Here With Me: A Best Friend's Brother stand-alone romance. Read online

  We park behind the shed, and she grabs her bag, ready to take off without another word. I catch her around the waist and pull her to me before she can escape.

  “Hey.” My voice is rough.

  She studies the front of my shirt, not meeting my gaze. “What?”

  Her nose is pink, and it twists my stomach. I don’t want to make her cry. “You’re still going to the peach ball with me?”

  Her lips press together, and I give her a little shake. “You still my date? You said you would.”

  “I do my best to keep my word.” Her voice is low, and I lean forward to kiss her neck again, right at the base of her jaw.

  “I’ll pick you up at your place, seven o’clock.”

  We bust our asses the last day of harvest, working solid from before sunrise until that hot orange ball is dipping below the horizon. One thing is on our minds—making this the last day we’re out here.

  Leon’s birthday is tomorrow. Tonight is the first day of the festival, and I’ve got to check Noel’s store, a.k.a., the old feed shed, for rats.

  As soon as the last batch of peaches is sorted, I haul the fifty-pound crate to the waiting truck and slap the side signaling we’re done. The teens all cheer, and they’re headed to the donut shop for a celebration.

  I notice my brother looking after them with his hands in his pockets, and I walk over to where he’s standing.

  “You did good.” Holding out my hand, he gives it a shake. “I think it’s time we talked about adding you to the management team.”

  His eyes light. “Is there a team?”

  “No.” I chuckle, and his brow falls. “It’s just Noel and me, and I guess Taron and now you.”

  “I’ve got some ideas for rotating the trees to spread out the planting.” He’s talking fast, and I can feel he’s only twenty-one. “I took a few classes on organic farming. We could section off a part of the field and cater strictly to that market…”

  “Tell you what.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get the festival done, give it a week or two, then we can all sit down and talk about it.”

  He catches his breath and grins. “Thanks, bro.”

  “Now I’ve got to go check on Noel’s store. If Taron asks, tell him he’s welcome to step in any time.”

  I take off on foot up the hill. The small structure originally was just off the road directly in the sun, and with the festival happening in the middle of the Louisiana summer, Noel worried about all her products (and customers) melting. So we planted banana trees and other fast-growing, tropical plants to create shade and break the heat, and installed window units last year.

  As I climb the hill, I’m seeing it for the first time since spring. The vegetation has grown up around it, and it looks like something out of a tropical forest. It’s off the road, and several ferns have sprouted along the front of the small porch. The ground is dark, shadowy, and I feel a panic in my stomach. It would be a perfect place to plant a trip-wire.

  “Why would anyone do that?” I dismiss the ridiculous thought.

  Still, my insides are tight. My entire body is on guard. The clumps of banana trees we planted have grown tall as the roof, and their wide, glossy-green leaves stretch down, casting unusual shadows over the tin roof.

  It’s dark and quiet. The windows are black holes, and anything could be hiding inside. We cut the electricity over the winter and locked the doors, but anyone could easily break in. We wouldn’t know, which is why my sister asked me to do this.

  Actually, Noel is worried about mice. “I’ll lose my shit if I see a mouse,” she said.

  I laughed and said I’d check it out for her.

  Now, the closer I get, the tighter my stomach twists. “We’re used to chasing rats,” Taron said.

  Only, I’m not prepared. I didn’t bring my gun. I didn’t bring anything. I’m approaching a building unarmed, alone, and anything could be inside waiting to attack me.

  A breeze kicks up, and shadows move over the face of the sun. Long tendrils of ivy sweep over the exterior of the shack, and it reminds me too much of that place, that hovel deep in the jungle where it all went down.

  My heart thuds in my chest, and I slow my pace.

  My vision tunnels. Where is Taron? I look all around quickly, dropping back into the trees. He’s supposed to be with me.

  Wait, I remember… He went ahead to test the door. He’s entering first, and I’m covering him from the rear… We’ve practiced this so many times. Patton is in my ear: Just follow the routine; do what we’ve practiced.

  We follow protocol, but we’re not prepared for the ambush. “He’s here!” Taron calls, and I race forward to help him.

  Nausea roils through my stomach, and I don’t make it far. I’m on one knee in the trees, holding on with all my strength. Roaring is in my ears, and all I can think is Taron… I have to get to Taron. He’s in there alone, and she’s there.

  He can’t get Marley out by himself.

  I’m letting everyone down…

  “Here you are.” Strong arms grip my shoulders, but I’m too disoriented to make out his face.

  Summoning all my strength, I lunge into his torso, taking him down with a grunt.

  “What the hell?” He’s temporarily stunned, but he’s as strong as I am.

  We’re locked in a wrestling match, turning on the ground, battling for dominance. I can’t let him win. I can’t let him kill us all. I have to take him out first.

  I’m on top now, and I have him in a headlock. “Stop struggling.”

  “Let me go.” The man orders, but my grip only tightens.

  “How many are you?”

  A scraping rasp comes from his throat, and he grips my arm, jerking down with force. He’s strong; he’s breaking my hold.

  Closing my eyes, I have to hold on. I have to protect our team.

  “Sawyer…” He growls through gritted teeth. “Let go, it’s me.”

  My brow furrows, and I don’t understand. Adrenaline races through my bloodstream. Metallic taste is on my tongue.

  “Sawyer…” Her jerks his elbow back, jamming it in my torso. “It’s Taron. Stop.”

  The blow knocks the wind out of me. My grip slips, and the guy spins out of my grasp. He has me now, his arm across my shoulders. He’s on my back, and he takes me to the ground.

  “Where are you?” He’s breathing hard, and his voice is right in my ear.

  I’m on my stomach breathing hard, and my vision starts to clear.

  “Talk to me. Where are you?”

  Fuck. Shame and fear are an electric blend in my stomach. “I’m home.” Gasping for air, I hold his arm. “Let me go, Taron, I’m at the shed. I’m at Noel’s store.”

  He releases me at once, dropping onto his ass and leaning back against the tree. “Shit.”

  I roll onto my back, doing my best to calm my breathing. My hands are on my chest, and I look up at the deep green leaves overhead. Above them, gray clouds are rolling across the sun. It’s going to rain today.

  My insides ache, and I roll to my side, getting on my hands and knees so I can rise to my feet. It takes a minute for me to calm the tremors. Remnants of adrenaline are still in my blood, and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.

  I look over at my friend, whose knees are bent. He’s resting his elbow on one knee, scrubbing his eyes with his hand.

  “Are you okay?” I stagger to my feet and walk over, putting a hand on the tree trunk above his head.

  I reach down, and he grabs my arm, allowing me to haul him to his feet. When I try to pull away, his grip on my arm tightens.

  “How often is it happening?” Taron’s wolf eyes slice into mine.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I try to pull my arm back, but he holds me stronger.

  “Cut the bullshit. You nearly took my head off.”

  “You startled me.” It’s the same excuse I used in the nursing home. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

  “It was more than that.” H
is jaw is clenched. “You were back there.”

  “Let go of my arm.” My brow lowers, and we both know I’m stronger than he is since the injury. Hell, I probably always was, thanks to fifty-pound bushels of peaches.

  His grip on me relaxes, and I jerk my arm away, stalking to the peach shed. My boots thud on the wooden porch, and I jam the key in the doorknob, unlocking it. The electricity still isn’t on, but I have a small flashlight in my back pocket. I pull it out and shine it along the baseboards.

  No signs of animal droppings or other critter activity. Taron’s boots thud on the floor behind me, shuffling to a stop inside the door.

  “Place looks clean to me.” I turn off the flashlight, ready to go. “I’ll flip the main breaker and switch on the window unit. Tell Noel she can start stocking tonight.”

  “What happens when it’s Noel?” His voice is flat. “What happens when it’s Dove?”

  My head snaps around to face him. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Do you still keep a pistol in your bedroom?”

  “I said, that’s not going to happen.” My jaw is clenched, and I step forward.

  He doesn’t back down. “You’re not the first person to tell me that. Marley told me that just before we found him in his apartment.”

  “I’m not Marley.” It’s not the same at all.

  He was kidnapped, beaten, tortured… I don’t take drugs. I never have.

  I’ve just started having these moments.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” He follows me out onto the porch, around back to the breaker box. “How often is it happening?”

  “Why do you care so much?” I stop at the metal box and flip the door open.

  A large lever is inside, and I push it up. A whirring noise lets us know the electricity is on to the small store. Turning, I return to the porch, headed to the door with Taron on my heels.

  “I’m trained to defend myself against a physical attack. Other people we both know and love are not.” I open the door, and he catches it, stopping me. His voice is lower, gentler now. “It’s my duty, to be sure you’re not a threat to yourself or to them.”

  I look him square in the eyes. “I’m not a threat to anybody.”

  His expression crumbles. “You don’t know what you might do.”

  “You’re wrong.” I flip on the window unit and head for the door. “I would never hurt Dove. Or Noel. Or anyone.”

  I’m out the door headed to the house with my stomach churning. This has only happened twice, and both times it was in a dark place and a man sneaked up behind me. Two common variables, both of which can be controlled.

  Taron is wrong. I’m not weak.

  I will figure this out, and I will control it.

  It’s going to be okay.

  19

  Mindy

  “And a-one and a-two and a-one, two, three, four…” Bouncy piano music blasts through the civic center speakers, and Madelyn Gamble stands in front of a group of twelve female octogenarians, clapping her hands and leading them through the opening dance.

  “How’s it looking?” Mrs. Irene is at my side, holding my arm.

  “Tense.” I watch as Ms. Turner and Ms. Wilson break the line doing their best to stay on opposite sides of the stage from each other, even though they’re the freedom and the reign parts of the production.

  “Ms. Debbie, you need to pass across the center of the stage. You’re the light of freedom.” Maddie waves her arms and infuses her voice with optimism.

  “I’m not standing by her.” Ms. Turner casts a withering glare at Ms. Wilson.

  Ms. Wilson holds an oversized American flag on a pole. “As if I want to stand by a hussy like you, Debbie Turner!”

  “Oh, this is good.” Mrs. Irene puts her hand over her mouth to hide her chuckling. “Maddie Gamble should get a medal of freedom if she manages to pull this off.”

  “I’m just glad it’s not me.” I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. “She only has two more days.”

  The inaugural Ms. Silver Peach pageant will be the closing event of this year’s festival on Sunday afternoon.

  “And to think they used to be best friends.”

  That pulls me up short. “You’re kidding!”

  “Well, not so much best friends as best rivals. If Olivia dated the captain of the basketball team, Debbie had to date the quarterback of the football team.” She leans closer. “You’ve heard the expression ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’?”

  “Is that friendship?”

  “Not any I’d like to have. Not like you and Noel.”

  The mention of my bestie makes me jump. “Oh, I’ve got to run. I promised Noel I’d pick up her stock for Ma’s table this afternoon.”

  “You’re a true friend.” We walk arm in arm toward the back of the room. “Did you talk to Sawyer?”

  “I did.” My chest has been heavy ever since our afternoon at the pond.

  “How did it go?”

  “We’re still going to the Peach Ball together.”

  “That’s good.” Her eyebrows rise with her smile. “Did he tell you what’s been troubling him?”

  “No, and he said he wouldn’t.”

  Her lips tighten, and her blue eyes cast down. She basically says with her expression everything I’m feeling. It sucks, and it’s no basis for a relationship. Still, I was strong. I said what I needed to say, but I also reminded him what he had last weekend. I used my sexuality as a weapon, and I don’t care. He’s got a much stronger advantage, if you ask me.

  We take a few more steps, and her hand tightens in the crook of my arm. “The Peach Ball is a magical time. Who knows what might happen when you’re there together, dancing in each other’s arms. Your aura is bright red, which means your attraction is strong. Use it.”

  I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. “I love you. You’re catching a ride with Ramona and Miss Jessica?”

  She nods. “I’ll see you tonight at bedtime.”

  With that, I leave my old friend at the civic center. It’s a short drive to Noel’s shop. She’s inside moving fast with her little mini-me Dove marching around and carrying boxes of face cream, soap, body lotion, lip gloss, wherever her mother tells her to go.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here. I thought you’d forgotten.” Noel meets me with a hug at the door. “I’ve got everything for your mom’s table in the box behind the register.”

  “Why all the panic stations?” I look around the bright peach room with the white wainscoting.

  “Sawyer didn’t get out here to check the place until last night.” She’s placing bottles of lotion on a shelf and turning them so they all face front. “Then he was weird and didn’t even tell me he’d done it. Taron told me this morning.”

  “What was he checking it for?”

  “Oh, you know… I couldn’t take a chance there’d be rats.” She does a full body shiver.

  Dove watches her with wide eyes then blinks to me. “Mamma doesn’t want to meet Angelina Ballerina in person.”

  “Nobody does.” I step forward, taking two handfuls of all-natural peach-infused soap out of the box in Dove’s arms. “I can help. Where do these go?”

  “Anywhere there’s an open shelf!” Noel’s moving fast, unloading and arranging stock on shelves. “Don’t you have to be at the senior center?”

  “Maddie Gamble volunteered to direct the pageant. When I left she was doing just fine.” I carry the soaps to an empty shelf. “I have a few minutes. Do you have an arrangement in mind?”

  “Just loading the empty shelves. I’ll add the signs tomorrow.” She grabs a box of white tubes. “Maddie’s such a sweet girl. I remember when Dove was in her mini ballerina class.”

  “She’s got the patience of a saint.” I grab a box of lip scrub and arrange the small pots in a pyramid formation with a glass bud vase beside them. “I can’t even imagine trying to wrangle a room full of four-year olds.”

  “Whatever, Mindy Ray,
you’ll be a wonderful mother. Just wait.” Noel turns her back, climbing on the step ladder. “These foot creams never sell well. I’ll put them up here.”

  “Maybe that’s why they don’t sell? Because they’re hidden way up there?” I squint up at her.

  “No, I’ve tried everywhere. It’s better to have them out of the way and let the people who know ask.”

  She continues around the room, and I want to ask more about her brother, but I’m not sure she’s had time to notice. Sawyer being unusually quiet isn’t exactly a new thing.

  I wonder if he ever tells her his feelings. I know the two of them have a special relationship. I also know she has no idea about our relationship—and Sawyer wants it that way… which kind of hurts. We’re way past the days when our age difference were a potential problem. Now I can’t help feeling if he were proud of me, he’d want to tell everyone.

  Mrs. Irene’s right. A month ago, I was able to live this hidden existence. Now, after everything that’s happened in the last month, I can’t be Sawyer’s little secret anymore. If he even thinks of me that way. Hell, I could be romanticizing the whole thing.

  “What’s wrong?” Noel is right in front of me, and I step back.

  “Sorry… Did I say something?” Lord Jesus, tell me I wasn’t thinking out loud just now.

  “You have a look like something’s bothering you.” Her eyes narrow. “What is it?”

  Blinking fast, I consider the disadvantage of having a lifelong friend—it’s practically impossible to keep secrets from her. She knows me too well. “Ahh… I was looking at these little bud vases and thinking about time… Want me to bring you some flowers for them?”

  “You would be a life saver!” She grabs more stock out of the box in front of me and crosses the room. “I’ll be your best buddy.”

  “You already are,” I laugh softly, feeling mildly relieved. “You know, Ms. Turner and Ms. Wilson are at each other’s throats at the civic center. Mrs. Irene said they used to be best friends. Can you imagine?”

  “I can’t imagine eighty-year-old women parading around in bathing suits.”