One Reckless Summer (18 page)

“Thanks,” Mick said suddenly, because he wasn’t sure he ever had, and time was growing short, “for that day you took a whipping for me.”

In the bed,
Wayne
only shrugged. “You were little. And they were fucking assholes.”

“Man,
I looked up to you then,” Mick mused, leaning his head back. “I wanted to be just like you.”

The irony in his words, the irony of how things had turned out, hit him only when
Wayne
said, “I never meant to drag you into bad shit, man. Never meant to turn you into…me.”

This was no time, Mick thought, to let his brother take the blame for things he wasn’t sure were his fault anyway. “I think Mom and Dad are to blame for any bad shit either one of us got into.”

“Still, there were times…I should’ve sent you home, not asked you to come—you know?”

That liquor store in Crestview, he meant, and other similar occasions that Mick would rather not remember. But he still didn’t blame his brother for it. And so even though he wasn’t sure he’d ever said these words to any human being in his life, he figured now was the time—so he got completely honest. “I loved you, man. You were…the
only
thing I loved.”

In the short silence that followed, a TV announcer declared, “And this one belongs to the Reds!” They both looked up to find that the game was over and fireworks were exploding over
Great
American
Ball
Park
, although you could barely see them in the daylight.

Reaching for the remote by
Wayne
’s bed, Mick turned off the TV, then reached down and flipped on the boom box he’d brought from home. The radio blared with that Tommy
Tutone
song from the eighties—about a girl named Jenny.

Wayne
hadn’t replied, but Mick wasn’t sorry he’d said it. And he was about to stand up and take some garbage to the kitchen when
Wayne
said, “What do you love
now
?”

“Jenny
,
Jenny”
flowed from the radio and Mick tried to tune it out of his mind a little—he even reached down to lower the volume. “I don’t know. I…like my work. I like…” What else? What else was big enough for him to put on a list of things he truly loved? He couldn’t think of anything.

“The girl?”
Wayne
asked. “Jenny Tolliver.”

Mick blinked,
then
turned his gaze on his brother. “Do I
love
her? Hell, man…it’s just…you know, sex.”

“Liar,”
Wayne
said confidently.

Did it show on his face? His feelings for Jenny, his need for her? “I’m not saying I don’t care for her, but…
love
’s a damn big word. I haven’t known her that long.”

“What
? You’ve had a hard-on for her since we were teenagers.”

Mick laughed. “That’s different than knowing somebody.”

“It’s a good start, though. So…you think you could love this girl?”

Still freaked out at the very suggestion, Mick shook his head. “She lives across the lake and her dad’s the chief of police. You do the math.”

“I didn’t ask what the problems were—I asked if you could love her.”

Shit. He’d had to go and bring up
love,
of all the damn things in the world, hadn’t he? This is what he got for being honest with
Wayne
, just saying what he felt. But now they weren’t talking about him loving
Wayne
, they were talking about Jenny. His chest tightened with…the truth…and how hard it was to think about it…and how hard it was to admit it. “In a different place and time…maybe.”

“Thing is,” Wayne said, letting his eyes fall shut, looking suddenly like he’d drift off any moment, “I’d feel better dying if I thought I wouldn’t be leaving you…completely alone.”

“Don’t worry about
me
, bro. I’ve been alone awhile now, and I get by all right.”

And he waited for
Wayne
to argue with him, to keep pressing him about this, but he went completely quiet and Mick realized he’d fallen asleep.

Well, good. The medicine was making
Wayne
…unpredictable suddenly. Or maybe, like he’d thought before, it was
death
making his brother that way. Whatever the case, he was glad the subject was closed. He wanted Jenny, he craved Jenny, he fantasized about Jenny whenever they were apart, and he looked forward to the time when he’d see Jenny again. But none of that equaled love. He wouldn’t know that kind of love if it slapped him in the face anyway.

And he didn’t even want to. What he’d just told
Wayne
was true—he’d learned to be alone. After their parents had died, after
Wayne
had gone to prison. And the truth about being alone for Mick was—in his life, it felt safer that way, and he liked it just fine. Jenny was…comfort. But whenever this was over, he’d be good and ready to throw his stuff back in the truck and head back to
Cincinnati
—alone.

Under the Covers occupied an old two-story building painted sage green with cream trim on Destiny’s
Town Square
. A sign in the window announced a book club meeting on Tuesday night. When Jenny and Sue Ann stepped inside, the wonderful smell of books met Jenny’s nose.

A large tabby cat bounded silently from a high bookshelf to land on the counter, and Jenny heard Amy scold, “Watch it, Shakespeare,” just before she looked up to exclaim, “Hey, you finally stopped by to see the place!”

“Wow, great store,” Jenny said, and she meant it. The space immediately felt warm and cozy, dotted with overstuffed easy chairs and braided rugs. “Sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“We have an outdoor patio in back, too,” Amy boasted with a smile as she rounded the counter to greet Jenny and Sue Ann. “The book club meets there in good weather—although lately it’s been so hot we’ve opted to stay inside.”

Jenny’s eyes dropped to the cat, who’d made its way to the floor and had just woven through her ankles before hopping up to settle in one of the chairs. “What’s with the cat?” The truth was that it had felt oddly…comforting simply to have a cat rub up against her, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in ages.

“Want him?” Amy asked. “He just started hanging around about a month ago, so I started feeding him so he wouldn’t starve, and—of course—now he won’t leave. I started calling him Shakespeare because he seems to sleep in that particular section a lot. But he’s officially up for adoption, so what do you say?” Amy’s eyebrows lifted hopefully.

Yet Jenny quickly balked. “Uh, don’t look at
me
. I’m only in town for the summer.” Even if, in some way, the idea appealed. Of having a cat around again. Kind of. Except…pets never lasted. A fleeting thought of Snowball passed through her mind.

Amy shrugged. “I’m sure he’d be happy wherever you end up.”

But Jenny just laughed and shoved the idea aside, because it was easier that way. God knew she had enough on her mind already. “Why don’t
you
adopt him? You’re a cat person, if I recall.”

“No can do,” Amy said with complete certainty. “Mr.
Knightley
would never allow it.”

Now it was Jenny who raised her eyebrows. According to Sue Ann, neither Amy nor Tessa had ever married, nor had Rachel. “Mr.
Knightley
?”

“My cat at home,” Amy said. “He’s very possessive of me. And he doesn’t play well with others.”

Just then, Tessa popped out from between two tall shelving units carrying a stack of books in her arms. “You have to forgive Amy,” she explained by way of saying hello. “She’s
very
into her cat. And she reads way too much Jane Austen—hence the cat’s name.”

Amy rolled her eyes in protest. “May I point out that it’s technically
impossible
to read too much Jane Austen? She only wrote six books.”

Tessa rolled her eyes right back. “Well, then…” She shifted her gaze to Jenny and Sue Ann. “She
re
-reads too much Jane Austen.”

“I
like
Jane Austen,” Sue Ann offered cautiously.

“Sure, we all do,” Tessa said. “But do you have pets named after her characters?”

“Well, okay, maybe I see your point,” Sue Ann replied, and Amy crossed her arms and tried to look put out.

“Enough about my cat already,” she said, “and on to another matter of importance. Jenny, are you going to join my book club?” An encouraging smile spread across her face.

“Oh, gosh,” Jenny hedged, “I’d love to…except my summer reading probably isn’t what your customers would enjoy. Stephen Hawking? Brian Greene?”

Tessa’s eyes narrowed. “Brian Greene? Isn’t he a science guy, too?”

“Another of her physicist idols,” Sue Ann clarified for the girls.

“So you’re still all into astronomy, huh?” Tessa asked.

“Afraid so. Even though I know it sometimes makes me hard to socialize with,” Jenny said on a laugh.

Tessa shrugged. “We’ll still socialize with you—but we just won’t read with you.”

“It’s a shame, though,” Amy added, “because I’ve even gotten some guys to start coming to the book club lately.”

And at this, Jenny let out a harrumph. “Well, then all the better reason for me to stay away. Guys are the last thing I’m interested in this summer.”
Other than a criminal I met in the woods
,
that is.

Amy responded by lowering her chin and looking as if she knew all. “But have you seen Adam Becker lately? He’s looking very fine. And he promised me he’d come next week.”

“Because you browbeat him,” Tessa pointed out.

Jenny let her eyes go wide with exasperation. “What is it with everyone wanting to fix me up with Adam Becker? I’m
so
not interested.”

“
Logan
Whitaker then?” Amy asked. Jenny searched her memory and remembered
Logan
being Amy’s neighbor when they were growing up—sort of like a brother to her.

“No thank you,” she said with a smidge of extra emphasis. “Nothing against
Logan
, but…”

Yet Amy would not be quelled. “How about Mike
Romo
? Though he’s a little older than us, he’s a cop and works for your dad, so you probably know him.”

“No, I don’t know Mike
Romo
. I mean, I remember him a little from when we were young, but—”

“He’s majorly
hot
,” Amy informed her in a voice designed to entice.

Which made Tessa roll her eyes.
“And he’d never darken the door of your book club in a thousand years, and that’s probably good, because most people think he’s a jerk.”

“
Jerk
schmerk
,”
Sue Ann
said
.
“He looks good on the softball field.” She glanced to Jenny. “He and Jeff play on the same team.”

Despite the unwelcome topic of conversation, the more they talked, the more it felt like old times to Jenny—in a good way. Amy had possessed a matchmaking streak even back when they were young, and it reminded Jenny that, at heart, most people didn’t change very much, which was kind of reassuring.

Except for Mick, of course. He
had
changed. She truly believed that, more and more each day. And maybe that was healthy for her in more ways than one, because she
needed
something good to believe in this summer.

And the more they talked and gossiped and giggled, the more she
reimmersed
herself in the simple ease of being one of the girls, there rose a tiny, immature part of her that wished she could just tell Amy and Tessa everything about Mick, just as she’d told Sue Ann. But she couldn’t, of course.

Such was the hell of living…well, almost a double life. By day she was “good Jenny” Tolliver, and by night she was Mick Brody’s lover. She tingled a bit in her panties just thinking about it, about
him.

“Why the wicked little grin?” Tessa asked suddenly, and Jenny flinched, wanting to smack herself for it.

“Grin? What grin?” She blinked nervously.

Then Amy narrowed her gaze and lowered her chin, looking a little like Sherlock Holmes about to solve a case. “You’ve got a secret,” she said slowly, surely. “A secret…man.”

Holy God. “What?” she gasped. “That’s crazy.” Next to her, Sue Ann made a choking sound,
then
broke into a light coughing fit.

Tessa, who had long since set down the books she’d held, stepped over to slap Sue Ann on the back, laughing a bit at the whole situation—then turned her eyes back on Jenny. “You know, I’m not usually one to dig for this sort of thing like Miss-Jane-Austen-is-my-life over here,” she said, motioning to Amy, “but if I do say so myself, you look completely suspicious right now. Your face is even turning red.”