Play Fair (The Devil's Share Book 3) (11 page)

“You’re coming back, right?”

Yep. That’s what I was afraid of. “Of course we’re coming back, we’ll always, always come back.” I tapped the end of her nose. “I told you, it’s you and me now.”

“And B.”

I smiled. “And B.”

“Are you taking her on a date?” She giggled. “Because you think she’s pretty.”

I leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Good night.”

“Good night…Jacks.”

I hadn’t told Landry yet that she was my daughter, biologically. Last night she was too tired and I was in the studio all day today. But she needed to know her mom had been honest about one thing at least. “You’re my daughter, Buttercup. Your mom didn’t lie about that.”

Her eyes got wide. “Really?”

“Really, really.” I brushed some hair off her forehead. “Diane came by yesterday while you were sleeping and told me.”

She was quiet for so long, I wasn’t sure she was going to say anything else on the subject. But then, “Do you want to keep me?”

How many times in this life was she going to make me tear up? Was this normal? I felt like Lexi. “Yes. Do you want to keep me?” I figured it was only fair to let her have a choice as well.

She nodded.

I clapped my hands once. “Well that settles it then, doesn’t it? We’ll keep each other. And we’ll keep hanging out with all the crazy people who live in this house and keep playing with Dagger and keep going to the beach.”

She smiled, full of light. “Like a family.”

“Like a family.”

Her voice cracked. “What if my mom comes back?”

Did she know that her mom could still get custody? “Well, if your mom comes back, then she comes back. We’ll figure it out. I’m still not going anywhere.”

I turned off her lamp and headed downstairs with a pep in my step. I had Landry; I had B; I had the band; I had it all.

***

I figured it was useless to try to rush Bryan. I’d just get Smith to make me a drink while I waited. Lexi and Dash were posted up on the couch, a large bowl of popcorn between them. “Lex, should you be eating that much salt?”

She stuck her tongue out at me and Dash answered for her. “Dylan only buys the low sodium kind.”

Smith was in the dining room, standing at the vintage bar cart the house came furnished with. I smiled when he handed me a whiskey on the rocks. “You read my mind, man.” I took a sip and closed my eyes as I swallowed. It’d been forever since I’d had a good drink. Those shots with Luke didn’t count.

“Landry asleep?”

“Probably. She’s usually out as soon as I turn off the light.”

“How you doing with that? I feel like other than band stuff, I haven’t gotten to really talk to you about everything.”

“I’m good. We’re good.” I let out a quick laugh. “I mean, walking into the living room and seeing Landry standing there was the biggest shock of my life. I was so damn overwhelmed and terrified.” I took another drink. “But then? I don’t know. Things just started to fall into place. I feel so damn guilty that she’s had a hard life, that I wasn’t there for her. But honestly, if I’d have found out about her nine years ago? I don’t know if I would have stuck around. Now, the more time I spend with her, the more I fall in love. I never thought I wanted to be a dad. But now that I am, now that she’s here, it just feels right.”

Smith wiped the corner of his eyes with his fingers. “If you tell anyone I just cried, I’ll kick your ass.” He pulled me in for a hug. “I’m proud of you, bro. Really fucking proud.” He pulled back a little but didn’t let me go. Sober Smith was kind of an emotional sap. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, where was Landry living? She has the sweetest little accent, it reminds me of—”

“Are we interrupting something? We can always come back later.”

Smith and I stepped back from each other at the sound of Bryan’s voice. I turned toward her to make a smart-ass comment, but the words died on my lips. She rendered me speechless. Her long hair was flowing down her back in soft curls, her ripped jeans were tight, her shirt fell off one shoulder, and her heels screamed fuck me. She wasn’t wearing much makeup. She never did; she didn’t need it. Her eyelashes were thick and curled and her lips were plump and glossy. Yep. It was official. I wanted to bang the hell out of my best friend. Like, up against the wall, fingers digging into her flesh, sweat dripping down our bodies. Bang her.

***

I’d planned on taking Bryan out to a nice expensive dinner. But she and Dylan had a different idea. They wanted shots, beer, and bar food. Who didn’t love a low-maintenance Southern girl? I’d hired a driver for the night, and B ordered him to take us to a dive bar. And he had. We pulled up to a rundown shack. The name across the top was so faded I couldn’t read it and there were more old rusted trucks out front than anything else. I thought the girls would balk, but instead they walked in like they owned the joint, ordered a round of tequila shots, a round of beers, and put twenty dollars in the jukebox.

The four of us were playing darts, and B was kicking my ass. “I think you’re cheating.”

She let out a chuckle. “And I think you are a sore loser.”

Smith clapped me on my back. “Always has been.”

The place was pretty much empty when we got here, but it was starting to fill up fast. We’d gotten some stares from a couple younger chicks, but no one had asked us to sign anything or pose for pictures. Yet. Bryan had been a little quiet at first, but I just kept joking around and messing with her until she lightened up. Maybe I’d been making her uncomfortable lately. I’m sure I’d been putting out weird vibes since I realized I had feelings for her. If treating her like my BFF made her feel better, then I would. Well, I would as long as I could. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to wait to kiss her. I kept staring at her lips.

“Show me how you pick up chicks. Let me watch. I’ll be your wingman, whether you think you need one or not.” Bryan took a pull off her beer and then used it to point to a blonde on the small dance floor. “What about her? She looks easy.”

I shook my head. “Nah. Easy is no fun. Besides, I like brunettes.” The truth was I was never picky before. Blonde, brunette, redhead. All had the same thing I wanted. But Bryan was a brunette and I was very subtly trying to drop hints.

“Okay, okay. Uh…there’s one. The girl at the pool table in the short skirt.” Bryan watched as the girl bent over to line up her next shot. “I’m pretty sure she isn’t wearing underwear.”

I didn’t bother looking. No one could ever compare to Bryan. The way her eyes held so much humor, the way she smiled with her lips against her beer bottle, everything about her was what I wanted. Did she not see that? Or did she see it, and not like it? “It’s all about the chase, doll.” I polished off my beer and then tossed it into the trash. “First I make eye contact with the one I want, hold it for a little longer than I normally would, and then look away. I go about my night, dancing and drinking and laughing. But every once in a while, catch her eye again. I don’t smile, don’t let her know it’s intentional. Sooner or later, she’ll come to me.”

Bryan laughed at my words as Dylan came up and grabbed her hand, pulling her out to the dance floor. Smith walked over and handed me a fresh drink. “Could you eye fuck her any harder? Is that the way a friend behaves?”

I took a drink from the cold bottle. “I think I just might have a crush on your girlfriend’s baby sister.”

Smith put his hand to his chest. “What?! You fell for your sexy, down-to-earth, hilarious, bad-ass best friend? Who could have possibly seen that coming?” Then he crossed his arms, his tone once again becoming serious. “Oh, right.
All
of us.”

I winced. “It’s slightly terrifying for several reasons. One being that Dylan isn’t a fan of us being together and I’m afraid she’ll cut my dick off.”

Smith nodded. “Be careful, she’ll do it. I mean, shit, she shot my dad.”

My eyes went wide. “What? She shot your old man? When?”

Smith turned slightly away from the dance floor. “New Orleans.”

I knew there was a confrontation with Smith’s asshole drug-addicted low-life father, but I had no idea that Dylan shot him. “Did she kill him?” I didn’t think so. I figured we would have known if he had died, but maybe not. Smith wasn’t one to share about his family.

“Nah. She shot him in the foot. He was fine.” Smith let out a laugh. “Dylan means well, you know? She’s protective of the people she loves, and it seems to me that she is trying to look out for you just as much, if not more, than she is her sister. She says that Bryan never sticks around, she gets bored easily. You have Landry now, stable is your new middle name.”

“I just can’t picture Bryan leaving us…but maybe Dylan is right to worry, she’s known her a hell of a lot longer than I have.” That last comment felt bad on my tongue. I hated even entertaining the thought that Bryan would just up and leave us on a whim.

“Don’t worry so much about what Dylan thinks. She cleaned up your puke. She watched you stumble in, night after night… She’s hesitant when it comes to the two of you. You both seem volatile to her, you know?”

Smith was right. Dylan had literally cleaned up my messes when she had joined us on tour. I knew to her I was just a player with a drinking problem. And I couldn’t really blame her for thinking it. “Lexi cleaned up your messes too, man. But she didn’t get in the way of you and Dil.”

“Dylan isn’t Lexi’s baby sister.” Smith smiled, almost apologetically. “Look, man, you did me a solid when I was about to screw things up with Dylan before they even started. I owe you, and I’m here for you.”

I shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not even sure Bryan is into me. I’ve never had to guess at that before, never really had to put myself out there.”

“She’s into you, man. Why do you think Dylan has her panties in a twist about everything?”

We both stayed quiet for a while, just watching the girls dance and sing. You could see the love between them, that unmistakable bond of sisters. I bet when you added Mikah to the mix, it was even more profound. “You have any advice? You have insight into these Lawson girls.”

Smith took a deep breath. “They were raised to be strong, capable women. They can hold their own in any situation, don’t forget that. And just be yourself, and be honest. They don’t take well to fake.” He chuckled. “Oh, and ice. Keep some ice handy.”

“Ice?”

“You’ll see.”

I watched as Dylan spun Bryan around. I made sure to catch her eye. She wanted to watch me pick up a chick? She’d get a front row seat. “Let’s go do some shots.”

After the next song was over, the girls came and joined us at the bar. It was a good thing too, because we were starting to draw a crowd of ladies. Smith grabbed Dylan, dipped her back, and kissed her—letting the chicks know he was taken and the men know to back the fuck away. My hands itched to do the same to B. Every male eye in the bar had been on her while she danced with her sister. I settled with pulling her in for a one-armed hug around her neck and a kiss to the top of her head. It would have to do for now. I didn’t need Dylan chasing me around the dance floor with a knife.

Bryan looked around the room. “Did you pick one?”

I chuckled, “Yeah, I picked one.” The jukebox was blaring out some Manfred Mann’s. I grabbed B’s hand, spun her in a circle, singing at the top of my lungs, “
Wrapped up like a douche another roller in the night
!”

Bryan started cracking up, like bending over holding her side, cracking up. “What the hell did you just say? What kind of musician are you? Those aren’t the words to that song.”

I scoffed, “Yes they are.”

She shook her head. “No. They aren’t.”

“Okay, lyric police, what is he singing?”

Bryan waited for the chorus to come back around and then sang loudly next to my ear, completely and totally off key. “
Revved up like a deuce another runner in the night
!”

I pursed my lips. That did make more sense than singing about a douche. “You sure?”

Smith threw his arm around her shoulders. “Why’d you correct him? We’ve been letting him sing the wrong words for a decade. It’s hilarious. I’m pretty sure there is even a YouTube video of it somewhere.”

I gasped in outrage. “You guys are all assholes.”

Eventually Bryan and Dylan went back out to dance, so Smith and I hustled a few games of pool. Before I knew it, a couple hours had gone by and it was last call. We grabbed the girls on the way to close out our tab. Thanks to her cock-blocking older sister I hadn’t gotten to spend any alone with B all night. Watching her dance and laugh had only made me want her more. She used my own pick-up moves on me without even knowing it. The way she danced, holy hell. Her tight little body, her curves. I knew every man in the bar was thinking the exact same thing I was. It made me want to kill them, and fuck her. I didn’t know if making a move would be the best thing I ever did, or the worst. But I couldn’t stay away from her any longer. It was inevitable.

While we were waiting outside for our driver, Bryan put her head close to mine. “You know, I’m pretty sure that blonde chick we saw earlier would be up for anything.”

I put my hand on the small of her back and pulled her body against mine, putting my mouth next to her ear. “The question is, doll, would you?”

She took a small step back, her eyes searching my face for any traces of humor. But I was dead serious. I grabbed her and brought her back against me, letting her feel my hard body. “You’re the only girl I have eyes for.”

“Guys! The car is here.”

Bryan stepped back again when Smith opened the door to the black SUV. She climbed into the third row and when Dylan went to climb in next to her, Smith put his arm around her waist and gestured for me to get in. I loved my bandmate. I got in and sat down as close to B as possible. She was quiet, I could feel the confusion coming off her. The inside of the car was dark, the tinted windows not really letting in any light from the street. I reached for her hand, threading our fingers together. Our first kiss would not be in the backseat of a car with her sister sitting a few feet in front of us. I wanted to savor her.

***