Just a Little (5-8)

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Just a Little...

Webster Grove...

Just a Little...

Just a Little Series | Parts 5-8

By Tracie Puckett

© This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Tracie Puckett. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author:
[email protected]

Manufactured in the United States

First Edition September 2013

© 2012. All rights reserved.

Cover Photo © Dmitri Gromov | Dreamstime.com

CHAPTER ONE

Friday, February 08

“Things change,” Matt rolled his eyes. “People evolve. Get—over—it.”

I stared at my cousin open-mouthed, and I wasn’t alone. Uncle Charlie was just as baffled.

Seriously? Of all people,
Matt
was the one talking about change?

As long as I’d known him—our whole seventeen years of existence—he’d
always
had a plan, a direction. He’d always had his future mapped out—day by day, week by week, month by month.

Distractions weren’t allowed, and maybe that’s why he didn’t break down when his ex-girlfriend was carted off to jail. Maybe
that’s
why he’d been able to get through life without questioning the loss of his mother at such a young age. Maybe life came so easily for him because he’d stayed on track and never focused on anything but achieving one goal: attending culinary school.

Now he was talking about
change
? Something wasn’t right.

“I don’t understand,” I stared down at my empty plate. “You’re
not
making dinner?”

For the first time in months, the table was empty and the oven was untouched. I was hungry. Starving! Did I mention my plate was empty? But I couldn’t even press
that
issue. What I really needed to know was why my cousin suddenly felt the need to abandon everything he’d ever loved.

I opened my mouth to question him, but he put his hand in the air.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Julie,” he said. “Things change;
people
change. Roll with the punches.”

“But—”

“
Roll with the punches
,” he wore a goofy grin as he glanced back at the clock. With a pat on Charlie’s back, Matt headed for the door, “Later.”

I looked down at my plate for a third time. Still somewhere between angry and speechless, I glanced up at Charlie. He moved his lips, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Did he just—”

“Yes,” I said, “he just left us… without food.”

He shook his head and grumbled something about needing a live-in chef. I considered reminding him that up until about five seconds ago, we’d
had
a live-in chef, one that’d just walked out the door, but I thought better than to provoke a hungry Charlie.

After gathering the empty dishes and returning them to the cabinet, my uncle turned back to me.

“Whaddaya say?” he leaned against the counter. “Wanna go out and grab a bite?”

I scrunched my brow and stared at him, “Matt just told us that he was done cooking for us—
hanging up the apron on his culinary dreams
, I think he put it—and abandoned us to go spend the evening with his girlfriend. I think we need to address
that
issue first.”

“What’s to address?” he crossed his arms at his chest. “He’s changing directions.”

“But it’s Matt,” I said. “Matt doesn’t change directions.”

“Ah, Julie,” he combed his mustache, “give him time.”

“Time?” I asked. “We graduate in five months. He’s already accepted his admittance to—”

“Matt’s a passionate person,” he said. “He gives his heart and soul to everything he loves.”

“And he
loves
cooking.”

“He’s distracted,” he said, aggravated that I wouldn’t let it go. “When a person has so much love in their heart for someone or something, everything else becomes less important, less exciting, less meaningful.”

“Um?”

“Matt’s feelings for Kara are stronger now than they’ve ever been,” he continued. “And those feelings have taken precedence over everything else.”

“That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard,” I said, thinking of my relationship with Luke. If anything, loving Luke had made my senses and passions stronger. It’d heightened my awareness for the beauty of life. Every moment, every dream, every day, it all felt so special. Not meaningless. “Love makes everything
greater
.”

“Then maybe you don’t understand true love,” Charlie brushed past me and ruffled my hair. “And I don’t expect you to, Pumpkin. You’re still young.”

“I understand love just fine, thank you very much,” I knew that it would thrill him to learn that what I had for Luke was nothing more than a passing interest. “And I’m the same age as Matt. If he’s old enough to understand love, then give
me
some credit.”

“I’m starving,” he avoided any further elaboration on my deep understanding of love. He rubbed his bulging belly. “Where’d we land on dinner?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I rolled my eyes. “Pretty sure our dinner plans strolled out the door five minutes ago.”

“Well, I’m heading to Frank’s,” he said. “You in or out?”

“In,” I mumbled, pushing myself up and following him through the door.

On a typical Friday night, you’d never find me hesitant about drowning myself in junk food, but going out was a different story. I didn’t want to face the weekend crowd at Frank’s Bar & Grill. The weekend patrons consisted mostly of drunken men and lonely teenage boys. But God, I needed food. Because Matt had suddenly changed his life ambition, I had to find sustenance somewhere else.

Fifteen minutes later, Charlie and I arrived at Frank’s and secured the only two empty seats left at the bar. Being seventeen, I wasn’t exactly allowed to occupy one of those barstools, but having Oakland’s Chief of Police at my side didn’t exactly hurt matters. After a quick round of barbecue wings, I surveyed the restaurant for familiar faces. A few kids from my high school were goofing around and enjoying a friendly game of pool in the corner. A couple of Oakland cops were throwing back beers at the end of the bar, and the loud buzz of friendly conversation filled the room.

It was an environment of carelessness, and I appreciated how simplistic life in Oakland truly was. But a familiar face caught my attention and snapped me out of my small-town-life-trance. Nestled in a dark corner booth was the one person I never imagined I’d see.

“I’ll be back,” I said to Charlie (who was so engaged in his conversation with the bartender that he didn’t bother acknowledging my leaving). I headed across the restaurant, stopped short of the booth, and tried not to wear a too-surprised expression.

“Kara,” I smiled down at Matt’s girlfriend, “I thought you were out with—”

“Oh, hey Julie,” she said, pushing her silky hair back over her shoulder. “What’s up?”

I lowered my voice, “I thought you were out with Matt tonight?”

“Nope,” she still wore her perfect smile, “Fridays are date nights with my dad.” She nodded to her father on the opposite side of the booth. “Dad, this is Julie.”

I exchanged pleasantries with her father, noting that it was quite easy to see where Kara got her good looks, and admitted that I must’ve misunderstood where Matt said he was heading tonight. I quickly apologized and left Kara to her father, wishing them both a good night.

I walked back to my seat and realized that Charlie had already vacated his to join his buddies at the end of the bar. I scooted back into my stool and asked the bartender for a glass of water. While waiting on my order, I sent a quick text to Matt to find out where he’d gone this evening. Thinking I wouldn’t hear back from him anytime soon, my phone buzzed and proved me wrong.

Matt

Hanging with Kara.

I glanced over my shoulder to confirm, yet again, that Kara and her father were enjoying each other’s company, and Matt was nowhere to be found.

Me

What are you guys up to?

As fast I sent my message, his response came through.

Matt

Just hanging. Talk later, k?

“Yeah,” I mumbled, aggravated that my cousin—my best friend in the entire world—had blatantly lied to me. I tossed my phone down and dropped my forehead against the bar. I let out a low moan and banged my head against the wood.

“Damn,” a sultry voice whispered close to my ear. “If being sexy was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged.”

I groaned and looked up, “You did
not
just say that.”

“Officer Lucas Reibeck,” he extended his hand to shake mine.

I couldn’t help but smile at the wicked grin he wore as he took Charlie’s stool.

“Officer Reibeck, you say?” I flashed him an equally devilish smile. “Julie. I’ll go ahead and save you the trouble of using another pickup line—and God, I hope you’ve never
seriously
said that to a woman—
no
, you can’t have my number.”

“What makes you think I want it?” he asked, arching his brow. Lines of fatigue bracketed his eyes, a telltale sign that he was exhausted after a long day of patrol.

“Well,” I said, still playing along. “Judging by the way you walked over here with such confidence, and the way you haven’t taken your eyes off of me since you came up, I’m willing to bet you’re after something.”

His wicked smile grew wider.

“Sorry,” I said, “the answer’s no.”

“Why’s that? You got a boyfriend?”

“Oh yes,” I leaned closer to whisper, “and he wouldn’t be happy if I told him about you.”

“I’m not scared,” he said, almost whispering. Luke’s arm fell lightly around my shoulder and he pulled his face closer to mine. Our noses brushing, he softened his gaze and smiled. “I don’t think he’d mind if I steal just one kiss,” he said, finally meeting my lips.

The electricity of his touch lingered on my skin even after he pulled away.

I closed my eyes, still trying to steady my breath. No matter how many times he did that, I couldn’t get used to it. I fell a little harder with every touch, every kiss, every gesture. So, I had to wonder how Charlie could think that love was anything less than what it was—a feeling that made even the smallest moments incredibly monumental.

Settling back in his barstool, Luke took a peanut from a nearby bucket and crushed the shell.

“What’s got you down, kid?” he asked, popping the nut in his mouth. He tossed the shell over his shoulder before setting out to smash another.

“Nothing.”

“Try again,” he dipped his hand back in the bucket. “I walked in and you were slamming your face against the bar.”

“I wasn’t slamming anything.”

“Right,” he softened his gaze. “What’s going on, Julie?”

I looked back over my shoulder to confirm that Kara was there, not a mirage or hallucination, and then checked to make sure Charlie wasn’t in earshot.

I lowered my head and nodded at the back booth. “Kara’s here.”

“Can’t read your mind, kid,” he turned to look at her. “I need more.”

“Matt blew us off tonight…said he couldn’t stick around to make dinner because he was going out.”

“Okay?”

“And I assumed he meant with Kara.”

“That’s all?” he asked, shaking his head. “You can’t be angry with him for an assumption
you
made.”

“I know, but when I texted Matt a few minutes ago and asked him where he was, he said he was with her.”

“Okay.”

“And he’s clearly not.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” I threw my hands in the air, “that’s it. He’s lying. Which means he’s probably sneaking around behind her back, meeting other girls, lying to her face, cheating—”

“Down girl,” he lowered my flailing arms. His simple smile curved up and he shook his head. “No assumptions, okay? I’m sure there’s a simple, logical explanation.”

“Yeah, he’s cheating on her.”

“You don’t know that,” he squeezed my hand. “Think about it, Jules. It’s Matt. He’s not the kinda guy to run around.”

“And he’s not the kinda guy to leave his family starving, but he did
that
,” I said, still bitter. “Who knows what else he’s capable of?”

Luke’s smile wore off and he shrugged. He seemed content enough to listen to my list of complaints, but he wasn’t buying it. If Matt
was
cheating on Kara,
I
was the only person who suspected it.

My phone buzzed and I snatched it up to read the screen.

Matt

Can’t reach dad. Tell him I’ll be late. Seeing a movie with Kara. Later.

I turned the screen so Luke could read it.

“I told you.”

Luke flashed a quick glance at Kara and then back at the message.

“Hmm,” he said, and that was
all
he said before taking the phone from my hand and putting it aside. “Forget it. When he’s ready to tell you what’s really going on, he will. In the meantime, trust him. And whatever you do, don’t tell Kara about your suspicions. You don’t really know what’s going on, Jules. And that kind of misinformation will only hurt her.”

“But—”

“Julie,” he said, giving me that look of his, the one that said he was done humoring me, “trust
him
.”

I rolled my eyes and sunk lower in the stool, knowing I had no choice but to pretend I trusted him—just for the sake of placating Luke.

“Now,” he asked, pushing the bucket of peanuts aside, “are we still on for tomorrow?”

“God, I hope so,” I brushed my thumb across his hand, “as long as you don’t bail again.”

“I won’t.” I gave him an
I don’t believe you
look. He threw his hands up. “I promise. Tomorrow night I’m all yours.”