Mission For Love (Love By Design 6)

“The next thing you know you’re going to be asking me, if this shirt makes me look fat, and I’m just trying to head off the awkward conversation now rather than later.”

I rolled my eyes. My brother, a fucking comedian.

I groaned reminding him, “She needs something do in Florida. Dad should buy her a boat or something. Didn’t you buy them out for a pretty penny?”

“Sure did, but you know Mom. Always hovering, always sneaking in things we don’t even realize we need.”

“Yeah, but I’d like some shirts that won’t strangle me. Maybe you should tell her this isn’t my size.” I dropped the medium shirt to the floor. I’d pick it up later.

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest puffing himself up. It was funny as little brothers go, but I had years of benching weights and hauling sixty pound packs of gear in the desert. I wasn’t better than him, just thicker.

“Dude. Do your laundry and it won’t be a problem.” He picked up the shirt and dropped it in my hamper. We both knew he wouldn’t correct mom on my shirt size any more than I would. We loved her too much for that. She liked to think we were still her little boys munching on apples and peanut butter, and playing peewee sports instead of the hulking giants we’d become.

I smiled finding a new way to torment him. “I could ask the barmaid to do it.”

“Remington is not doing your laundry.” His voice hardened and I proceeded poking the overprotective bear.

“I bet she’d do it if I asked nicely.” She would because she was too sweet and accommodating for her own good which was why I wasn’t going to ask her. She looked petrified of most guys and I wasn’t funning with her for kicks. Nothing made me more pissed off than a female terrified of her own shadow because some idiot male put that fear in her–but I did enjoy driving my brother nuts.

“She doesn’t need to be hauling your shit to the washer and dryer.” Our building didn’t have washers and dryers in the apartments. We had to slog everything downstairs to the basement level where we kept the industrial washer and dryer for the pub. “She’s got enough on her plate.” Andy was growly and defensive. If he wasn’t careful people would read too much into that. I already had my own questions about him offering her a job right off the bus, but whatever. I’d stick to handling the computers and not the HR functions of the business.

“Level with me, Andrew. Are you fucking her or is this–” I didn’t even get a chance to finish because Andy launched himself at me ready to fight. What my brother didn’t have in muscles he made up for with speed.

“What did I say about leaving her alone?” He got in my face and I felt my own temper building. I wouldn’t hit my brother over a young pretty red head, but that wasn’t to say I handled my anger any better these days than I had in the past.

“Chill out. I’m fucking with you.” I pushed him back and he stood down realizing I wasn’t going to do anything to the new girl who lived in our building and worked at the bar below. He hired her months ago, but I didn’t get back until a few weeks ago.

“I think she’s hanging out with some bad news football player from the school. I don’t like it. She’s this innocent little thing with no one to watch out for her.” Andrew leaned against the wall explaining even though he didn’t owe me an explanation. My heart clenched because I knew exactly where this came from.

“You know she isn’t…” I didn’t have to finish that sentence. My brother knew deep down. We both knew and it pained us equally in different ways.

“Yeah, I know she’s not her, but you know me. I take on the stray cats and try fixing them.” He shook his head. Sierra would always be between us. The broken girl who had nearly ripped our family apart and then left without a trace. It was better this way. Cleaner. More clear cut.

“You should come out with me then. Blow off some steam. We can call Chase and Hunter.” I mentioned our closest guy friends who still lived in town.

This time Andy made a pifting sound. “You really think the guys are going to come out and leave the girls at home?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, you never know. Besides, it’s been ages since we all hung out.” I missed conversation with Hunter and even his jackass cousin. Chase and I were pretty close playing football together, but it had been a while and I wasn’t the best at staying in touch.

“True, except the main bartender called out and I can’t leave Remi and Pedro alone to handle the crowd. She mixes a shitty drink and I haven’t had time to teach her properly besides uncorking wine and the bottled beer.”

“Fine, but don’t wait up for me. I’ll call an Uber if I need too.” We clapped backs in a distant hug and I made my way downstairs to take my bike.

I had no plans to get shit faced, but felt the need to drink something and ease the ache behind my eyes from the flashback I had earlier in the day. Remi’s piece of shit car back fired in the lot

behind the bar and I was still flinching. Feeling weak and not in control infuriated me, yet here I was prepared to drink my shitty problems away in a bar that wasn’t my family’s business in the next town over.

Hypocritical?

Maybe.

Hello oxy meet moron.

I never claimed to be perfect but, the demons in my head wouldn’t go away on their own.

2

Kiara