Bad Boys Do (19 page)

“I know that.” He didn’t understand how she could stay so relaxed, talking about something so awful. But she just looked up at him, eyes sad and mouth serious, her chin still perched on her knees.

He walked away, but he heard the scrape of her shoes as she got up to follow. Bending down to avoid her eyes, Jamie worked the offending bush out of its spot with a hand shovel. It came up easily, letting him know the roots had hardly grown at all.

“You were so angry that first year,” Tessa said softly.

He glanced up but pretended the sun was in his eyes so he wouldn’t have to meet her gaze. “I wasn’t.”

“It’s normal, you know. The anger. It’s okay to be mad at them for dying. For being out on that road late at night. It had been raining for so long, and with all the snowmelt, maybe they should’ve known. There’d been landslides…”

Jamie surged up and rushed away as if transferring this damn bush was a life-or-death matter. “I wasn’t mad,” he ground out past his tight jaw.

“You were, Jamie. You were furious. You lashed out at Eric all the time. You skipped school to party with your friends. You even cursed out the principal.”

“He was an ass.”

“Maybe he was. But that wasn’t like you. You might’ve been a little irresponsible before. You might’ve been lax about your schoolwork, but you were never bad. But after they died, for a while there, you didn’t care about anything.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, dropping the bush into the hollow of dirt so he could press a hand to his tight neck.

“I do understand,” Tessa whispered. Her hand touched his shoulder. “I was mad at them, too.”

“No, you don’t get it. I wasn’t mad at them. I was mad at
myself.
”

Her hand slid down his arm. “Why?”

A confession spun through him like the blades of the barley grinder, chewing up his insides and turning them to meal. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t want to do this. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed it back. “I wasn’t the son they deserved,” he said simply. And it was the truth, but not even close to all of it.

“Oh, Jamie.” Her hand moved down his arm as if she meant to take his hand, but Jamie pulled away to grab the shovel and start filling in the hole with black soil. “They loved you so much,” Tessa whispered.

“I know.”

“Even when you got into trouble…they’d put so much effort into lecturing you, grounding you, trying to break you down. But afterward, I’d hear them laughing in their room, because it was so hard to keep a straight face when you were being a smart-ass. They loved everything about you, Jamie.”

Jesus, she was trying to make him feel better, but she didn’t realize she was only driving the blade deeper. “I know they did, damn it.”

If he’d been looking, he could’ve avoided her, but since he was glaring at the shovel, Tessa was able to sneak her arms around him and squeeze. He heard her sniffle, and he cursed.

“Come on, Tessa.”

She sniffed again. He couldn’t ignore a crying Tessa, so he dropped the shovel and turned toward her. Her arms held him more tightly as he pressed his hands to her back. “Don’t cry.”

“You’ve felt like this all this time? That’s awful.”

She had no idea. But he deserved to feel like this. He deserved to feel much worse.

“I want you to start talking to us again, Jamie. I want to know you better than all those strangers you spend so much time talking to.”

He rested his chin on her head and didn’t answer. It was easier talking to strangers. He didn’t owe them anything. He hadn’t taken anything from them by being a stupid, selfish kid.

“Please?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Sure.”

“Jamie.” He felt her shake her head, her hair sliding against his chin. “I’m serious. Please don’t say yes just to make me shut up. I love you.”

His throat thickened, so he let her go, closing his eyes against a sudden dampness as he turned away. He’d decided he wanted to try again, and here was Tessa asking for something difficult and it was so much harder than he’d imagined. Shit.

“I just want you to talk to me.”

He grabbed the shovel, just to have something to do. But after he finished tamping down the soil, Jamie decided the drip line could wait. “Do you want a Coke or some water or something?”

“Sure.” Tessa followed him to the house. They sat down at his kitchen table with two glasses of ice water and a bubble of uncomfortable silence lodged between them.

“So, what have you been up to?” she asked carefully.

Try,
he ordered himself. “I…I’ve been seeing that woman.”

“Which woman?”

“The woman who came to see me. Olivia.”

“Really?” She leaned forward. “Is it serious?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe. Yes.” When Tessa laughed, he felt the bubble of awkwardness burst and there was clear, bright space between them.

“Your ambiguity makes me think it might be serious, after all. Jamie Donovan stuttering over a girl?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

“No, but you practically said, ‘Aw, shucks,’ when I asked about her. Are those stars in your eyes?”

“No.”

“Maybe you’re just overwhelmed with the novelty of dating a genuine grown-up.”

His first instinct was to take offense, but instead he smiled. Damned if his little sister wasn’t right again.

“So, what else are you up to?” she asked. “Or are you spending all your time with this Olivia?”

He’d thought he had been, actually, but here he was alone on his day off. Then again, it was probably a blessing. If Tessa had walked in on him and Olivia in the hot tub… Heck, there was no telling what she might’ve posted on Twitter.

Jamie cleared his throat. “Not all my time, no. Just some of it. The rest of it, I…” Her smile was all warm encouragement, but he wasn’t ready to reveal his plans yet. They were too new. Too raw. Still, he could share something.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about Donovan Brothers. About becoming more active. More plugged-in.”

“You should,” Tessa said brightly. “Absolutely.”

“I know you think I should, but Eric doesn’t. It’s going to be a fight.”

“So fight him.”

“Don’t worry. I plan to.”

Tessa’s eyes widened when she belatedly realized what she was encouraging. “Well, don’t fight. Just talk to him like you’re talking to me. He has no idea you’ve changed, Jamie. Neither did I, because you’ve kept it from us. As far as I knew, you spent all your free time throwing hot tub parties.”

“How do you know I don’t?”

“Because this place isn’t a college party house, Jamie. It’s a home. I bet you’ve even got real food in the fridge.”

Jamie flushed, thinking of the steaks and vegetables he’d bought at the grocery store that morning. He’d anticipated Olivia staying over, and on the off chance she might become hungry while naked in his bed, he wanted to be able to feed her without bothering with dressing and going out. He wasn’t sure if that put him in the party house camp or the real home camp, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Just talk to him,” Tessa repeated. “It would be so nice if you two could be friends like you used to be.”

“We were never friends,” he corrected. “He was my big brother, not my buddy.”

“He was your hero! You looked up to him. I don’t understand how you can go from that to barely tolerating each other.”

He understood why. Sometimes it felt as if he hated Eric. Hated the way he always did the right thing. Hated the way he was always responsible. Always the good one. But the truth was…Jamie knew full well that the person he really hated was himself.

“We clash,” he muttered. “It’s just that simple.”

“So
don’t
clash. Get along. Talk. Everything doesn’t have to be a battle between you two.”

Try. Just try. That’s what she was asking, and he now knew he could do that. Jamie took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She looked stunned.

When he nodded, Tessa squealed and jumped up from her chair to throw herself at him.

Wrapping his arms around her, he managed a laugh past her bone-crushing hug. He kissed the top of her head before shoving her off his lap. “You’re not as little as you used to be.”

“Hey!” The hard slap to his arm signaled that everything was back to normal. Everything was fine. The only difference was that Jamie was finally starting to find his footing after having been knocked off his feet so many years before.

“Are you already off work?” he asked. “You wanna grab dinner later or—” His phone beeped, and Jamie snatched it up so quickly that Tessa jumped.

“What is it?”

“Shit,” he cursed, viciously disappointed that it wasn’t from Olivia. “It’s from the new part-time guy, Zach. His car broke down in Colorado Springs. He can’t make it in tonight.”

“Oh, no. I can go in, if you want.”

“No,” he sighed. “He’s my bartender. I’ll cover it.”

“Okay,” Tessa said. “But if you’re going in, wear the kilt. I’ll put it on Twitter.”

“Tessa—” he started, but she’d already whipped out her phone and started typing. What the hell. Olivia might call, and it never hurt to be prepared.

“W
E’VE GOT A PROBLEM
,” Tessa’s voice said into his ear.

Phone clutched loosely in his hand, Jamie settled back into his mattress. “Hmm?” he asked sleepily. Tessa got upset about a lot of stuff, and an early-morning phone call from her wasn’t exactly something to get worked up about.

“Jamie, are you awake?”

“Kind of,” he grumbled, eyes still closed. “What time is it?”

“It’s nine.”

Nine o’clock on a Thursday morning. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He’d only talked to Olivia once since Tuesday. Concentrating in class today would be challenging. He hoped she wore heels again. And maybe that innocent little button-down dress she’d worn the first day of—

“Jamie! Wake up!”

He forced his eyes open. “I’m awake. I swear. What’s wrong?”

“I know you normally come in late on Thursdays, but Chester just called and he can’t make it.”

“Are you kidding me? I already filled in on Tuesday, and I had to get in at eight yesterday to meet the plumber.”

“I’m sorry. I’d do it myself, but I’ve got an appointment with the accountant and I have to stop in and do a press check at the printer for the new coasters. Eric’s supposed to leave at two for—”

“Do not ask Eric. Crap. What the hell’s wrong with Chester, anyway?”

“His girlfriend’s really sick with the flu. He’s taking her to the emergency room.”

Great. Now Jamie couldn’t even be grouchy about it. Well, not publicly. But privately he was going to be grouchy as hell about missing class. And Olivia. She’d gotten all caught up in her work on the brewery expansion, and she seemed to have forgotten the other side of the coin. She was supposed to be having fun. With
him.

“All right,” Jamie growled. “I’ll be in before eleven.”

“Okay. Great. Wear the kilt.”

“No. I’m not in the mood.”

“Just wear it. Come on. It’s great for business.”

“I don’t want to wear the damn kilt, okay?” He heard a suspicious clicking sound in the background. “Tessa—”

“Too late. I already tweeted it.”

“Goddamn it! You’d better—” The phone went dead in his ear. Jamie shot it an incredulous glare, then threw it as hard as he could into the mattress. It landed with an unsatisfying, soft plop and barely even bounced.

This damn social networking thing had gone far enough. Jamie stormed to his bathroom and turned on the shower. Not even the sight of the broken towel rack cheered him up today, and he showered as quickly as he could.

He didn’t feel up to the kilt today. Didn’t feel up to the flirtatious comments and outright ogling, but it would be worse if he didn’t wear it after the announcement on Twitter. Fielding disappointment would take twice as much charm, even if most of the women were feigning it.

He pulled on his dark brown kilt, and added a plain black T-shirt as a protest. A damned ineffectual protest, but the black reflected his mood, at least.

Aside from his irritation with Tessa, he wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with him. He felt restless. Impatient. He wanted to move forward with his plans, but he expected a fight and that weighed heavy on his shoulders. He was off balance. Uncertain. He didn’t know what was coming with his family, his work. And he had no idea what the hell was happening with Olivia.

Jamie grabbed a bagel on the way out the door. He was tired already, and he had a twelve-hour day ahead.

Mist wet his skin as he walked to his truck, but it felt good, cooling him down a little. A little. But his neck was still tight as hell when he walked through the back door of the brewery. Ignoring the sounds of activity coming from the office area, Jamie grabbed an apron and started loading the stacks of dirty glasses into the dishwasher. Thank God the front room didn’t open for another hour.

Henry came out of the tank room, rolling a bucket and a mop in front of him. “Oh, hey, Jamie. I’ll get those. Next on my list.”

Nodding, Jamie started up the wash he’d loaded, then headed to the front. The doors were still swinging behind him when Tessa pushed through. “Hey, Jamie.”

“Give me the password to the Twitter account.”

“What?” She stopped dead. “Why?”

“Because I’m taking it over.”

“Jamie, no! I’m sorry about the kilt thing, all right? I shouldn’t have done that.”

He shook his head. “I’m done with it. Tomorrow morning I’ll go buy a smartphone. Customer service is part of my job and I need to take care of it. The password, please.”

“You don’t even know how to use Twitter.”

“Give me a little credit, will you? I can figure it out.”

Tessa frowned down at the phone in her hand. “But I like it.”

“Sorry.”

Tessa stomped over and grabbed a slip of paper from under the register. She scrawled out the Twitter account name and the password and handed it over with no grace at all. “Gee, thanks.”

“You have to be entertaining, all right? You can’t just put dry stuff out there. You need to respond to people’s messages and—”

“I can handle it,” he interrupted. “I’m not a complete imbecile.”

“Why are you so grumpy?”

“Because I’m supposed to be off until four!”

“So, what’s so important?” she asked, now as irritated as he was.

“I—” Crap. Jamie shook his head and bit back the words he’d been about to say. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“I don’t know. I think you’re up to something.”

Jamie snarled. “Whatever it is, it can’t be anything important, right?”

“You’ve got a chip on your shoulder. I’ll be in my office if you cheer up, all right?”

Ignoring her, he started wiping down the taps. By the time the whole bar was shined to a polish, Jamie felt slightly calmer and almost sorry he’d snapped at his sister. But really, her little Twitter jokes were getting to be too much. He had a right to be pissed.

But when Henry brought in a crate of still-steaming glasses, Jamie forced himself to give a small smile. “Thanks, Henry.”

“Hey, I can fill in for you for a couple of hours if you want. I helped Eric at that trade show a few weeks ago.”

“Naw, I’m good. But thanks.”

Henry nodded and headed back to the kitchen.

“Wait. If you want to start training, let’s set up a schedule.”

The back of the kid’s neck reddened and he nodded eagerly. “That’d be great. I think I could be good at it.”

Jamie wasn’t so sure. Henry was twenty-one, but he looked sixteen and he was still as awkward and gangly as a teenager. Still, he deserved a shot, and his eagerness was a good sign. It actually went a long way toward cheering Jamie up, and he was whistling as he grabbed the vacuum and turned it on. He’d finished half the room when he realized the growl behind him wasn’t the vacuum. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Eric standing there, arms crossed and mouth turned down in disapproval.

Goddamn it. Jamie did not need this now. He kept vacuuming.

“Jamie!”

Jamie took a deep breath and turned off the vacuum. “What?”

“I said, what are you doing here?”

“I’m filling in for Chester.” He left off,
What the heck does it look like?
in an effort to be civil.

“Why?”

“He couldn’t make it.”

Eric’s jaw ticced. “What the hell is wrong with your bartenders? This is the second time this week.”

“Ease up, man. Chester had to take his girlfriend to the hospital. Did you want me to say no to that?”

“And what about Tuesday?”

Jamie’s shoulders tightened to steel. “What about it?”

“New guy, right? Some friend of yours? Decided to drive to Las Vegas instead of come in to work?”

“That is not what happened. His car broke down. He—”

“I am sick and tired of these losers you keep hiring. I’m going to start sitting in on the interviews.”

“The fuck you will,” Jamie growled.

Eric growled right back. “You obviously need some help.”

“I don’t need help! When have I ever asked you to pick up the slack?”

“Boulder Business Expo a couple months ago? Sound familiar? Wait, maybe it doesn’t it, because you never showed up. You were too busy filling in for a bartender who took off for Mexico for spring break!”

I’m not going to hit him,
Jamie chanted in his head.
I’m not going to punch him in his smug mouth.
“Look,” he ground out, trying to keep his tone reasonable. “Hiring servers and bartenders isn’t like hiring an office person. The wages suck, and it’s not the kind of job you take when you’re ready to settle down. So, yeah, there’s going to be some turnover, but Chester is a good—”

“This isn’t up for discussion.”

Jamie’s patience snapped, and he slammed his hand into a table. “You don’t get to decide that, damn it. We’re all equal partners here.”

“Yeah? You really think you’re pulling your weight around here, Jamie?”

He’d said it. Eric had finally said exactly what he’d always thought. That unspoken sneer that lurked behind his words. Jamie heard a strange rushing sound and realized it was his blood surging through his veins. His pulse beat in his temples. Everything in his body tightened until he thought he’d either explode or simply snap in half.

Eric seemed to recognize that he’d gone too far. He dropped his head, and his shoulders rose on a breath. “Look—”

“I pull my fucking weight,” Jamie ground out past clenched teeth. “I do my job, and it’s a job you couldn’t do in a million years.”

“You—”

Jamie shoved away the arm that Eric reached toward him. “I’d love to see you try it, brother. I’d love to see you be charming and interesting and approachable. I’d love to see you make small talk with grumpy old men and washed-up sports stars who talk about themselves for two hours and women who think it’s okay to touch your ass because you’re nice to them.”

“Listen—”

“I’d like to see you clean up a spilled pitcher of beer with a goddamn smile even though you’re exhausted because you’ve already been on your feet for ten hours and you know you’ve got another hour to go, because if everything’s not perfect in the morning your own brother will call you an irresponsible, idiot asshole who can’t do anything right.”

Eric’s face paled as if Jamie had punched him right in the gut.

Good.

“Guys?” Tessa whispered. She stood in the doorway, her purse clutched in one hand, the doors to the kitchen still swinging behind her.

Jamie reached for the vacuum again.

“Jamie,” Eric said. His hand touched Jamie’s arm and it felt like an electric shock that connected directly to all his rage.

He shoved Eric. Hard.
“Don’t touch me.”

“Hey!” Eric shouted, catching himself on a table.

“Jamie,” Tessa said, rushing forward. “Stop it.”

“Stop what? You’re the one who told me to stand up to him.”

“Not like this!”

“I was in here minding my own business. Doing my job. And he came in looking for a fight. Didn’t you, Eric?”

“I just wanted to talk about—”

“You didn’t want to talk about shit. You wanted to tell me what I was doing wrong. You wanted to let me know what a fuckup I am, just like always.”

“All right,” Eric snapped. “That’s enough. I’m sorry if I stepped over the line, but you have to admit that you contribute to the problem. You were late last week. Your brand-new bartender has already called in. And you keep saying you want to take on more responsibility, but you never do anything about it.”

“That’s not true.” Jamie felt his nails cutting into his palms, and considering how short his nails were, that wasn’t a good sign. He tried to relax his grip, if only because Tessa’s eyes were welling with tears. “It doesn’t matter what I do. You’re not ever going to give me a chance, are you?”

“A chance at what? If you’re trying to do more, I sure as hell haven’t seen any sign of it.”

Tessa elbowed him, but Eric just shot her an annoyed scowl.

Jamie had wanted to wait for the perfect moment. He’d wanted to call a meeting and sit down with his siblings as if they were only business partners and not a family with baggage and fears and long-simmering anger. But he could see now that there wasn’t any use. His chest felt empty with it.

He looked his brother in the eye and felt nothing. “I’ve wanted to make some changes around here. Start serving food.”

“We talked about that last year,” Eric said, brushing away Jamie’s words as if he were a fly buzzing around the room. “We decided it would pose too many problems.”

“You decided,” Jamie said. He wasn’t even mad anymore. He was just tired. “I talked about it, and you decided.”

“I am not the bad guy here,” Eric said, stabbing his thumb at his chest. “I’m not the bad guy because you woke up one morning thinking you’d like to start serving hamburgers and I said no. This isn’t a restaurant, it’s a brewery.”

Tessa put her hand on Eric’s arm. “You’ve been wanting to expand, Eric. Just listen to him.”

“I want to expand our business, and our business is beer, not food.”

Jamie decided to give it one shot. One last shot, because what did he have to lose? He’d already lost it all in those years of running from his own potential. “Our business isn’t beer. Our business is this brewery. This place right here. You’re the one who wants to expand beyond that, and that’s fine. That’s great. But I’d like to focus my work inward.”

Eric put his fists on his hips and dropped his head. “A restaurant isn’t something you just jump into, Jamie. Do you know anything about it? We’d have to expand. There’d be more insurance, more employees. Think about it, for God’s sake. This would be a completely different place.”

“I’m not just throwing this out there.”

Eric’s laugh held no humor. “What was it you said? ‘Burgers and stuff’?”

“That was last year. I’ve actually put some work into this, Eric.”

His brother tossed a dismissive look around the tap-room. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I have. I’ve been taking a class…”

Tessa’s head popped up and her eyes slowly widened.

“A cooking class?” Eric asked.

“No, a restaurant development class. I have an idea. A real idea. I want to—”