Rough Edge (Tannen Boys 2)

Reed’s talking to Emily, but I see his eyes cut back toward the door Erica disappeared through.

Emily claps. “That’s a great idea! She’ll have to come if you’re coming.”

I get the feeling there’s more there than I know. But Erica was just as close to kissing me as I was to kissing her. In fact, if Reed hadn’t blasted that drill, I would know what Erica’s lips taste like right now. I’m betting sour cherries, something with a little bite to it, just like her.

I square up to Reed, meeting his eyes. The testosterone in the air between us charges. He’s not small, probably only an inch or so shorter than me, and he’s lean muscle, built from working hard. I’m the same way, never been to a gym in my life, but ranch life has made me wide and strong. The dozens of fights I’ve been in over the course of my life have made me a tough motherfucker too. If push came to shove, I’m thinking Reed could make company in that pasture with whoever it was who’d called Erica by her full name.

“Yeah. Let’s all get a drink.”

Emily smiles at the agreement. Reed hears it for what it is, though.

It’s on, asshole.

Thirty minutes later, we’re walking into a bar. Not the resort, thank fuck. Erica had vetoed that with an ‘abso-fucking-lutely not,’ which I was glad for. Instead, we’re at a rundown, black-painted wooden building with a bunch of faded beer signs nailed to the outside. I swear one is for Zima, and I don’t think that’s been for sale in decades. I remember my mom drinking it a time or two, though, back when I was a kid.

“Seriously, Rix? Can’t we go anywhere else?” Emily seems put out by the venue that is rough and rock-oriented and is drastically different from the resort, which is probably more her speed.

“Two Roses or I’m going home. Take it or leave it.” Under her breath, she grumbles to herself. “Not sure how I ended up agreeing to this, anyway.”

I know how I got here. I’m here for Erica.

On the surface, I feel like I need to protect her from Reed, even though that doesn’t really make sense. Hell, he probably needs protection from her, not that I’d interrupt if she took a wrench to his neck.

It’s a good cover, though, even though I know the truth.

I’m here to pick at her rough edges and see where she frays, to make her eyes shoot fireworks as she cusses me out, and maybe to find out if I’m right about the sour cherry taste of her lips.

We find a round table and sit down, fate conspiring with me and putting Erica on one side and Emily on the other, with Reed across from me. Look at us, all boy-girl like it’s a damn cotillion. I snort inside at the stupid joke, like there’s ever been a cotillion out here in podunk country. I’ve only ever read about them in old historical stories, but the thought that this rock bar would host one makes my lips twist sardonically.

The waitress comes over, her black-dyed hair the same color as her thick-soled knee boots, torn fishnets, skirt, and tank top. The only color she sports is the slash of red lipstick and the neon-green lip ring.

Toto, I’m not in Kansas anymore.

“Hey, Monica. Can we get a pitcher and four glasses?” Erica orders for the table.

Emily cringes, holding up a finger. “Oh, could I get a red wine instead, please?”

Monica’s sharpie-thin brow lifts as she looks from Emily to Erica. “Rix, your sister for real?”

“I wish I could say no, but tell Rob to just make her whatever the college girls are drinking these days. Something fruity.”

“You make a Great Falls Flyer?” I deadpan.

Emily beams, delighted that I remembered her drink. Erica cuts her eyes to me, narrowing them as she tries to decide whether I’m joking or not. I am, and eventually, she seems to realize the sarcastic bend of my humor because she blinks and lets me out of her laser beam gaze.

Monica laughs. “Yeah, no. But Rob can do something, I’m sure.” It sounds like whatever Rob is going to mix up is going to be sweet, sugary, and godawful. But Monica goes to fetch it and the beers.

Silence descends on the table, Reed and Emily looking around easily, but the thread between Erica and me is pulled tight, keeping my full focus on her. It might as well be only her and me for all the attention I’m giving her. She’s studiously avoiding looking at me, but I’ve seen her eyes jump my way five times already and we just sat down. She might’ve pawned me off, but like selling Grandma’s ring for the cash, she’s not entirely sure about it.

Emily jumps in to fill the stretching quiet easily.