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  “Jessica?” he asked, his hands on my shoulders. “Jessica James?”

  “Yes. Yes, it’s me.” I swallowed my last word, my knees feeling weak as adrenaline left my body. I was so relieved. Despite our lengthy history of mutual dislike and his trickery earlier in the evening, my chest flooded with warmth at the sight of him. I couldn’t ever remember being so happy to see the outline of another person in my whole life.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

  Overcome, I lunged forward and threw my arms around him, burying my face in his neck. I knew I was behaving like a lunatic, but I’d spent the whole night thinking about him. I needed him to hold me; even if he didn’t like me, I needed him.

  He shushed me, his arms coming around my body, his hand petting my hair. “It’s all right, Jessica. I got you now.”

  I had no idea how much time passed as we stood holding each other. I know I snuggled shamelessly closer, eliciting a short, velvety chuckle from him.

  And then, just as I was beginning to relax and decide what to do next, he surprised me by saying, “Jessica, I’m not Duane, honey. I’m Beau.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, but before I could react, before I distinguished whether what I felt was joy or disappointment, the screams started.

  Chapter 3

  “Let love find you. Don’t go looking for it. The best way to attract a mate is to post an ad on Craigslist titled, “Have lube, will travel.”

  Jarod Kintz, Love quotes for the ages. Specifically ages 18-81.

  ~Duane~

  I knew the exact moment I fell for Jessica James. I remember it clear as day.

  Even though I hadn’t set eyes on her for years, time and distance hadn’t dulled the memory. The constancy of my regard for Jessica just made her presence now in Green Valley feel transitory, like she was slipping through my fingers.

  I was sixteen. She was fourteen. I’d shoved her off a dock into the river. Instead of screaming or freaking out, she’d grabbed my leg on her way down and pulled me under too, dragging me out to the middle.

  I was in swim shorts, and she was in her Sunday school dress. While we were struggling under the water, she’d pulled my shorts down and off, then escaped. Seeing as how she’d been on the swim team since elementary school, she was the better swimmer, even in a Sunday school dress.

  Jessica had climbed onto the bank. Her blonde hair had been wet, tangled around her face, down her back. Her white dress had clung to her body making every young curve visible, and she’d taken off. She’d always been real pretty, but so had lots of other girls. Spitting mad, I ran after her, not caring one lick that I was naked.

  I’d caught her easily enough—I was the better runner, faster—and tackled her to the ground. I’d pinned her hands above her head and searched them. They were empty.

  “Where are my shorts?” I’d demanded, furious.

  Her body had shook beneath mine; she was laughing. She was laughing so hard she could hardly breathe, and I remember thinking she was beautiful.

  Then she’d said, “I threw them in a tree.”

  I’d watched her, again losing her breath to laughter, and I couldn’t stop my smile. “You threw them in a tree?” I asked, feeling a touch of wonder at her cleverness.

  “Yeah,” she’d said, her smile wide and crooked, “you think being mean is enough. Being mean and being smart is better.”

  That was the moment. That was when it happened.

  Though I grew up seeing her nearly every day, I hadn’t noticed she was a girl—or the existence of any other girl—until I was nearly thirteen. By then it was too late. She disliked me. But she worshipped my brother. He didn’t see her, not really. Not like I did.

  Sure, we’d argued since childhood. But that’s what kids do when they’re in a pack of wild children. I’d always liked her, maybe had a crush on her, but I fell hard the day she threw my swim trunks into a tree.

  Presently, I was sitting two hundred feet from Bandit Lake, staring at the bonfire Beau and I had built hours before and feeling downright sorry for myself. I stood, shaking my head, and pushed the memory aside. I glanced at my cup. It was empty.

  Usually I’d take the Road Runner out to clear my head; if I wasn’t going fast then I wasn’t really driving, and that car was built for speed. But I wasn’t going to chance mountain roads when I was two bourbon shots shy of drunk.

  I was refilling my cup when Cletus suddenly appeared at the edge of the bonfire and gave me a fright. He was a floating head, his body invisible. I was the first to see him, and he scared the breath outta me. I inhaled sharply and jumped about three feet. He also made me spill the bourbon.

  “Dammit, Cletus!” I closed my eyes, concentrated on slowing my pulse.

  Then one of the girls screamed. Then another. Soon they were all screaming. I sighed because they were irritating.

  Cattle, I thought. It was an uncharitable thought. My mother would have been disappointed. I felt a little pull under my lowermost left rib. Her death was still fresh, I couldn’t think about it without hurting someplace, and it seemed like I was always thinking about it.

  I opened my eyes, grinding my teeth, and set about the task of pacifying the screamers. “It’s Cletus, my brother. Tina, listen to me, Tina—it’s just Cletus.”

  Tina’s screams continued until I covered her mouth with my hand; her brown eyes were wide and worried as she glanced from me to my older brother. When I was sure she wasn’t going to scream again, I took my palm away.

  “Cletus?” she parroted, frowning. Her face was framed by a black and yellow wig; her cleavage was spilling out of the sexy bee costume she wore as she gathered gulping breaths.

  “Yeah. It’s Cletus. Just Cletus.” I glanced at him. He wasn’t helping the situation by hovering just beyond the glow of the fire, his eyes eerily wide. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. He must’ve been wearing a black turtleneck because he really did look like a floating head.

  The other guys had also stood, but were now shaking off the brief fright and moving forward to welcome my brother.

  In all, there were about twenty-five people gathered, almost an equal amount of guys and girls. The bonfire had been Beau’s idea, and he’d promised to keep the party small. Twenty-five felt like a crowd. The mood I was in, I would have preferred five or six…or one.

  Tina wrapped her arms around me, giggling into my chest. She was two vodka shots past drunk, and she was pissing me off. “Duane, baby. Hold me, I’m scared.”

  I placed my arm around her shoulders, mostly to keep her from falling into the flames and ruining everyone’s good time, and walked her over to a blanket. My plan to remove her from my side proved difficult, because she seemed to have grown two more arms. Each time I removed one, another three took its place. Too late, I realized this was because she was climbing me with her legs.

  Tina and I had been seeing each other on and off for going on five years. I’d called it quits once and for all four months ago. This was the first time I’d seen her since.

  “Come on, Tina.” I pushed her away, cursing my brother for inviting her in the first place.

  Looking back, five years with Tina was four years and eleven months too long. She’d never been my girl, but she liked to tell people she was. Sure, she was pretty enough, beautiful even. She had a free-spirited wildness that had been fun for about ten minutes. She also had the body of an exotic dancer—because she was one—and never lacked enthusiasm when we fucked.

  But that’s all it had ever been—fucking.

  And five years of fucking around was more than enough.

  Tina was shrewd but willfully ignorant. I couldn’t talk to her about anything, because she didn’t want to know anything. I once bought her a copy of my favorite book and found out later she’d used it as kindling for a fire.

  Hell, I’d been ready to shoot that horse four years ago. But she’d become a bad habit. She was easy and soft and persistent. And that had be
en enough to keep me from turning her away.

  Until last July.

  Until I found out from Jackson James that his sister was moving back to town.

  With a firm grip I finally succeeded in removing Tina’s nails, setting her on the blanket and away from me.

  “Stay there,” I ordered, then walked around the circle of flames to greet my brother, throwing my paper cup in the fire. Tina climbing on me was incentive enough to sober up. I heard her call my name, but ignored it. Two shots shy of drunk was where I wanted to stop, especially since I was still frustrated from earlier events.

  “It’s me, your brother Cletus,” he said unnecessarily—as he was prone to do—dropping a canvas bag to the ground at his feet.

  I felt my lips tug to the side. He was wearing a black turtleneck and black pants.

  “Hey, are you sticking around?”

  “Nah, just dropping off the supplies Beau wanted.”

  I studied him. He looked cold. “You want to warm up next to the fire before you go?

  “Sure. Maybe for a bit.”

  “Where’s your jacket?”

  “I gave my jacket to a lady in need, she’ll be along shortly.”

  I didn’t get a chance to question him further because he lifted his chin to the crowd. “Who are these people?”

  “Mostly Beau’s friends.” I scanned several unfamiliar faces. “You know how he is, he has more friends than a tree has leaves. Some are from Merryville, a few came over from the Cades Cove side.”

  I knew the moment his eyes found Tina because they turned mean. “What’s she doing here? You back with her?”

  “No,” I said, feeling revulsion at the thought. “No way.”

  He nodded, frowning in an atypical display of dislike. “Good, ’cause she’s crazier than a road lizard.”

  I didn’t even have three seconds to register or feel surprise at Cletus’s words before Beau reappeared at the edge of the bonfire, drawing everyone’s attention to him and the girl he had tucked under his arm.

  If Cletus’s statement had surprised me, then the sight of Jessica James pressed against my twin nearly knocked me flat on my ass.

  Time slowed. I couldn’t breathe. My vision turned red. My throat and chest burned. I wanted to punch something…or someone.

  “What the fuck…?” My thoughts escaped on a breath, and a deep, piercing pain twisted in my gut. Thankfully, only Cletus had heard my curse.

  “Oh, yeah. Catastrophic Engine Failure.” Cletus lifted his chin toward Jessica as though Catastrophic Engine Failure was her name. “I’m taking Miss James home.”

  I turned my glare to Cletus and snapped, “What do you mean you’re taking her home?”

  His stare narrowed, and he openly studied me. I hated it when he did this. When Cletus put his mind to something, he could see everything. I averted my eyes but then instantly regretted it, because Jessica was looking straight at me. Images of her bare tits, her hot looks, bringing my hand to her flimsy panties played through my mind’s eye.

  I swallowed so I wouldn’t groan, thankful I’d changed into jeans because, fucking hell, I was abruptly hard. Again my gut twisted, again I couldn’t breathe. I fought to distance myself from her gaze, but she reeled me in. Her mouth, her eyes, her body—my bait. Jessica was so much more than beautiful, and with Jessica I’d always wanted so much more than fucking around.

  I hadn’t wanted things to escalate backstage at the community center; that wasn’t my intent or my goal. It was a kiss I was after, just a single kiss. I’d wanted her mouth on mine, I wanted that memory to replace the mourning and melancholy. Watching my momma’s slow decline over the last weeks and months, I’d been so sad for so long and the ferocity of wanting Jessica had made me a little crazy tonight.

  When she’d thought I was Beau, her big brown eyes had been trusting, adoring. She’d never looked at me like that before. It was addictive. I wanted her to do it again. But my terrible prospects were dwindling. I’d been practicing my speech for months, waiting for the right time, but now I’d blown my careful planning on one kiss. And yet, part of me thought it had been worth it.

  Her skin had been soft, like a petal or silk. The memory of touching, tasting, and holding Jessica—and having her return the force of my attentions—was still fresh. As was the suffocating misery of her rejection and my destructive foolishness.

  I didn’t blame her for hating me, not at all. And now I reckoned it would be the only time she’d let anything akin to affection between us. Taking her backstage had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, temporary insanity, and—in retrospect—a shitty, selfish one too.

  You tricked her. . . I swallowed around a sourness, the acrid flavor of guilt and remorse. Damnit.

  I needed to get my head on straight. I needed to apologize, I would apologize. My mother had raised us better than disrespecting women. I hadn’t been myself since her death just a few weeks ago. But losing the heart and soul of our family was no excuse for mistreating anyone.

  And Jessica didn’t need to worry, I’d never do anything like that again. Spur of the moment was well beyond my typical comfort zone. I liked to know what to expect. I liked the certainty that came with a well-laid plan.

  Presently, I balled my hands into fists and forced my mind to blank. Even so, my eyes were drawn to her lips. They’d always been a little slanted, higher on one side than the other. This imperfection only added to her appeal. It made her look like she was thinking about a private joke, like she was ready to laugh.

  My eyes lowered to her neck before I forced myself to stop. If I moved them any lower I would be thinking about her naked again. So I brought my eyes back to hers.

  She wasn’t looking at me with trust now. I couldn’t read her expression, but it appeared to be founded in unkind thoughts.

  I wiped my own expression clean. I was caught in her web. Worse, she didn’t even know she’d caught me. And even if she had known, she couldn't care less.

  “Everyone, most of you already know her, but in case you don’t, this is Jessica James,” Beau announced with his usual charm. He glanced down at her, and she removed her eyes from mine to look at my brother. He smiled. She returned it, but hers looked shy. I had the distinct sensation I’d swallowed rocks.

  “Jessica, this is everyone.”

  People waved. A few stood up to greet her, including Tina. Vaguely I remembered they were somehow related, cousins maybe.

  But I could only stare. I felt like I’d been planted, roots had grown out of my feet. I couldn’t look away. She was wearing a man’s jacket—I suspected Cletus’s by the look of it—but her long, toned legs were still bare to her thighs, and she had no shoes.

  “I think we’ll stay for a while,” Cletus announced.

  “Fine,” I said, realizing too late it sounded like a growl.

  “Good.”

  “Okay then.”

  “Excellent,” he said, rubbing his hands together. He had the outward appearance of calm. Bored even. But I knew my brother well enough to know his tells. Rubbing his hands together meant he was near giddy. My suspicions were confirmed when he added, “In fact, we should all play a game.”

  I scowled at him, still wanting to punch something, and he was closest.

  “Hey, Beau.” Cletus ignored me, stepping forward. “Duane wants to play Truth or Dare.”

  I set my jaw, grimacing. Several chimed in with their support for this terrible idea. Before long, someone had placed a cup in Jessica’s hand, the crowd was huddled together, and truths were being shared like STDs and unsolicited advice.

  I withdrew to the edge of the group, sitting with my knees up and my elbows resting on them. I couldn’t help but watch Beau with Jessica. Each time she smiled at him was like rubbing salt on a wound or shoving a hot poker up my nose.

  She was sitting close to Beau; his arm was around her. They were laughing together. I wanted to gouge my eyes out.

  And yet, I deserved the torture, didn’t I? I’d been the one to
trick her. Jessica had done nothing amiss and I’d done everything wrong. Still doesn’t make it easy to watch.

  Just when I’d had enough and was thinking about leaving—taking that fast drive—Tina turned to me and said, “Duane baby, truth or dare?”

  She cast me a seductive gaze, her blue eyes flirtatious as she sucked on her index finger. It did nothing for me.

  I shrugged and said, “I’m not playing.”

  “Come on. It was your idea.” Tina pouted, appealing to the crowd.

  I felt myself grimace as I ground out, “Fine. Dare.”

  Most people chose truth, but I’d always preferred dare.

  I’d never had the good sense to be afraid of perilous situations like most people. I’d been bungee jumping, drag racing, sky diving—none of which had ever set my blood pumping beyond a mild degree. The more dangerous my circumstances, the more focused I became. I couldn’t think of doing a single thing that scared me, and I’d never embarrassed easily.

  However, right this minute, talking about myself in front of Jessica felt downright terrifying.

  Tina squealed and clapped. “Yay! Okay, good. I was hoping you’d pick dare. I dare you to come over here and kiss me.”

  Someone, probably an idiot, called out, “I’ll take that dare.”

  I tried not to gag.

  My attention moved to Jessica. I don’t know why I did it. Some part of me, likely the asshole part that enjoys feeling like shit, wanted to see her reaction—or non-reaction.

  But to my surprise, she wasn’t gazing at Beau. She was looking at Tina, and she was looking at Tina like she wanted to bury her alive. The intensity of her glare, the ice behind it, caught me off guard. Suddenly, kissing Tina didn’t seem quite so revolting.

  “All right,” I drawled.

  Jessica’s eyes flickered to mine. Before she was able to hide it, I saw misery and shock. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, I also saw jealousy. Encouraged by the possibility that Jess might care a little about who I was kissing, I stood and picked my way through the crowd, then knelt in front of Tina.