Mister Dick

“There you are.”

I let out a jagged breath and turned as Georgia strode into the room, red hair swinging, big eyes flashing, and the fakest smile I’d ever seen lighting up her face. “Mama says dinner is ready.”

Boyd was slow to tear his eyes from mine and did so only when the doorbell rang. The sound was shrill, but none of us moved. I heard Marta chatting with someone and glanced at my watch. Hope bloomed in my chest, and I smiled. I glanced up, and the look in Boyd’s eyes stalled my triumph.

At that moment, Zach Gilbraid walked through the door, and Boyd’s face hardened. I moved toward him and reached up to hug Zach while he bent forward and pressed a kiss against my cheek. “Boyd Appleton?” he whispered, and I shivered as his words spilled across my skin. “We’re so fucking not even. In fact, after this weekend, I think you’re going to owe me big-time.”

Then he planted the biggest, hottest kiss ever on me, and for the first time since this ridiculous weekend began, I thought that maybe I would make it out alive. Maybe Boyd wouldn’t manage to break my heart all over again.

I slid my arms around Zach and turned to Boyd and Georgia. Her mouth hung open, and I saw her glance at Boyd, not bothering to hide her unease. Zach was homegrown Louisiana bred, with the blues in his blood and the talent to match. He looked like the love child of Brad Pitt and Jim Morrison. Which meant he was gorgeous and sexy and had an edge that rivaled Boyd’s. He was considered one of the best up-and-coming music producers in the world and could play a mean slide guitar, though he was damn good on the keys as well. He was also Boyd’s former best friend. Their falling-out was legendary, though the details had never been made public.

I was pretty sure Zach was going to make me pay for dragging him into this, but judging from the look on Boyd’s face, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

I’d owe Zach, but so what? Wasn’t protecting my heart worth the price?

I rested against Zach’s chest, feeling like I owned the chessboard, like I’d just moved into checkmate position. I felt powerful and thought that maybe I’d pull out a win after all.

“You’re just in time for dinner.” I glanced over to Marta who’d followed Zach into the room and smiled. “Can we get another setting?” My smile faltered when I caught sight of Boyd. The look in his eyes took a chunk out of my confidence. Then Zach gave me a push, and we sailed past Boyd and Georgia. There was no turning back. There was no glimpse into the future either. No way of knowing if I’d done the right thing.

I’d either screwed things up royally, or I’d saved my ass. Either way, I wouldn’t know until the weekend was over. As I sat down at the dining room table, my thoughts were glum and my stomach churned.

“I can’t wait to hear what the hell this is all about,” Zach said softly.

I shrugged but didn’t answer.

“Cheer up, Mansfield.” Zach leaned closer. “Maybe I’ll get to kick his ass after all, and won’t that be something?”

I didn’t answer because I couldn’t. I reached for my wineglass and prayed we had enough Pinot Noir to get me through.

18

Boyd

I glared across the table, my mood shit. I didn’t taste my food or booze, and the damn sugar pie made me want to puke. I’d eaten it because I knew Marta had gone to a lot of trouble to make it for me. It was my favorite. But tonight? Tonight, it tasted like sawdust, and the reason for that sat three feet away.

I knew she’d try something. Anything to get out of keeping things real. But shit, Zach Gilbraid?

He said something, and Echo giggled, which made want to grab the bottle of wine from the table and smash it against the wall. First of all, Echo didn’t giggle; it wasn’t her thing. Secondly, Zach wasn’t funny. In fact, the guy was too intense—his goddamn boxers were probably knotted up tighter than Fort Knox. So the way they were acting? It was fake. This whole thing was fake. Which made me want to leap across the table and grab him by the throat. Echo thought I was a dick? Shit, she didn’t know Zach the way I did. He was the biggest asshole this side of the Mason-Dixon, and the thought of him laying hands on her made me rage like I hadn’t since…

Well, since the last time I’d been in the same room with him.

I knew she’d invited him here for the express purpose of fucking with me. She knew our history, but she didn’t know the facts. And considering the facts made Zach look like an absolute douchebag, I supposed I could toss them out on the table right now. Except Echo wouldn’t believe me anyway. The press had made a big thing out of the so-called “rivalry between the young blues bucks,” but they’d gotten pretty much everything wrong. No one knew what had really gone down that night, and I’d made a promise to someone that no one ever would.

I sat back in my chair and downed the rest of my beer. I could change gears. Set my sights on Georgia because I knew it would rattle Echo’s cage. Sadly, there was a time when I would have been that guy—the kind to use a woman for his own needs. And I’m embarrassed to say it wasn’t that long ago.

But I wasn’t that guy anymore, and I was seriously asking myself why the fuck I’d come all the way out here to wrangle with Echo Mansfield when I could have been the nice guy who’d donated one million dollars to charity and called it a day.

Maybe this thing between us wasn’t worth it. Maybe the magic we’d created in that little cabin in the Catskills was all a dream. Maybe none of it was real.

Echo glanced over at me just then. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the entire bottle of wine she’d downed over dinner, and as our eyes met, the giggling slid away from her. She blew out a small breath and played with a long necklace that hung damn near to her waist. Then Zach leaned in to say something to her, and that was pretty much it for me.

I tossed my napkin on the table and got up. This whole thing was a mistake. What the hell had I been thinking?

“Where are you going?” Georgia looked up at me, her blue eye wide and questioning.

“I’ve had a long day, and I think I’ll head upstairs.”

“Oh.” I saw the disappointment and felt like an asshole, but I couldn’t find it in me to pretend anymore. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked.