Page 8 of Down on Me


  He was giving her that power, and it humbled her so much that it was on the tip of her tongue to say something snarky and silly. The kind of thing she'd said to Reece-the-best-friend a million times. But those words wouldn't come for the Reece standing in front of her. They felt wrong. Off.

  And so she said the only thing she could; she said, "Thank you."

  "You're welcome," he said, his eyes staying right on hers, his voice so low and raw that it seemed to vibrate inside her. She swallowed, her hand closing around her Diet Coke, but she couldn't seem to conjure the will to lift it to her lips or to look away.

  Beside her, Amanda cleared her throat. "Um, Reece?"

  His head snapped to her, and the moment--or whatever the hell it was--evaporated like water on a hot Texas day.

  Amanda cocked her head, indicating a couple who'd just settled onto two empty bar stools.

  "Right." Reece glanced down the bar, saw that Eric was at the other end mixing drinks for a group of customers, and slid down to help the new people.

  Immediately Amanda turned to Jenn, her eyes wide. "What was that?"

  "What?" Jen asked, feigning ignorance.

  "Don't even. For a second there, I thought I was going to have to tell you two to get a room."

  "Oh, please." Jenna's face burned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Fine. I used to like playing make-believe, too. Then I grew up." She smiled and batted her eyes. "He wouldn't be a bad one to grow old with, I've got to say."

  "Will you lower your voice?" Jenna shot an uneasy glance toward Reece. "And there isn't anything going on. He's one of my best friends."

  "With benefits?"

  "Dammit, Amanda, stop."

  Amanda studied her for a second then took a thoughtful sip of her Cosmo before leaning back in her stool. "My mistake," she said. "Consider it dropped."

  "Let's just focus on the project in front of me and not your overactive imagination, okay?"

  Amanda lifted her hands in surrender. "You'll want to get the word out. Do you want me to talk to Nolan?"

  "Would you? That would be great." Amanda's stepbrother Nolan worked in radio, and although Jenna hadn't listened to his show since she moved back, she'd heard that he had a huge following for his comedic schtick mixed with local and classic tunes.

  "No problem. And you'll need legal releases for the models. Probably the contestants, too. You'll want their pictures for promo, right?"

  "Good point." She caught Reece's eye as he added a cherry to the drink he was making. "Who are we using for the partnership documents?"

  His mouth curved into a frown. "Good question. We'll want someone other than Tyree's usual lawyer. Conflict of interest and all that." He glanced at Amanda. "You must work with attorneys all the time."

  "Real estate, sure. But I can ask for a recommendation for y'all."

  "Don't worry," Jenna said. "I'm going out with Easton tonight after the bridal event. I'll ask him if he can do it. Or if he can recommend someone."

  "Easton?" Amanda's perfectly shaped brows rose. "How interesting."

  Jenna laughed. "Hey, you tossed him aside."

  She could feel Reece's eyes on her, and she made it a point not to turn toward him.

  "I didn't exactly toss him, so much as the wind blew us in different directions. I just didn't realize you two had kept in touch."

  "He called me a few months ago when he had depositions in LA. He was there for a week, and we went out a couple of times. He's a good guy."

  "He's a great guy," Amanda agreed. Her lips curved into a wicked smile. "Yeah, I'd say great is a very accurate description."

  "Amanda!" This time, Jenna didn't manage to check the instinct that had her glancing at Reece. He was squirting soda into a highball glass--and he overfilled the thing.

  "Damn," he muttered, as she looked quickly away.

  "It's just drinks and dessert," Jenna said, ostensibly to Amanda, but loud enough for Reece to hear. Which was stupid. Because why should he care who she went out with? And why should she care what he thought?

  Except, of course, she knew the answer to that question. It just happened to be a question--and an answer--that she didn't want to ponder too deeply.

  "At any rate," she said, her voice clipped and firm, "the point is that I can ask him about the partnership documents and the releases. And I want to ask him about non-monetary compensation for work, too."

  Both Reece and Amanda looked blank.

  "Like if Maia agrees to help me out with some of the marketing work--I don't want to pay her cash since that defeats the purpose. But maybe a book of No Cover Charge coupons. Same goes for whatever carpenter we find to work on the stage."

  "Oh, I may know somebody for that," Amanda said. "I know a guy who flips houses. In fact, I'm supposed to show him the Drysdale mansion again next week. That'll be the third time he's walked through it, and if he buys..." She trailed off with a whistle. "Well, that commission could keep me in chocolate and Cosmos for a long time, you know?"

  "That's the huge mansion close to the Capitol building, right? The one that needs all the work."

  "That's it." Amanda shrugged. "At any rate, if he's got the time, he might be interested in doing it."

  "Yeah? And he's good?"

  "Well, actually--"

  Jenna rolled her eyes. "I mean his work, not his cock."

  "Women," Reece muttered, but he looked amused.

  "I don't know," Amanda said, looking prim. "Ours is a purely professional relationship."

  "First time for everything," Jenna quipped, then ducked to avoid the balled-up napkin her friend tossed her way.

  Reece shook his head in mock exasperation, then signaled to them that he'd be back soon before moving down to the far end of the long bar to go over something with Eric.

  "But seriously," Amanda continued, "he used to have one of those remodeling shows on television. And every property he's worked on that I've sold for him has been top-notch. So he must have some idea what he's doing."

  "He sounds like a real possibility," Jenna said. "You'll shoot me his info?"

  "Of course. Although if he buys the mansion, he probably won't have time." She pursed her lips, considering. "Actually, I just thought of someone even better. My friend Brooke does commercial renovations, and she mentioned that she's looking for a high-profile project."

  "Why? And what does that even mean?"

  "Not a clue," Amanda admitted. "But I'll set up a meeting and you can figure it out. Call it my good deed for the day, even if you are a total bitch."

  "Who's a bitch?" Reece's cousin, Mike, looking young and eager, staggered under two racks full of recently washed beer glasses. He plunked them down on the counter and started to put them away.

  "According to Amanda, I am. But she loves me anyway. Which is why she's getting the check, right? My turn next, once I'm gainfully employed?"

  "I already told you this one was on me," Amanda agreed. "You look familiar," she added to Mike. "Do I know you?"

  "Reece's cousin," Jenna said. "I think y'all must have met somewhere, but who knows? You're a senior now, right?"

  "Yup," Mike said. "Turned eighteen a few months ago, and I start at the University in the fall. Working as many hours as I can until then. Stocking up on cash, you know."

  "Very responsible of you," Jenna said, as Amanda mouthed, Too young. Too bad.

  Jenna rolled her eyes. Amanda liked to pretend she slept with anything that moved, but Jenna knew better. Her friend was more discriminating than that. But she never, ever got serious about a guy. Or, at least, she hadn't yet, despite Jenna's best efforts to pair Amanda with someone.

  "Listen, I need to run," Jenna said. "I need to get all these ideas organized plus do some research for tonight."

  "No prob," Amanda said. "Do you want me to drive you? Or are you going to call a ride share?"

  "Oh, you don't have to do that," Mike said, squinting at a glass, and then polishing away some water spots.

 
"I don't?" Jenna looked to Amanda, who shrugged, just as confused. "Why don't I?"

  "Because Reece got you a car." He was grinning ear to ear. "It's out back. He said you'd be surprised."

  "He said he wanted to see the look on her face when she saw the surprise," Reece said, coming down the bar and smacking Mike with a hand towel. "Jerk."

  "Sorry! I didn't want her running off to get an Uber or something."

  "You seriously got me a car?" She couldn't take her eyes off Reece, standing there like a knight, his grin at least as bright as armor. "How could you afford that?"

  "Didn't cost much," he said. "I made it for you. Or, rather, I restored it. Come on. It's parked in the loading zone out back."

  Her heart hitched, and she tried to remember when, if ever, someone had done a thing like that for her. As far as she could recall, the answer was a big, fat never.

  But there it was, a 1972 El Camino in a bright yellow. A classic cross between a truck and a car with a single bench seat in the front and a truck bed in the back. "Isn't that your grandfather's old car?"

  "He bought himself a Lincoln. Said if I could get this one running again, I could have it. And since I knew you were coming back to Austin without a car..." He trailed off with a shrug. "It only took me a weekend. Well, once I got serious about fixing it up for you. I've been fiddling with it here and there during my days off."

  She turned to him, her hand pressed over her heart. "Reece." His name seemed to stick in her throat. "I can't believe you did this."

  He reached for her hand, then squeezed lightly before pulling back, leaving the key ring behind. "Can't you?"

  She lifted the keys, then fisted her hand around the metal, still warm from his touch. "Truthfully? I can. You got Mike a job. You're helping Tyree out. Of course, you got me a car." She cocked her head, looking at him. "I bet you're re-roofing your dad's place."

  He chuckled. "No, just refinishing his kitchen cabinets."

  She stepped forward, then rose up on tiptoes to brush a kiss over his cheek, his beard tickling her lips. "You're a good man, Reece Walker."

  "Wait until you see how it drives before you go making assessments like that." He held the door open for her, and she got in, then rolled down the window once he closed the door. After a second, he cleared his throat. "Don't forget to talk to Easton about all the legal stuff. He can give me a call about the partnership documents."

  "I won't forget." She slipped the key in the ignition but didn't start the car. He was still holding onto the window. "Um, anything else?"

  "Huh? Oh, right." He lifted his hand away. "I was just wondering what you've got planned for Saturday."

  "Oh." Her stomach did a little flip. "I don't know. Why?"

  "The Fix is going to have a booth at Eeyore's Birthday Party. Brent and I were hoping you'd be coming, too. He's bringing Faith, of course."

  "Oh," she repeated, as a thin sheen of disappointment settled over her. Which was ridiculous. She loved Eeyore's Birthday Party. The annual event at Pease Park was an Austin tradition, and she'd been going since she was a little girl. Plus, she loved Brent and Faith, and would happily work the bar's booth if they needed her. So what did she have to be disappointed about?

  Absolutely nothing, she told herself firmly. Not one, single thing.

  And with that, she turned the key, felt the engine rumble to life, and heard herself saying, "You know what? That sounds just about perfect for a Saturday."

  Easton Wallace was a goddamn bastard.

  That, at least, was Reece's current assessment of the man. Since Jenna had left, it had changed pretty much hourly--actually, a hell of a lot more frequently than that--and had ranged from lucky s-o-b to conniving lady-killer who needed to be stopped.

  Not to mention every insult in between.

  Which was probably a little unfair. After all, Reece had gone out with Easton for drinks a couple of times since that night at the Broken Spoke. And it was Reece himself who'd reminded Jenna to ask Easton about legal work.

  What the hell had he been thinking?

  Was he deliberately pushing her toward Easton? Toward any man other than himself?

  Hell yeah, he was.

  Why? Because Reece sucked at relationships, and Jenna deserved a good man.

  And even if he didn't crash and burn every time he was with a woman, even if he didn't think that marriage was a convoluted ritual designed to kill passion and foment discontent, he still wouldn't pursue Jenna. Too much risk.

  He'd much rather spend his life without her in his bed so long as it meant that she was in his life.

  So why did he have the urge to bloody his fist against Easton's aristocratic nose?

  Because the thought of Easton's hands--or, God forbid, his mouth--on Jenna was enough to make Reece--

  "You okay?"

  Reece spun around to find Brent leaning against the door frame of the small office where Reece had been pacing. "What?"

  "You're prowling. You worried about all of this? Partnership? The plan?"

  "Huh?" Reece shook his head, trying to shift gears. "What? No. No, not at all. I'm just thinking about Jenna."

  Fuck. He hadn't meant to say that.

  "I mean her job interview," he continued before Brent interrogated him. "This trial by fire tonight." He glanced at his watch. Past nine. "Guess we'll be hearing soon how it went."

  "I bet she nailed it. You know Jenna. Whatever she puts her mind to..."

  "Yeah, you're right. I'm just--doesn't matter. I'm going to go relieve Cameron." Reece pushed past Brent, feeling like he'd dodged a bullet, then headed toward the back bar and tapped Cam on the shoulder. "Go take your dinner break. I'll cover for you."

  "Yeah?" Cam's brow furrowed, probably because Reece usually didn't cover for the employees when they were well-staffed. Today, however, Reece wanted the distraction of mixing drinks--because if he was thinking about the pour, that meant he wasn't thinking about Jenna.

  He spent the next hour pouring drinks, circulating among the customers, chatting up the regulars, and generally keeping his mind on the work--and absolutely nothing else.

  He'd mostly succeeded in pushing thoughts of Jenna behind a mental curtain when the vibration of his phone in his hip pocket startled him. He snatched it out, glanced at the screen, and everything he'd been fighting against fell away.

  It was Jenna.

  He answered on the second ring. "Hey, how'd the interview go? Do you know--"

  "Reece?" Her voice cracked.

  "Jenna?"

  He heard a gulp, then a gasp. Then her words came, tight and strangled. "Can you hear me?"

  Christ, was she crying? "Hey, hey, calm down." He kept his voice low and soothing, the way he did when he was sitting with Faith, and she woke up from a nightmare. Inside, though, his heart was pounding. "Are you okay?" Images of car wrecks filled his mind. Or lanky, muscled teens with iron pipes in their hands and anger on their faces. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

  "I just--I just--" Her voice broke, and he heard her draw in a loud breath, obviously trying to pull herself together. "I'm sorry," she finally managed. "I know you're working. But can you come? Please, Reece. I need you to come."

  Chapter Ten

  Jenna paced the length of the car and back again, her feet moving because if she stopped, she'd cry or scream or throw herself into the bed of the El Camino and cry like a baby.

  Dammit. How could she have been so stupid? So ridiculously naive?

  And where was Reece? He should be here by now. She wasn't more than fifteen minutes from downtown, and she'd called at least twenty minutes ago. But he still hadn't come, and the more the minutes ticked by, the stupider she felt for ringing him in the first place. She should have called Brent. Or Amanda. Or, hell, she could have called Easton.

  But her fingers had dialed Reece, and now he was going to see her like this, worn down, defeated, and a sniveling, mascara-lined mess.

  Where was he?

  She wiped her eyes again as the s
queal of tires echoed in the distance, followed by headlights cresting the small hill that led to the parking lot she was currently pacing. And then Blue pulled up, and Reece was sprinting from the truck to her side.

  "Jenna." His hands clasped her upper arms, and he held her in place as he examined her, his eyes taking in every inch of her, his inspection so meticulous that she knew he must be seeing her disappointment, her embarrassment, her frustration.

  Her fear.

  Not of the dark. Not of the dangers of being stranded in a dark and secluded parking lot.

  No, this fear was new, and it stemmed from the wildness she saw in his expression. A fire so intense it could reduce her to ashes. And she saw something else, too. A promise. Or maybe a threat.

  She wasn't sure. But as he bent toward her, she felt her breath catch in her throat and her chest tighten in anticipation. He was going to kiss her.

  She drew in a sharp breath, and the sound acted as a talisman, breaking the spell. He froze, his posture shifting almost imperceptibly, but enough for Jenna to know that the possibility of a kiss had faded with that errant breath--and she wasn't sure if she should be relieved or very, very disappointed.

  "God, Jenna, you scared the hell out of me. Are you okay?"

  He pulled her close, crushing her against his chest. And at that moment, she realized just how worried he'd been--and how desperately she'd needed to see him tonight.

  His fingers dug into her arms as he eased her back away from him. This time, his eyes fixed on hers. He released his grip, then brushed her hair back from her face, the gesture so tender she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him close.

  "I'm okay," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. "I'm okay now."

  "What happened? Are you hurt? Did someone--"

  "No. Nothing like that." She swallowed, gathering herself, then stepped back. Her emotions had been all over the place--she'd been all over the place. But now that he was here, she felt calmer. And all the more foolish because of it.

  "I--it's not as bad as you'd think from looking at me. Promise. It's just, I don't know. Everything piled up on top of everything else. I mean, I'd thought they were serious about me getting this job, but then--"

  "You didn't get it?"