Dirt: A Sexy Small Town Romance (Copperwood Book 1) (5 page)

“You have some sixth sense when it comes to water heaters?”

“No, I have a sixth sense when it comes to Shane Crawford.”

“Mya told me he was back in town.” Dad decided to join the conversation and in the process let Mike know I had been talking about Shane.

Plausible deniability no longer remained a viable option. “I’d thought you’d want to know that your friend’s son was in town.”

“Tom hadn’t mentioned Shane’s name in over five years.” Dad leaned back on his heels, but stared the pipes feeding into the heater. “When Evie left, Tom just stopped talking about Shane. If I didn’t get a nice card from Evie on my birthday every year letting me know what she and Shane were doing, I might have thought I imagined Tom having a wife and kid.”

I stared at my dad. I didn’t know he talked to Evie. Or that he knew what Shane was up to through her and hadn’t bothered to share it with me. I thought he took Tom’s side in the less than amicable split. Evie was nice to me — and good friends with my mom — but she was a transplant and never really fit into the town. As I look back at it now, I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did. Jack admitted to me once that he and a few other business owners had a pool predicting the year Evie Crawford would leave Tom and town.

He missed it by a year.

Mike ignored dad’s confession. “Consider it a wellness check. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well I’m fine.” I glared at the water heater, clearly in no condition to supply hot water to the house. “Even if I can’t take a shower.”

9

Shane

T
he knock at the door pulled me away from the scrolling through the social media footprint of a typical married man who put aside his frat boy antics because he’s now a father. In short, the knock was a welcome interruption for the tedium of scrolling through baby picture after baby picture depicting a baby doing the exact same thing.

I didn’t even bother asking who it was before opening the door.

I should have.

Alene Mason greeted me with a grin and not much else. Her clothing didn’t leave much to the imagination. Taking a step forward, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the door, blocking her from the rest of the motel room.

Not that I had anything to hide, I just didn’t want her in the room.

“Can I come in?”

“The usual greeting is good morning or hello.” I didn’t move from the door.

Alene rolled her eyes and blew out what might have been an exasperated breath. “Good morning. Can I come in?”

“I’m leaving town tomorrow, Alene.” I’m not sure if I was informing her or reminding myself.

One of the cars driving down the street slowed down as it approached the motel and Alene looked over her shoulder. She watched the car drive past. Normally I wouldn’t think anything of it, but a souped–up import wasn’t the typical car you’d find in Copperwood. Not unless the kind of tourists who visited the town changed significantly in the last ten years.

Her head snapped back and she stared at me for a moment. “Please, Shane?”

Her voice took on a pleading tone. There was a hint of desperation having nothing to do with getting out the town by any means possible.

I watched the car turn off into the parking lot of the Sav–Mor grocery store down the street from the motel before looking back at Alene. From the way she shifted her weight from foot to foot in front of me and tried to find things for her hands to do, she had a connection to the occupants of the car and didn’t like standing out in the open.

I stepped back from the door and held it open for her. I knew as soon as she stepped into the room, I made a mistake. Nothing felt good about her showing up at my door and nothing felt good about her coming into my room.

Alene sat down on the edge of the bed. I looked at the way she sat — legs crossed, leaning to the side, shoulders pushed back — every gesture intended to seduce and please. Fortunately, I was immune to her charms. Maybe because I was still feeling guilty for getting myself off in the shower to thoughts of Mya.

I sat down in the chair next to the table and lowered the screen of my laptop. “What do you want, Alene?”

“I need help.”

Well
that
was a surprise. I hadn’t expected her to come right out with what she wanted. Alene had been adept at manipulating situations to get what she wanted while in high school and I figured she would have honed her skills during the past decade.

“With what?” I was back on ground I understood. Negotiating and digging up dirt.

I knew all about people getting into trouble and how best to clean it up. I busted dirt for a living, but I didn’t think Alene knew that. Hell, I didn’t think anyone in town knew what I did for a living. My dad sure as hell didn’t talk about it. If he did, he’d have to admit that I stopped talking to him
because
of the dirt I dug up on him. Dirt I wished I left buried.

“I need to borrow money.” She looked away from me when she spoke. Most people did when it came to money. We were ashamed when we had it and ashamed when we didn’t have it. The rest of her body language stayed the same.

Her message was obvious and nothing about her modus operandi changed. She’d give me what she thought I wanted and I’d give her something she wanted. Too bad she couldn’t give me Mya.

“Why?” I was genuinely curious. Did she want seed money to leave town? I didn’t think so. She was industrious enough to find another way of escaping. No, Alene needed money for another reason and dollars to donuts she owed someone. The real question was why she owed someone.

“I just need it. Ok?” She lifted her gaze and stared at me.

“How much are we talking?”

“Two grand.” She didn’t bat an eye when she admitted the amount.

I did. Two thousand dollars was a lot of money to need — even outside of Copperwood. What the fuck had she gotten herself into that she owed someone that much money? It might have been gambling, but she tended to calculate her risks and only take them if she was certain she’d win. Plus, two grand wasn’t much for a gambling debt.

But why she owed money wasn’t the most important thing at the moment. “Why do you think I have that kind of money.”

“You might not, but your dad does.” She quickly amended her statement, “or did.”

Fuck. I rested my elbows on my knees and leaned forward, trying to look casual. “How do you know how much money my dad might have had?”

The corner of Alene’s mouth turned up into a smug grin. She knew. She had to know. But how had she figured it out? Alene wasn’t exactly known for her intelligence. She wasn’t even known for being kind. She was known for one thing — being easy and being pretty — and I doubted that had changed since I left town.

“Your dad had a lot of secrets, Shane.” She looked down at her hands and examined her manicured nails. “Maybe if you ever talked to him or visited, you’d know about them.”

I leaned back in my chair. I was back on solid footing. She thought I didn’t know what my dad had done, that he sold the town out for his own monetary gain. And not just once, but twice.

“Who do you owe money to?” I figured it was whoever was in the car parked at the grocery store, but I wanted her to tell me.

“I told you. It doesn’t matter. Just get me the cash.”

The desperation was back in her voice. Alene didn’t want me to know why she needed the money, which was like putting a marshmallow in front of a kid and telling them they couldn’t eat it. “I’ll think about it.”

Her lips pursed together and I suppressed the urge to tell her she was ruining her makeup. Her desperation was too real, I’d give her the money. Alene needed help, but before I gave it to her I wanted to find out why she needed it.

I stood up from the chair and walked across the room then opened the door. I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t need to. Alene stared at me for a few more minutes before finally standing up and crossing to the door.

“How long are you going to take?” She didn’t want to leave the room. It had nothing to do with me and instead everything to do with avoiding what waited for her outside.

“That depends.”

Alene knew my dad’s dirty laundry and was threatening to air it unless I paid her. I knew Alene well enough — at least I hoped I did — to know her threat wasn’t serious. She wasn’t deliberately

mean, she was just self–centered. I learned long ago giving specific answers was never good for business and for better or worse, this was turning into business.

“I’ll give you to the end of the day.” She planted her hands on her hips and tried to gain back the upper hand she didn’t realize she never had.

I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. She needed the money. She’d give me as much time as I wanted or needed if it meant she walked away with two grand in cash. We both knew it.

When I didn’t say anything else, Alene finally gave up and walked out of the motel room, but not before looking down the street. I closed the door behind her before she could say anything else.

I wasn’t a cold man, at least I liked to think I wasn’t a cold man. I knew Alene needed help, but I figured she’d be safe enough in broad daylight. Besides, she got to my motel without any harm happening. There were things I needed to get done and I couldn’t do them with her hanging around the motel room.

I needed to find out why she needed the money then I needed to find out how she learned about dad and his dirty secrets. But before I did any of those things, I needed to convince Mya she needed to have lunch with me and I wanted to make it a lunch she’d never forget.

I went to the table by the bed and opened the drawer. I found a phonebook and a bible inside. Just like every other hotel room, the bible hadn’t been opened since it landed in the drawer. But the phonebook was well–used and worn — Copperwood hadn’t fully embraced the Internet age and most businesses still advertised through the yellow pages.

I wouldn’t find what I needed from a web–page, I’d find it on a ultra–thin piece of yellow paper.

10

Mya

I
ended up borrowing Mike’s shower for the hot water. He assured me Alene wouldn’t be there, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure if I was happy about her absence. If she was at Mike’s, then she wasn’t anywhere else or
with
anyone else.

By the time I got back home, wet hair and all, I expected Mike and my father to have made a little bit of headway, but of course, that wasn’t in the cards. Neither man seemed interested in a conversation, so I headed back upstairs to get ready. There wasn’t much I could do without hot water, and I still had to go in to work.

“Mya!” Mike shouted up from the bottom of the stairs.

I figured they probably wanted something to eat and considering Mike was donating his time, the least we could do was feed him. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and ran down the stairs.

Mike stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest staring at the one man I never really expected — but desperately wanted — to be at my front door.

“Shane’s here.”

I looked between the two men staring at one another. “I see.”

The hundred dollar bill I stuck in my pocket, burned its way into my thoughts. I needed to give him back the money. I didn’t want his charity, even though I don’t think he saw it as charity.

The three of us stood at the bottom of the stairs. Neither one of us said anything right away. I couldn’t read their minds, but I could read their expressions, and Shane looked upset to find Mike at my house.

“I thought you said you were going to call.” Not the greatest of openers, but there was some weird man chest–thumping thing going on, and I never did well under pressure.

Shane pulled his gaze away from Mike and focused it on me. A warmth ran over me, reminiscent of the feelings he used to cause when we were in high school when he paid attention to me. I thought I had outgrown it.

“I thought I could take you to lunch.” Shane looked back at Mike and lifted an eyebrow, as if he was asking Mike permission.

“Are you asking me or Mike?”

Mike pushed away from the wall and raised his hands in surrender. I understood his coolness to the man he thought of as a friend. Shane was leaving in another day, Mike would still be here. And despite me thinking I was over Shane Crawford, once he left, Mike would be stuck helping me pick up the pieces of a re–broken heart.

“I like Mike’s company, but I came by
your
house.”

The logical side of my brain told me to thank Shane, give him back his money, and close the door on his face. But I wasn’t going to listen to it. I didn’t do when I was sixteen, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it when I was twenty–six.

I was a fool.

I looked down at my jeans and t–shirt. “Do I need to change?”

Shane shook his head slowly and smiled. “You’re fine. Maybe a jacket or sweater?”

“Alright.” I nodded my head slowly and tried to think of the different places he might be taking me for lunch where I would need a sweater.

None came to mind as I raced back upstairs to scan the contents of my closet, as if I was going to find a brand new wardrobe waiting for me. I grabbed the first one I found, an old cotton sweater stretched several sizes past the letter written on the tag. I probably should have gotten rid of it years ago, but it was one of the last things my mom bought for me before even going shopping became an exercise in exhaustion for her.

By the time I came back downstairs, my father had replaced Mike as the protector of my fragile emotions. I didn’t understand it. Up until I told my dad that Shane was back in town, he had been locked into a world of his own creation, one that I couldn’t break into no matter how hard I tried.

“Let me know if you need any help with anything.” Dad was being polite and friendly. Two things I hadn’t seen since he lost his job then mom a few months later.

“The lawyer is taking care of everything. I just needed to come back to get some things I didn’t want to be sold.”