More Than Enough (Pelican Bay 4)

I closed my eyes to try and force Newt’s confused expression from my brain as I swung the sledgehammer.

You’re coming back, right?

The sound of wood being smashed to bits did nothing to ease the tension swimming throughout my body.

I wanted another chance with you.

Even now, it was like Jett was right next to me. I could still feel his soft lips against mine just like I could feel his strong fingers stroking my back, then my ass.

I wanted another chance with you.

“Fuck!” I snapped as I let go of the sledgehammer as soon as it made contact with what remained of the siding of the dilapidated shed. My arms burned as I watched the tool crash onto the pile of shredded wood.

As my oxygen-starved lungs pulled in one ragged breath after another, I lifted my eyes and scanned the trees that towered above me. Strangely enough, the huge pines made me feel a bit safer, protected even. It was one of the many reasons I’d bought the land.

“Jesus, between the two of you I’m going to have to dig two big-ass holes to dump your bodies into.”

I was too tired to even jump at the sound of Dallas’s scratchy voice. I dropped my ass down to the tree stump I’d been using as a makeshift chair for the better part of two days as I’d taken all my rage out on the run-down, useless outbuildings on the property. I reached into the cooler next to the stump and pulled out a beer.

“Great, sledgehammers and alcohol,” Dallas said as he sat down on a smaller stump about ten feet from mine.

I tossed him a beer and said, “I’ve been drinking water while working, Dad. But something tells me not even this stuff”—I held up the beer a bit—“is going to do me much during the speech.”

“The speech?” Dallas asked as he opened his beer and took a swig.

“Come on, Sawyer, you’re better than this. What are you doing lying to a little kid, Sawyer? What happened to the guy who had his shit together? Never pegged you as a coward, Sawyer,” I blurted.

When Dallas didn’t immediately respond, I found myself fidgeting on my so-called chair. Within seconds, I was on my feet and throwing the bits and pieces of wood around the pile onto it instead. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t enough of it.

“What?” I finally snapped as I cast a look over my shoulder at Dallas.

Dallas took another long, slow drink before saying, “Damn, that had to be one fucking great kiss.”

That was what he wanted to talk about?

“Jesus, Dallas,” I groaned as I sat back down. “The kiss was…”

“A mistake,” Dallas finished for me, his tone as cool as a cucumber.

Before I could even respond, he continued with, “I mean, how would something like that even work between you two? He’s Black, you’re white. He’s got no job or prospects and you’re an expert in your field. Not to mention, he’s in that chair. Guy probably can’t even get it up—”

I was on Dallas before he could finish the sentence.

“Shut the fuck up, Dallas!” I snarled as I grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “He’s amazing, do you hear me? And if you think I give a shit about something like skin color or careers, then you don’t know a fucking thing about me. And I promise you, that chair isn’t going to stop him from taking what he wants—”

The smile that kept getting bigger and bigger on Dallas’s face finally registered in my brain.

Fucker was playing me… and had been the whole time.

“Asshole,” I snapped before I released Dallas and took several steps back.

“If it helps, none of this was my idea,” Dallas said with a chuckle as he searched out his beer which he’d dropped when I’d grabbed him. He found it, wiped the grass off the neck and then took a long draw on it as he sat back down.

“Nolan,” I muttered.

“Nope, think a lot shorter and sporting an evil genius streak that he’s been hiding from all of us.”

“Newt?” I said in surprise.

“Kid’s got skills,” Dallas returned. “But I suppose Nolan and I might be somewhat responsible for that. Nolan’s on this romantic comedy movie kick and Newt may have watched one or two… or thirty. And they pretty much all follow the same formula. Guy meets girl, they kiss a bunch, guy screws up and loses girl and then finally the girl’s or boy’s friends help boy get girl back through some kind of scheme.” Dallas grinned before saying, “I suppose I should have seen it coming when he asked what reverse psychology meant.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The little boy’s mother actually had been a genius, after all, and he had been named after the most recognized Newton in the world…well, second maybe, since I was pretty sure Fig Newton cookies had become a household name at some point.