The Closer You Come. Gena Showalter
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questions asked.”
They were trying to make up for everything he’d lost. He wished he could comfort them, reassure them, but he’d never even been able to comfort or reassure himself. “For future reference,” he said, “a party isn’t the way to make me happy. I’d rather be alone than surrounded by strangers.”
More guilt from West, sorrow from Beck. Regret from Jase.
“I wanted to move here,” he said. “We’re here. That’s enough.” Six months ago, he’d asked the two to find him a new place to live. Somewhere outside city limits, where the crowds were thinner and the pace slower. West had connections out here, and what he’d described had enthralled Jase. Trees, hills, the closest neighbors miles away. And when the isolated famansion—farm-mansion, as he’d heard it called—suffered a foreclosure a short time later, the two had uprooted their entire lives, unwilling to let him make the move on his own. True, the estate needed a little TLC, but that was something Jase excelled at and was actually enjoying doing.
Beck had lived next to a golf course and West inside a room adjacent to their plush office suite in downtown Oklahoma City. Each place had been purchased soon after they’d created and sold some kind of computer program, hitting it big, and even when they’d made far more money, investing a huge chunk for Jase, they hadn’t bought bigger and better. Change had never been easy for either man. Jase knew that well, hated change himself, but the two had been willing to move here for him.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he would have survived the past nine shudder-inducing years without them or as if he’d have any kind of life now.
“Remember when we first met?” he asked, switching topics. Anything to distract the pair.
West cracked a smile. “The fosters had no idea their request for troubled adolescent boys to guide and nurture would lead to the three of us joining forces.”
Beck snorted. “I believe the mother—what was her name?—told my social worker we were fully capable of building an actual Death Star to destroy the world.”
They’d been eight, and the ten months Jase had spent living with the boys had been the best of his life, an unbreakable bond forming. Even after the system split them up, they’d never lost touch. They’d occasionally attended the same school or lived in the same neighborhood, but at sixteen, when they were able to pool the money they’d earned doing odd jobs, they’d bought a car, and that had been that. It had been the three of them against the world. Still was.
These men were the only people in the world Jase trusted. The only people he would ever trust. They were his family.
“Hey. What’s with the reminiscing?” West asked. “You wouldn’t be trying to avoid the mention of a certain girl...Brook Lynn Dillon?”
Jase rolled his eyes, even as his body quickened with...yearning?
“I’ll take that as a hell, yes,” Beck said, his grin wide and irreverent. “He hoped to avoid.”
“Are you wanting a gossip fest? Why don’t we paint our nails and give each other back massages?” Jase asked.
“Yes,” the two deadpanned in unison.
“I call dibs on the pink polish,” Beck added.
“No fair.” West pretended to pout. “I wanted the pink.”
“You guys aren’t ridiculous and immature at all.”
“But you love us anyway,” Beck said.
He did, and they loved him. “West, go kick everyone out of the house. And if you leave any popcorn crumbs on my sheets, your blood will soon join them. Beck, haul ass to the kitchen and cook your famous morning-after special. I’m starved.”
“On it.” West flew out of the room.
“Can do.” Beck grinned as he passed, even paused to pat Jase on the shoulder. “It’s not morning, but you sure did get screwed, didn’t you.”
TWO WEEKS AFTER “The Dunking,” the state of Brook Lynn’s life should have improved by leaps and bounds. What was the saying? When you were at the bottom of a pit, you had nowhere to go but up.
Somehow she’d managed to burrow deeper.
After she’d gotten Jessie Kay home from the party, the implants had basically short-circuited, causing massive headaches, uncontrollable dizziness and extreme nausea. She’d had to have them replaced the very next day with a surgery that accumulated thousands of dollars in medical bills. Insurance had refused to pay, citing the devices were still experimental. A ridiculous excuse. But Jase hadn’t yet contacted her to settle their debt—thank God he’d insisted on paying his part—and she desperately needed the money.
The new implants required three days of complete bed rest to heal and attach to her canals properly. Three days without pay. As soon as she’d recovered, Jessie Kay had taken off for who-knew-where, looking for a man to console her after Jase’s rejection. For two days after that, Brook Lynn had been forced to work double shifts.
Jessie Kay had come back, only to take off again and return last night. Now Brook Lynn called her sister’s cell to tell her to keep her butt home and rested for tomorrow, but she went straight to voice mail. Dang it! The girl was off carousing again, wasn’t she?
Argh! Her sister sometimes reminded her of a mouse in a wheel, spinning, spinning, but never going anywhere. Of course, the same could be said of herself, she realized with a sigh, simply in a different way. Jessie Kay chased guys. Brook Lynn chased Jessie Kay.
Perhaps it was time for a change.
Perhaps? Why was that even a question?
As she began cleaning Two Farms for closing, she thought back to the “fun list” she and Kenna had created a few weeks ago. Fun—something neither of them had ever really experienced. The list of activities was supposed to spice up their lives. The plan? Try every flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, text I hid the body to a random number. Be Cinderella for a day, and eat a real Krabby Patty. Get a tattoo, TP someone’s house, solve a case with Sherlock and Watson. Ask out a boy. Throw a drink in someone’s face, gulp blue Gatorade out of a Windex bottle. Jump into a body of water with all of their clothes on. Spy on someone. Oh, and speak with a fake accent for an entire day.
The last was the only thing Brook Lynn had done. Meanwhile, Kenna the overachiever had done everything. Dane had made it his mission to ensure she checked off every item on the list.
Brook Lynn simply hadn’t had time for the others. Or, to be honest, the inclination. But...maybe she needed to start despite her lack of enthusiasm. Just pick something and go, go, go. Like...asking out a boy...even seducing one.
An image of Jase flashed through her mind. What he might have looked like minutes before she’d entered his bedroom. Naked, flat on his back and hard as a rock.
No! Oh, no. Jase? She recoiled...even as she shivered. The man had used and discarded her sister, leaving no doubt he would use and discard Brook Lynn. If he even wanted her. So, ask him out? No. Nope. Never. The guy she picked would give her what she hadn’t had since the death of her mother: security.
A long-term commitment with a nice man with a nice income and the unending patience required to deal with Jessie Kay without sleeping with her, flirting with her or hurting her feelings seemed like just the ticket.
Attainable. Surely.
He had to live in Strawberry Valley, be over twenty but under forty, and he had to have had steady employment for at least a year. He had to be stable, reliable and in no way a fixer-upper. So, of all the eligible men in town, that left...
A few too many, surprisingly enough. To narrow the playing field, she decided he could have zero history with Jessie Kay. Well, well. That left only one name. Brad