Cole's Mistake (Haven, Texas 8)

“With them? With whom?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Deputy Dickhead tilted his head to the side. “You mean, Julian and Keira? Why do you care?”

There was a note of derision in the other man’s voice, as though just the thought was ridiculous. And it was. Why would they want him back? But that hadn’t stopped him from trying to find them. Because even if they’d found someone else, he still wanted to tell them why he’d done what he had. He’d wanted to find some closure.

The door behind the deputy opened and his brother stepped in. He gave Cole a once-over, then turned to the big man. “Thanks, Duncan. I owe you.”

“You certainly fucking do. Got better things to do with my evening than spend my time babysitting your asshole of a brother.”

Joel narrowed his gaze. “What did he do?”

“Well, I lost track of the times he threatened to sue me, or speak to my superior,” Duncan mocked.

Joel sighed. “He won’t do either of those things.”

“I wasn’t really worried. I know his type.”

What the fuck did that mean? Cole snarled. “Keep pushing me and you’ll see where it gets you.”

“What do I owe you, Duncan?” Joel asked the other man without taking his gaze from Cole’s.

“I want a table booking for Saturday night and the harem room reserved at the club.”

“Done.” Joel shook the deputy’s hand and he walked out without looking back.

“Fucking asshole had no right to keep me in here,” Cole snapped.

“You’re lucky I didn’t ask him to escort you out of town,” Joel commented.

“What? You run this little town and it’s crappy police force?”

“Not at all,” Joel commented, walking over to where a decanter of bourbon sat, pouring himself a glass and refilling Cole’s. “I just have friends. Do you understand that concept?”

“Don’t be a condescending ass.” He sat across the desk from his brother.

“Have you ever had a friend, Cole?” Joel asked without heat.

Cole didn’t answer. He had. Once. Before his father had taught him the error of his ways. He slammed back the bourbon. “I see your taste in bourbon hasn’t changed.”

“Good, isn’t it? Cost a pretty penny, so you might want to slow down a bit.”

“You’re not hurting for money. Although, I’m shocked you wanted to own a restaurant. Doesn’t seem like your thing.”

“Well, we both know you don’t know me very well, don’t we?” Joel sat behind his desk with a tired sigh.

“Are they all right?” he asked, the question burning a hole in his gut. He leaned forward in his chair. “Because they don’t look all right. What happened to them?”

Joel took a sip of his drink. “No, they’re not all right. And, no, I’m not telling you what happened to them.”

A growl of displeasure filled the room. He reined in his possessive need to find them, protect them.

Not yours. Control. Calm.

“Sit down,” Joel told him in a low voice. “You cannot see them right now. They’re mine to take care of. All your presence would do right now is make things worse.”

“Yours? What happened to that woman you were living with? The one with the two kids?”