“What? Who?” Maverick turned back to his brother with a frown.
“Elle. She’s pissed that you aren’t returning her emails or text messages.”
Christ, that woman never gave up. “She’ll be waiting until hell freezes over.”
“Something tells me that as long as the publicity machine keeps turning, she’ll be willing to wait that long.”
Maverick didn’t want to talk about Elle. “Look, you don’t need to worry about Charlie. Even if she knew who we are, or who we’re related to, she wouldn’t talk. It’s just not the way she is. She’s not like that.”
“I guess we’ll find out sooner or later,” Cooper replied as he pulled into a marina about a half an hour from the family compound. He parked and nodded toward the water. “I’ve got Jack’s boat. Let’s head out.”
Maverick grabbed his bag from the back of the car and checked his cell phone before following his brother to the boat. There was a message from his mother. A missed call from Cooper.
And nothing else.
Not that he’d been expecting something from Charlie. Mainly because he’d said that he would call her, but mostly because it wasn’t her style. She wasn’t the clingy type. He debated whether to place a call before heading out, but Cooper shouted at him to hurry the hell up. Maverick pocketed his cell and decided that he’d call her later when he had some time. And better yet, when he was alone.
He strode toward the boat, glad that he’d be seeing his family in less than an hour, but sad that one of them wasn’t going to be there. He glanced up at the night sky as he hopped on board The Donnie. The stars were just beginning to show their faces and he wondered if Teague could see them.
Wherever the hell he was.
Chapter Eighteen
By noon Charlie knew that her day was going to run late. They’d closed the shop Saturday because of the sled run and subsequently were overbooked. That was a direct result of several sleds that had come into the shop with varying degrees of damage, all caused from the run. All of the bays were full and there were two cars and three skidoos parked outside.
Normally Davis had Mondays off, but today they were both working and it looked as if they’d be working through lunch. Which was fine. She wasn’t all that hungry and she needed a distraction.
“We have another car coming in,” Davis said, walking into the shop area from the front.
Charlie slid out from under the truck she was working on. “There’s no room. All the bays are full.”
“I’ll make room,” Davis said with a grin. “Trust me, we want this car in the shop.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, sliding back underneath the Chevy.
“What the hell is your problem today?” Davis chirped, somewhere beyond her line of vision.
She could give him a list that was a mile long, but none of it would be the reason for her foul mood.
“Why the hell are you in such a good mood?” she countered. Seriously. The guy had been whistling and singing all morning—and Davis never sang. If Charlie had to hear him sing about rolling windows down and cruising one more time, she just might explode. It was as if Davis was crapping rainbows or something.
Or something.
Wheeling out from underneath the truck once more, Charlie rolled over onto the cold concrete and got to her feet.
“You got laid,” she said loudly, hands on her hips. She didn’t mean it to sound like an accusation but it so did.
“Excuse me?” Davis shoved his hands into the pockets of his coveralls, pinned her with a look that told her everything. He looked good. Satisfied. Sing-song satisfied.
“You got laid,” she repeated, rubbing her greasy hands along the thighs of her work clothes. “That’s why you’re in such a good mood. I mean really Davis, you’re whistling the theme song from Rocky for Christ sake.”
He shrugged. “Well, if I got laid, isn’t it my business?”
“Nice try,” she replied, walking toward him and not stopping until she was a few inches away. “Who is she?”
But she didn’t give Davis a chance to answer. Her mind raced and she thought back to Saturday night. He’d been in a mood because Ava was on the sled run with Seth, so she was guessing…
“Okay, so you had angry sex—“