Bad Boys Do (20 page)

“Jamie.” Eric sighed. “This kind of thing could take years to develop. We’d have to expand, and—”

“No, we wouldn’t. If you’ll just listen to me—”

“Fine!” his brother snapped. “You write down your ideas, and we’ll talk about it sometime.” Tessa started to speak, but Eric held up a hand. “But not this year. This year has been crazy enough, and I’ve got my hands full.”

“Eric,” Jamie said wearily. “I’m not asking your permission to bring this to the table. I’m not begging for your approval. I’m telling you that I have a good idea, and I’m going to move forward with it.”

“You’re not making changes to the brewery unless we all agree.”

“Fair enough,” Jamie conceded. “But there are a hell of a lot of other changes I can make without consulting you. If you need to run this place on your own, then go ahead and run it, Eric.”

“No,” Tessa said, shaking her head in a quick staccato. “No, Jamie. What are you saying?”

He hated the fear in Tessa’s eyes, but he was done. He’d defined himself by his family for so long, but he was never going to be the good one, not even in his own mind. “Don’t worry, sis. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears spilled over her eyes, but Jamie could only shake his head. He had to do what was best for himself. Not just what he
wanted
to do, but what was best, for once.

“Jamie, please don’t do this,” she said, her voice trembling with tears.

“The brewery is my home just as much as it is yours, Tessa. I’m not walking away from it. I’m just going to spread my wings a little.”

Eric frowned and crossed his arms again. “What are you talking about?”

Jamie met his brother’s eyes, and for the first time in a long while, he truly looked at him. The intensity in his blue gaze. The lines of stress around his eyes. The hard set of his mouth. Eric had carried the responsibility of this place since he was twenty-four years old. He’d carried his siblings as well, and it wasn’t good for any of them.

“I’m growing up, Eric. Just like you always wanted. And I can’t prove myself here.”

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me,” Eric muttered.

“You know what? It’s not really about you.”

Eric threw his hands up in disgust. “This is ridiculous. We open in five minutes. We’ll discuss this later.”

“Sure,” Jamie agreed. It didn’t matter when they discussed it. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with Eric. Tessa was right; Eric still saw them as kids. If Jamie wanted to stop being the little brother, he had to get out of here.

Eric walked out without another word, but Tessa stayed and another tear leaked from her eye, tracing a slow path down her face.

“Cut it out, Tessa.”

“You cut it out!” she yelled. “You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re just mad.”

“I’m not mad,” he said quietly.

She nodded, her eyes glinting with fear. “Yes, you are.”

“Look at me. Do I look mad?” He knew he didn’t, because it had all drained out of him. He’d screwed up one too many times. That night with Monica Kendall had been the last straw. Another moment of bad judgment on top of so many others. Not the worst mistake he’d ever made, though. Not by far.

Tessa must have seen the truth in his face, because she stepped closer and grabbed his arm. “What are you doing, Jamie? What are you talking about?”

“I’m growing up, Tessa.”

She lunged and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his chest. “Please don’t.”

“Grow up?”

“No, don’t go. Please, Jamie. Don’t do this to us.”

He held his arms up, hoping she might let go. “I’m not doing anything to you.”

“Yes, you are!” she sobbed, and Jamie gave up any hope that she’d back off.

He lowered his arms and wrapped them slowly around his sister, sick at the way her back trembled.

“I don’t want to lose you, Jamie,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m still a Donovan Brother, just like you.” Instead of laughing at his pitiful joke, Tessa sobbed again, and he tightened his hold. “Tessa, I need a chance to stand up on my own.”

“You can stand up here. I’ll back you up, Jamie, I swear. Tell me your plans. What do you want to do?”

He wanted to reassure her. He really did. All Tessa had ever asked for was happiness for her brothers. But he didn’t have the energy to lie, and he could no longer see a way through this mess. Eric didn’t trust him, and Jamie couldn’t set aside his resentment long enough to be calm. In the end, he was saved by Henry.

“Um… Sorry to interrupt…” Henry’s eyebrows were nearly to his hairline as he eased one of the swinging doors open. “It’s eleven. Should I go ahead and unlock the doors?”

“Yes,” Jamie said quickly. “Thank you.”

Tessa squeezed him harder.

“We’ll talk about this later, Tessa. I’ve got to finish prepping.”

“No! I’m not going to—”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be here all day, and I’ll be in tomorrow and the day after that. Nobody’s running off, all right? Even if I decide to open another place, I’m not planning on breaking up the partnership.”

“You promise?” She eased back, swiping a sleeve over her face as she looked up at him. “I promise.”

She was still a mess when she left, but Jamie felt fine. A little too fine, actually. The calm was a welcome change, but letting all that anger out had left a hollow place inside him, like something important had been scooped out.

“It’s fine,” he murmured as he wound the cord around the vacuum. There was no time to finish sweeping the carpet. He hadn’t even taken the chairs off the tables yet.

Jamie raced through the rest of the cleaning, taking down chairs and wiping tables with such speed that sweat trickled down his neck. The thought of half the room being unvacuumed nagged at him. It nibbled at his calm.

There were few things in life he was good at, and the hollow place in his chest was like an echo chamber, reminding him that he’d left this job undone.

Jamie glanced at the doors one last time. If a customer walked in, they’d hardly find it welcoming to be hit by the roar of a vacuum, but there was a crushed pretzel in the far corner that he’d just noticed.

“Shit.” Jamie unwound the cord in record time and made a few frantic passes over the rest of the room. Just before he’d finished, a square of light burst across the floor as the front door open. Jamie flipped the switch and let silence fall over the room. Crap, he’d forgotten to turn on the music.

“Sorry, I’m running a little late today. If—” The rectangle shrunk as the door closed, and he could finally make out the customer as the glare subsided. The words died in Jamie’s throat. “You,” he breathed.

“Hello, Jamie,” Monica Kendall said. A million sparks sizzled through his brain at that moment. Shock. Shame. Anger. And worry. Worry blazed brighter than the others for a moment, and Jamie’s eyes fell to her stomach as he remembered the conversation he’d had with Olivia the other day.
If I saw you looking like that a few months from now…

But, no. No, thank God, she was as slim and sleek as ever. The thought came and went with such suddenness that he felt dizzy. He hadn’t even wanted the briefest connection with her, much less a lifetime. “What are you doing here?” he managed to get out on a rasp.

“I wanted to say hi, see how you’re doing.”

“You can’t be serious.”

The brittle smile slipped for a moment. “I saw your tweet and I was in the area….”

What the fuck was she talking about? He watched her as if she were a scorpion about to strike.

“I wanted to apologize for my brother.”

“For your
brother?
” he laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

Her eyes flashed with some hard emotion. She was as beautiful as ever, but she’d always had that icy edge. She practically glittered with it. “Jamie, I didn’t mean for that to happen. You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything,” he scoffed, unplugging the vacuum and walking it to the small closet next to the bar. When he turned around, she was right there behind him.

“Jamie—”

The door opened again, and two bikers walked in, their clip shoes clicking against the tile. “Hey,” one of the guys said, raising a hand in greeting. “Two IPAs.”

“You got it,” Jamie said in relief, heading for the tap. But Monica didn’t leave. She started to step behind the bar with him, but when he shot her red high heel a look of warning, she moved back behind the line and waited impatiently.

He drew two pints and delivered them to the bikers, but when he tried to ease past Monica again, she grabbed his wrist. “Can we just talk for a minute?”

“The last time I gave you a minute, you took ten hours.” That wasn’t all she’d taken. He would’ve jerked his hand away, but he didn’t want Monica to know how much she affected him.

“I didn’t know—”

“Bullshit,” he said quietly. “You were the one to give him the code. While you were hanging on me, rubbing your tits against my arm, you were watching me enter the code. So don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Okay, I knew he wanted to get inside, but I swear, I thought he only wanted information. He said my father needed more data on—”

“Why are you here?”

She finally let go of his wrist. Jamie wanted to massage the feeling of her fingers off his skin, but she was watching him, so he only swiped his arm against his apron and stepped back behind the bar.

“The police are trying to make this into something it’s not. I liked you. That was why I came by that night. It wasn’t some premeditated crime. I told Graham I was stopping by and he asked if I’d…”

“Be an accessory?”

“No!”

“Did you get a cut? Did he pay you to take me home and screw me?”

“No!” she yelled, her voice loud enough that the two customers stopped talking to watch them.

“You need to go,” Jamie said. “Now.”

“It wasn’t like that. I wanted you.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I remember. Whether I wanted it or not, right?”

Her mouth became a red slash of anger as her cheeks went pink. “Don’t pretend you didn’t want it. You’re a man. If you hadn’t wanted it, there wouldn’t have been much to work with. And if I remember correctly, there was plenty.”

“Get out,” he ordered.

She seemed to realize she’d gone too far. Her sneer disappeared and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. Really. I swear, I had no idea what he had planned.”

“What is it that you want, Monica?”

Her gaze flickered down. She shook her head.

“Just say it so you can leave.”

She reached for him, drawing one finger down his arm, her lower lip edging out a little as if she were a young girl in trouble. “They’re trying to set me up, Jamie. If you would only tell them it wasn’t like that. We had a connection, and I’d never have done anything to hurt you. Just tell them that. I know your sister is dating the lead detective. He’ll listen to you.”

Monica Kendall looked ridiculous playing this part. There was nothing soft and vulnerable about her, which was exactly why he hadn’t been the least bit attracted to her. It was why he’d said no until he hadn’t had a choice.

“I really care about you, Jamie.”

He pulled his arm out of her reach and shook his head. “You’re a lying, ice-cold bitch. I’m not the only man you played this way. There was that construction company Christmas party, right? Is that the only way you can get a decent guy to sleep with you? By tricking him?”

She reacted as if he’d just set a live wire to her nervous system. First her spine snapped straight, then her eyes went wide. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

He hated her with a fury that would’ve surprised him if he hadn’t recognized the phenomenon. It was hate for her mixed up with hate for himself. “You’re beautiful, Monica. There’s no denying that. But there’s something wrong inside you. I could see it right away.”

This time when her mouth opened, plenty of sound came out. She screamed, “Fuck you!” and lunged for him, her bright red nails swiping toward his face. He pulled back just in time, but she kept coming.

“Hey!” he yelled, grabbing at her wrists to stop her attack.

“You loved it!” she screamed. “You loved every minute of it.”

“Get out now before I call the cops.”

The swinging doors burst open and Eric stormed in. “What’s going on?” His eyes narrowed on Monica. “What the hell is she doing here?”

“She was just leaving,” Jamie growled, straining to keep her hands away.

Monica was still raging, her lips pulled back from her perfectly white teeth. “You suck in bed, you know that? You didn’t even make me come.”

Yet another lie. The girl had screamed so loudly in bed she’d made his ears ring. “Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t really into it.”

She pulled her chin in, took a deep breath and spit right into his face. He let go of her in shock and one of her nails caught his cheek.

“Shit.”

Suddenly the tornado of nails and screams was gone. Eric had wrapped his arms around her from behind and he dragged her toward the door. Jamie grabbed a rag and wiped his face before sprinting toward the door to open it. Eric pushed her out and Jamie closed the door as quickly as he could.

“Holy crap,” one of the bikers said.

“Makes me glad I’m married,” the other one muttered.

Jamie ignored them and wiped his face again, his hand feeling distinctly shaky. He noticed a smear of blood against the rag and pressed it to the spot on his cheek, which burned like acid.

“Sorry about that, guys,” Eric was saying. “Those pints are on the house.”

The men whooped, clearly untraumatized by the soap opera moment they’d witnessed. Jamie, on the other hand, felt on fire with adrenaline, and his lungs burned as if he’d just run five miles.

Eric turned on him. “Could I speak with you in the back for a moment?”

Jamie nodded, but on his way to the back, he stopped, drew himself a pint of pilsner and downed half of it in one gulp.

When he pushed through the swinging doors, Eric was waiting with arms crossed and eyes blazing. “What the hell was that about?”

Jamie dabbed at the scratch. “I have no idea.”

“You’d better come up with an idea. You just had a brawl with a woman in front of the customers.”