One Last Shot (Cupid's Conquests) Page 4

  Her fist met his nose with a satisfying crunch.

  “You bitch!” He cupped his nose, blood poured down his chin, dripping on his white button-up.

  “Fuck you, Billy.”

  Shelby stormed out, passing several slack-jawed customers as she went. The Mustang’s engine gave a satisfying rumble as she turned it over then revved the gas for good measure. Her tires squealed as she pulled onto Main Street and hauled ass to Shooters. Minutes later she tore into the bar’s parking lot, still shaking with anger. The delivery truck was waiting for her and John had propped open the door to start unloading. She took several deep breaths, cracked her neck, and forced herself out of the car.

  “Morning, boys,” she called as casually as should could pull off.

  “I thought you could use this after last night.” John handed her a steaming cup of Starbucks.

  “God bless you.” She kissed his cheek and wrapped her hand around the cup, but John didn’t let go.

  “What happened to your hand?”

  Shelby pulled it back; the knuckles were bright red and starting to swell. She caressed her fingers, wincing as darts of pain shot through her hand and wrist. “I…uh…sort of hit Billy Tanner.”

  “No shit!” John’s laughter echoed between the buildings as the delivery driver shifted beside them.

  “Give me that.” She glanced over the delivery ledger and scrawled her name at the bottom. “Drop it inside the door on the left. We’ll sort it from there.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The driver gave her a copy of the ledger and rolled his loaded dolly inside.

  “Did you give him a shiner?” John said, still chuckling.

  “Nah.”

  “Damn.”

  “I broke his nose.”

  That sent John into a fresh whoop of laughter. “Not that he didn’t deserve it, but what’d he do this time?”

  “Denied my loan at the bank.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry, Shel. I guess they won’t be too eager to work with you down there after that.”

  “I guess not.” A bit of remorse crept up inside, but she’d find another way. “Can I have my coffee now?”

  “You’ve damn well earned it,” he said, handing it over.

  “Hey, John, your cousin sells real estate, right?”

  “Yeah. He was top agent last month.”

  “Tell him to call me.”

  He held her stare for a full minute like he was gauging how serious she was, but he finally nodded and pulled out his cell phone.

  #

  Justin pulled in the parking lot, relieved to see the white Mustang parked in back. The bar wouldn’t be open for another hour and he hoped to get at least a few minutes alone with Shelby. His phone buzzed as he headed for the backdoor. One glance at the caller ID and he hit ignore, sending Sean’s call to voicemail for the third time this morning. He stepped through the backdoor as John walked out of the storeroom. The linebacker-sized bouncer blocked the hallway and glared down at him. They’d shared a few classes back in high school, had even gotten drunk together a time or two, but there was no love in John’s face. Unlike most people in town, he and the rest of the staff at Shooters weren’t so thrilled about his homecoming.

  “Hey, John. Is Shelby around?”

  “She’s in a meeting.”

  “I just need a minute.” The pit yawning in his stomach couldn’t wait until closing time for answers. “Please, man.” Something must have shown in his eyes because John relaxed his stance and stepped out of the way. John wrapped his thick fingers around Justin’s arm before he could pass.

  “She’s had a shitty day already. You make it worse, you’re out on your ass.” His level stare said it wasn’t an idle threat.

  Justin agreed, slipped passed the bouncer, and followed the sound of voices to the front of the bar where Shelby sat at a corner table, papers spread between her and a guy he didn’t recognize.

  “So you’ll have the listing posted today?” she asked.

  “As soon as I get back to the office,” the man said then lifted his eyes and recognition dawned across his face. “Holy shit! I heard you were back in town.” The man stood and held out his hand to Justin. “I’m Tim Harris. It’s great to meet you, man. I’m a big fan.”

  “Thanks, Tim. Nice to meet you, too. I hate to interrupt, but do you think I could have a minute with Shelby?” He saw her shift from the corner of his eye, but he had to get rid of this guy first.

  “Sure thing. We were just wrapping up.”

  “Don’t you need anything else from me?” she asked.

  “No, no, we’re good. I just need your key. I’ll make a copy and drop it back off to you before closing.”

  Shelby slid a key across the table. Tim snatched it, shook Justin’s hand again and was gone. The papers, the key, the slick dressed man all started to click in Justin’s mind. He was about to ask Shelby what she was doing when she pushed away from the booth, walked to the nearest table and started pulling the chairs down, setting up for the lunch crowd. His chest clenched at the tension in her shoulders, bringing back the real reason he was here to see her. Still reeling from their amazing night and his discovery, the last reaction he expected from her was this. A hello or, hell, even a hug would have been a little more appropriate. But this?

  “Good morning, Shel.”

  “Look, Jay, I’ve got a lot going on right now. Can we do this later?” She jerked the last chair down and moved to the next table.

  “Do what later?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever chat you were planning to have.”

  A chat? Is that all he was worth after a night like that? “You don’t think I deserve at least a good morning after last night?”

  “I figured nights like that were routine for such a big star.” She slammed a chair on the floor and grabbed another.

  “No night with you was ever routine. They were always more to me. You were always more to me, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You obviously never felt the same, which is why you walked away.”

  Her shoulders tensed like she’d taken an actual blow then she moved on. “Is this the poor little sports star story? Because I’ve got bigger things to deal with than your ego right now.”

  His muscles twitched, wanting so badly to grab her, spin her around, force her to look him in the eye and tell him the truth. She’d always been good at using her anger to deflect things, but he wasn’t going to let her push him away so easily again. “You’re the one who left, Shelby. No explanations, no returned calls. It wasn’t my ego you bruised back then.”

  Her back stiffened, hands frozen on the chair. He slid up behind her, trapping her against the table. “You could at least explain this,” he breathed against her ear, dropping the baseball ticket on the table.

  Her breath caught, fingers trailing across the worn edge of the ticket. She turned her face to his, their lips a heartbeat away from each other. His body reacted to her, to the tang of her perfume, and the emotion in her eyes. It was all he could do not to throw her down on the table and let his stiffening erection have its way.

  She swallowed then opened her mouth. “I—”

  “Shelby Stephens,” a man called from the doorway.

  They spun and found two police officers followed closely by John who looked pissed enough to rip both of their heads off.

  “Can I help you?” Shelby asked, voice steadier than Justin’s heart rate. Heavy shadows hung beneath her eyes and, despite the slight flush to her cheeks, her skin was pale and taut.

  “Assault charges have been filed, Shelby. We need to take you down to the station,” Seth, the taller officer said.

  “Fucking pussy,” Shelby said under her breath.

  “What’s going on here, Seth?” Justin asked, stepping between Shelby and the approaching officers.

  “You might want to ask your brother,” Seth said.

  Justin glanced at Shelby who looked unfazed by the charges. “What happened?” he asked.

  “Let’s j
ust say you can pull off a broken nose a lot better than he can.”

  John stifled his laughter with a not-so-subtle coughing fit. Justin cocked an eyebrow, but Shelby just shrugged.

  “You’ll have to come with us, Shelby,” Seth said.

  “I don’t have time for this bullshit, Seth.” Shelby returned to pulling chairs down from the tables.

  “We have witnesses.”

  “I’m sure you do. We were standing in the lobby of the damn bank.”

  John snorted, but Shelby ignored him and slammed another chair on the ground.

  “Don’t make me arrest you,” Seth said, resting his hand on the cuffs hanging from his belt.

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  Justin knew that look in her eye; she meant what she said, and from Seth’s face, he knew it, too. The other cop glanced from Seth to Shelby, not sure what to do.

  “Here’s the deal, Seth,” she said, moving to the last table. “I’ve got a shitload of work to do so I’m not going to let you arrest me today. But I’d be happy to come down to the station tomorrow and file a complaint against Mr. Tanner for sexual harassment, which makes his nose job self-defense. And you can tell Bleeder Billy I’ll be filing that with his corporate office as well.”

  “Did he touch you?” Justin stepped closer, fists clenching. Brotherhood be damned. If Billy even tried to lay a finger on Shelby, he’d break a hell of a lot more than his nose.

  Shelby met his eye and shook her head then turned back to Seth. “He looked down my shirt, commented on my tits, and called me a whore.”

  Justin mumbled, “Fucking asshole,” but from the smirk on Shelby’s face, she must have heard him.

  “You can’t arrest her if she was defending herself,” John said from the back.

  “I still need you to come in and give a statement.”

  “Look, Seth…” Justin put a hand on his shoulder and walked him over to the bar, giving them the illusion of privacy. “Let me talk to my brother. You know damn well how much they hate each other. This is a pride thing. It doesn’t have to be a legal thing. I’ll get him to drop the charges. And Shelby won’t bother with charges if this is dropped. She already humiliated him.”

  “And if he doesn’t drop it?”

  “Then I’ll personally drive Shelby to the station to give a statement.”

  Seth rubbed a hand across his chin and nodded. “Yeah, all right, but if he doesn’t call the station to drop the charges by the time my shift starts tomorrow, I’ll be right back down here to haul her in.”

  “Fair enough, but if it comes to that, you better bring something bigger than that to help you.” Justin nodded to Seth’s scrawny partner.

  “No shit. I’ll bring my Taser and riot gear.” It would have been funny if the look in Seth’s eye wasn’t dead serious. Shelby had earned her reputation a long time ago and there were few men in this town who would cross her.

  Seth shook Justin’s hand then nodded to his partner who followed him out of the bar. Shelby took down the last chair then grabbed a tray of salt and pepper shakers. She wove in and out of the tables, delivering a pair to each then moving on. Justin’s eyes followed her as she leaned in to the center of each table. His palm tingled remembering the feel of her curves beneath his hands the night before. Lust warmed his skin chased by a shot of anger at the thought of his brother disrespecting her. Shelby was quick with her fists, but rarely without cause. The strain in her neck and stiffness in her shoulders had to be more than her regretting the night before. Whatever it was, he’d find out. After he talked to Billy.

  #

  Justin pulled into Billy’s driveway. His brother’s black Mercedes shone like obsidian in the afternoon sun. His long strides took the steps two at a time and he let himself in without knocking. Billy sat on a leather couch, collar unbuttoned, blossoms of red dotting his shirt, an ice pack resting on his face.

  “Sandy, get me a gin and tonic and get Seth Martin on the phone. I want to know...” His voice trailed off when he glanced to the side and saw Justin standing at the end of the sofa instead of his girlfriend.

  “What happened to your face?” Justin asked.

  “That bitch Shelby Stephens, that’s what.”

  “You wanna try that again?” Justin stepped closer, fingers twitching at his sides.

  “She broke my fucking nose. What do you want me to call her? A fairy fucking princess?”

  “Yeah, well it looks like that bitch kicked your ass. What the fuck happened?”

  “I’m the one with a busted face. Why don’t you ask her what happened?” Billy crossed the room to a bar in the corner and poured a gin and tonic and a whisky. Justin took in the damage—bands of purple stretched beneath each of his brother’s eyes, fading into the swollen mess of his nose.

  “She walked into the bank, hit you, and walked back out, for no other reason than to watch you bleed all over your three hundred dollar shirt?”

  “Jesus, Justin, are you still hung up on her?” Billy held the whisky out to Justin who made no attempt to reach for it. “Suit yourself,” he said, setting the high ball on the granite coffee table then dropping back onto the sofa. “It’s been, what? Eight, ten years? Move on.”

  “This isn’t about me.”

  “No? Then why are you here? After everything we did to protect you from her, the first thing you do when you get injured is come running back home to her. What a fuckin’ waste,” Billy mumbled then choked on his drink, coughing as he tried to swallow past a swollen nose. He wiped the fresh trail of blood creeping toward his upper lip.

  “Protect me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The fire in his veins was momentarily tempered by curiosity.

  “You really don’t know?”

  Justin crossed his arms and gave a slow shake of his head.

  “You were talking about switching schools, staying local when you had a full ride to USC, just so you could stay closer to her. I know she was your first and all, but Dad wasn’t about to let you throw away your career for a piece of ass.”

  “What did he do?” Justin already knew the answer. The sick truth of it coiled in his gut, but he needed to hear it out loud.

  “Dad paid her to stay away from you. Told her he’d pay for any school in the country if she left you the hell alone. She could never afford a real education on her own. He was pissed as fuck when she went to L.A., I’ll tell you that. But from all your bellyaching and moping that first year, he knew she hadn’t gone back on her word.”

  Justin had spent a decade wondering what he’d done wrong, why she’d changed her mind, but of all the possible scenarios, he’d never imagined his own family would stoop to this level.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Better to have you mad at her than them I guess.” Billy grabbed the icepack, settling it against his face with a wince. He stretched for his tumbler, but Justin snatched it off the coffee table and flung it across the room. Shards exploded against the wall and skittered across the tile floor.

  “Goddamn it, Billy! You’re my brother! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me!” Justin glared, waiting for any excuse to leap across the table and finish what Shelby had started.

  Billy held his gaze for a moment, but finally leaned forward and dropped the ice pack. He shrugged off his arrogance and looked his brother in the eye with openness and honesty for probably the first time in their lives. “I was in college already. I didn’t have time for your high school crush and Dad thought he was doing the right thing. I thought they were wasting a fuck-load of my inheritance on a barkeep’s daughter, but nobody gave a shit about my opinion. I figured the second you got to college and had girls throwing themselves at you, you’d forget this town even existed. I went back to school in the fall and didn’t give it another thought.”

  “And that’s why you were an asshole today?”

  Billy walked to the bar and poured another drink, Justin following behind him. “I did her a favor. The last thing this town needs is anothe
r bar to keep its doors open. She needs to take that hundred and fifty thousand dollar business degree my inheritance paid for, and do something worthwhile.” Billy turned, surprised by how close Justin was. “And yet I’m the asshole for turning down her loan.”

  “No. You’re just an asshole.” Justin swung, burying his fist in his brother’s gut. Billy doubled-over, his drink dropped to the floor with him following right after, knees buckling, gasping for air.

  Justin stalked to his truck, only half-satisfied. There were a hell of a lot more answers left to find.

  Chapter Five

  A toxic fog of the day’s events swirled through Shelby’s head. The Mustang rumbled down the deserted streets on little more than autopilot. Eyes fixed straight ahead, she willfully ignored the garish sale sign in her front yard as she pulled into the driveway. She didn’t regret her decision to sell, she rarely regretted anything, but she didn’t have the strength to think about the sale tonight. Without so much as turning on a light, she dropped onto the couch and into a restless sleep.

  The next morning, she stared across the expanse of lawn, building up her nerve. It had been a year and a half since she’d set foot on this ground. Her chest ached just knowing what lay out there, fifty yards from her bumper. “Chicken shit,” she muttered and forced herself out of the Mustang and across the cemetery lawn, a bottle of Jack Daniels in hand.

  Her throat constricted as she stared down at the two graves. Her father’s dated eighteen months ago; her mother’s nearly sixteen years. She dropped to her knees between them, jerked the top off the whisky and took a long draw.

  “Bottled courage, right, Dad?” Her eyes traced the letters on his marker until they were nothing but a meaningless jumble of lines and curves, all that was left of the man who’d dedicated his entire life to her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come back.” She’d offered more than once, but he’d assured her everything was under control, like he always had. And she’d believed him. Eight years on her own and four states away, but she’d still needed to be the little girl who believed her dad was invincible. If he said it would work out, it would. Just like it had every other time he’d promised her. Something deep inside her had known the truth, that he was sicker than he admitted, but another part of her said to let him keep his pride. If it helped him to carry this last burden and keep it from her, she was all too willing to let him have it. She knew it was wrong, but the push and pull inside each of them always came to a stalemate of him running the bar in Texas and her running the world in California. In the end, all it bought them was an illusion of comfort and a mountain of debts.