Tap (Men of Lovibond 1)

“I guess.”

“It’s a damn good plan but first let me catch you up before we call. She’s at Tybee Island today with Ivy and Kelsey. She texted a picture of them at the beach drinking Pale Hazels. Porter says they do that a lot.”

Stout laughs. “Yeah. They’re always clowning around like that.”

“These clowns are wearing bikinis.”

“Dammit. I’m missing out on Ivy and Kelsey in bikinis? That sucks.”

I pick up his phone to look at the picture again. “Trust me. Nothing about this picture sucks.”

“Shut up, man. My sister is in that picture.”

“You never told me your sister was so . . .” I recall what Porter said about Stout being overprotective of Lawrence and decide to forego the use of the word hot. “Pretty.”

“You think my sister is pretty?”

“Yeah.” Among a lot of other things I won’t mention.

“I know you and what you do with women. I’m certain pretty is a substitute for the real word you’re thinking. So keep your eyeballs in your head when it comes to Lawry.” He doesn’t sound pleased. But he’s the one who assigned this job to me.

Porter was right. Stout is nothing less than a bear when it comes to his sister. “I didn’t mean anything like that.”

“Be sure you keep it that way. As far as you’re concerned, Lawry is prohibited. Forbidden fruit. Untouchable.”

“You seem to have a very low opinion of me when it comes to women, but let me tell you something. I was faithful in my marriage until Bridgette suggested we see other people. I’ve never been one to mess with women’s feelings, and I still don’t. I’m clear with any woman who comes into my bed. It’s sex and nothing more.”

“That’s fine as long as my sister doesn’t join your harem.”

I wonder what he thinks I could do to her given she’s in Savannah. My dick’s impressive but it doesn’t reach Georgia.

“Anything else you need to tell me?” Stout asks.

I’ve had so little communication with her this week, there’s nothing to tell. “I don’t think so.”

“Then let’s make this call.”

Lawrence’s phone is ringing when I switch over to connect Stout. “You’re there?”

“I’m here.”

One ring. Two. Three. “Hello?”

“Hey, sis. Is this a bad time? You still at the beach with Ivy and Kelsey?”

“Ollie. You little shit. I’ve been trying to reach you for days. Why haven’t you called me?”

“I have. Just now.”

“You know what I mean, ass monkey.” I read Lawrence’s texts to her brother, and thought she was funny, but hearing her smart-ass mouth is so much more entertaining.

“I’ve been super busy with the festival. Every free minute I’ve had has gone to preparing for it.”

Lawrence hesitates. “I know you’re busy, but I’ve been worried because you haven’t responded to half of my texts. And the ones you’ve sent don’t sound like you at all.”

“I’m sorry, Lawry. I don’t know what to say except I’ve been swamped with work.”

“It’s okay. I understand. But please don’t ignore me again. I don’t like it.”

“I promise to not ignore you but I’m having some phone trouble. I won’t get my new one for a couple days. They had to order the phone I wanted so don’t be worried if you can’t get me for a little while.”

“Whose phone are you using now?”

“My partner’s. You can call his number in case of an emergency.”

“You must mean Lucas Broussard, the partner I’ve never met.” Am I imagining it or does she sound a little disappointed to have never met me?

“Don’t act like that’s my fault. You’d have met Tap years ago if you ever left your business long enough to visit someone.”

“Like you ever leave the brewery, Ollie.”

“Maybe not often but I come home to see you at least three times a year.”

“Twice a year . . . at best.”

“That’s two times more a year than you come to Birmingham.”

“You know how much work it is running your own business.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll surprise you one day soon and pop into Birmingham for a visit without any warning.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“All right. I guess we’ll see then, won’t we?”

“How is the witchery shop?”

“You can be such a jackhole sometimes.”

“I can be but I’m actually being serious. How is business?”

“No complaints. Except my asshole landlord raised my rent another two hundred bucks. Greedy bastard.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Absolutely. Just two hundred bucks poorer every month. But what can I do? I’m in a prime location.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t all right?”

“Of course. Sales have been up every quarter since I moved the shop to River Street. It was a great decision to relocate. You wouldn’t believe the tourist traffic I get.”

“I guess the drunks get out of the ghost tour bus and want to buy some voodoo supplies before they leave the market.”

“There you go with the assholery again, Ollie.”

“You know I’m playing ’cause I want you to smile. And be happy.”

“I am happy. Re

ally.”

“Does that include your personal life as well?”

“You know me. Single and loving it. I do what I want, whenever I like. No one to answer to and I like it that way. But you already know that.” Hmmm. Miss Lawrence Thorn sees things similarly to me. Interesting.

“I know it very well.”

“Since you know, the real question would be how is your life post Hurricane Eden?”

Stout hesitates and for a moment, and I’m not sure if he plans to answer his sister. “Not great.”

“I thought as much. Have you seen or heard from her?”

“Nope. Not since the night I walked in on her fucking him in my bed.” Whoa. I didn’t know the shit had gone down like that.

“I should cast a spell to make every stringy red strand of her badly dyed hair fall out.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that. If something bad happened to Eden I’d wonder if you had a hand in it.”

“I was kidding, Ollie. Remember the law of attraction. Positive attracts positive. Negative attracts negative. So have faith. Karma will take care of Eden’s ass.”

“And I’ll be in the front row enjoying the show.”

“Right. But don’t let it bring you too much joy. Instead, surround yourself with positivity and rise above it.”

“I need to run but I’ll try to give you a call next Sunday after things settle down with the festival.”

“Sounds good.”

“Love you, sis.”

“Love you, too. Try to enjoy the festival. Don’t run yourself ragged and miss out on all the fun.”

“You got it. Talk soon.”

I think I hear the sound of Lawrence ending the call but I keep quiet. If anyone is going to screw this up, it’s going to be Stout. Not me.

“You still there, Lawry?” Stout asks.

No answer. My all-clear. “Dude. What the hell was that?”

Part of me wanted to join in on their conversation especially when she mentioned Hurricane Eden—great name for that bitch.

Lawry sounds a little eccentric. Fuck me if I’m not interested to know more, but what the hell was that about her shop and casting spells?