem to be lacking in business open past dinnertime.”

  “The whole county is lacking those.” He huffed, his expression determined. “Want to take a drive with me?”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I know. The not-having-to part. This isn’t some sort of pity invite, Jinx.”

  Well then. “The best ice cream, huh?”

  “I like ice cream—you can trust me when I say this sundae is the best.”

  Temptation, thy name was Finn. “How can I turn down the best?”

  We locked up the bar, grabbing our coats from the hooks by the door, and walked outside together, him leading me to an old pickup truck I’d seen in the back lot a handful of times. The inside was neat as a pin, and the engine started without a second of hesitation. Well cared for, Finn’s vehicle. Which didn’t surprise me. What did was the music that came blaring through the speakers.

  “Never took you for a Parrot Head.”

  Finn turned onto the highway, staring diligently at the road ahead. “I’m not. Not really. I like the idea of life on a beach, though.”

  “Sand and surf and all that?”

  “Yeah. And no snow. I’m anti-snow.”

  I pointed out the window where winter seemed about to explode all over the mountains. “I hate to tell you, but you’re sort of living in the wrong area if you hate snow.”

  “Hence why I like the idea of beach life.”

  “You can’t live forever with your toes in the sand.”

  “Sounds like you have some experience.”

  “Just…something my mom used to say.” When we had still lived in Vegas. When I’d had no worries except what time I could sneak out of the house to meet my friends. When I’d known the guys on bikes coming around but not how much trouble they would bring with them. Seemed like a lifetime ago, felt more like twenty.

  We made it to the truck stop without issue, both of us ordering sundaes from the dessert menu instead of actual food. If I was going to do bad things, I would do them to the fullest degree. Extra hot fudge, please.

  “Warm enough?” Finn asked, pulling me from my silent perusal of the mountains outside the big windows behind him and my dreams of whipped cream.

  I tugged on the sleeves of my shirt, covering my wrists. “Yeah. I’m good. Church has been bringing me longer shirts and stuff to wear, so the weather isn’t really bothering me too much.”

  “Deacon has?”

  “Sure. Or else there’s some sort of clothing fairy dropping off long-sleeved shirts and jeans every night at my motel room. Shit, that might be more realistic than to think Church would do something so nice.”

  “Oh no, it sounds exactly like something Deacon would do. He’d also crow about it every chance he got since he likes to be the center of attention. I would have assumed Parris was bringing you clothing, though.”

  I nearly snorted. “Parris isn’t so great at thinking of anyone’s needs besides his own. Besides, he’s been gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “Riding.” I shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not really sure where to, though. He said he had work to do and took off on his bike.”

  He sat back in his seat, frowning. “I didn’t know you’d been alone at the motel.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I don’t know. Does it?”

  “Not to me.”

  “You’re not scared?”

  “To be alone?” I huffed a sarcastic laugh. “I’m safer alone than with anyone else in the world.”

  And I was, though I had to admit to feeling a little lonely the last few days. And to not sleeping so well. I was used to sounds at night—cars, trains, planes, men fighting, motorcycles rolling through. But Justice wasn’t a city like the ones I’d been in. It was quiet until it wasn’t—the hooting of owls and baying of animals off in the hills waking me from even the deepest of sleeps.

  All thoughts of wild animals disappeared when the waitress brought over the biggest darn sundae I might have ever seen, though. “Whoa.”

  “Worth the drive?” Finn asked as he looked over his own massive pile of sugar and cream.

  “Definitely. Thanks for bringing me.”

  The man might have blushed. “You’re welcome. Now eat before it melts. That hot fudge is literally hot.”

  I dug in, filling my spoon with ice cream, whipped cream, and plenty of the hot, hot fudge. “Cheers,” I said, raising my spoon to Finn. I practically moaned when I took a bite. Nearly orgasmed too. “Oh my god.”

  “Told ya it was good.”

  Good was an understatement. “I will never doubt you again, Fish. At least not when dealing with food.”

  “I’ll take that.”

  We ate our sundaes in relative silence, though not an uncomfortable one. I didn’t know if there was such a thing as being uncomfortable around Finn Kennard. He was quiet and kind, easygoing and not at all adversarial. In other words, almost completely the op
posite of every other man I’d ever met. That had to be what made me so interested in him—the differences. The uniqueness. It couldn’t be true interest because I didn’t date. Ever. It was a rule that had kept me alive and sane for a number of years. Finn Kennard wouldn’t make me break it. Not even for the best darn hot fudge sundae I’d ever had or those killer blue-gray eyes. Nope, not happening.

  No matter how much I might have wanted to let him in.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” Finn said out of the blue as we were finishing up.

  “Thanks for bringing me.”

  “Anytime.” The look on his face, the strength in his words—he meant that. Anytime.

  Be still my heart. “Don’t tempt me, Finn Kennard. I might just make you cart my butt all the way to the grocery store for my popcorn and flavored water addiction.”

  “What kind of popcorn?”

  “Any kind. Any flavor. It’s an addiction.” Open mouth, insert foot. “I mean, not like that kind of addiction. Not like—”

  “Hey, Jinx?”

  “Yeah?”

  He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “It’s okay. I understand what you mean.”

  Easy. Finn was the sort of man who was way too easy to fall for. I should have put the brakes on thoughts like those. Should have pulled away and put distance between us. Should have protected myself and him from the reality of my life.

  I didn’t let go of his hand.

  Sundaes finished and bill paid—by Finn, something that would need to be remedied as I wasn’t about to be indebted to the man—we headed outside together. I was tired but happy, overstuffed with ice cream but totally content about it. I didn’t even mind the cold…much. My coat kept most of the cold at bay, and having Finn beside me helped as well. Kept me warm and happy, comfortable in my own skin and with the person opening my door and placing his hand on my lower back. It was as if we were an actual couple—normal people on a real date. I almost relaxed for those first four steps outside.

  Just four, though. On the fifth, I happened to look up.

  Three thirty in the morning at a truck stop wasn’t exactly the busiest time of day, but across the lot, I couldn’t help but notice the headlights lined up.