Zeke: Campbell business meeting in twenty. Be there.
Bodie grinded his teeth at the demand. He was in the office at Olde Tahoe Tap working on billing. He’d planned on gathering his brothers and heading over to Harper’s to paint once he’d finished anyway, but the bossy tone of Zeke’s text knocked paperwork from its top position of things he hated. If such a thing existed as reincarnation, he hoped Zeke came back as a younger brother of an anal control freak.
Luckily Zeke’s office was on the top floor of the art gallery, so Bodie’s commute took him two minutes. He headed directly upstairs and walked into Zeke’s office without knocking. Hey, if Zeke could be annoying, then Bodie could be too. “You can’t just command-text me to get my ass over here.”
Zeke shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Bodie threw himself into one of the two chairs in front of Zeke’s desk and slid a look at Mace, who was already slouched in the other chair. “You too?”
“Yeah. We need to talk.”
Those four words had never once led to anything good. And since both his brothers were looking at him, he knew he was the subject of today’s little impromptu meeting. Great. “No, thanks.”
“Too bad,” Zeke said. “We think you’re working too hard and . . .”
Bodie stopped listening. He was too busy for this shit. Too busy for a lot of things. Like contemplating what Harper might feel like warm and naked and writhing beneath him—
“He’s not listening to a single word you’re saying,” Mace said, eyes on Bodie. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s daydreaming.”
True story.
“Bodie doesn’t daydream,” Zeke said. “On his previous job, daydreaming would’ve gotten him killed.”
Mace studied Bodie like he was a bug on a slide. “He’s definitely let his guard down now that he’s not in constant danger.”
Also true. Bodie had started to let his guard down. At least on the job. As for with people, that was a different story altogether, though he suspected Harper was sneaking her way in past his walls. And she was a danger of a whole different magnitude. She threatened his common sense and peace of mind.
“He’s still on his silent mysterio thing,” Zeke said. “Has been ever since he got home.”
“Yep.” Mace crossed his arms. “Thinks he’s an island of one.”
“It’s a fucking insult,” Zeke said.
“Big-time,” Mace agreed.
Bodie tossed up his hands. “Sitting right here.”
“But are you here?” Zeke asked, touching a finger to his temple.
Bodie did as he’d been taught in the hospital by the shrink he’d been required to see. He breathed. In and out. In and out. In and out.
Because okay, yes, after his crazy past, after losing Austin, Tyler, and then his dad, he’d realized he just needed to be for a change, without the weight of an entire undercover op on his shoulders. Without the unrealistic expectations of his mom to produce her some grandchildren. Without anyone needing anything from him except their next drink.
The only con to this plan was living in close proximity to his hot mess of a family.
No, that was a lie he told himself to keep his emotions in check. He wanted to be here. This way, if something happened, he could show up for those he cared about.
“I’m here now,” he said.
“Because you want to be?” Zeke asked. “Or because you had no other choice?”
“Does it matter?”
“Hell yeah, it matters.”
Bodie tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. He had no idea what he was waiting on. A sudden abundance of patience? He’d always been low on that.
Zeke opened his mouth, but Mace shook his head at him before turning to Bodie. “Look, we just want you to be okay. You came home three months ago, but sometimes it still doesn’t feel like you’re all the way here. Let us in, man. You’re going through some shit. No one could have survived what you did without some mental trauma. We’re on your side. Let us help.”
Bodie scoffed. “Like you ‘helped’ when you told Mom I’m working too hard and not eating enough? Trust me, compared to where I’ve been and what I’ve done, being here is a walk in the park.” He shook his head. “I don’t need help. And the next time you get Mom all worried, I’m going to tell her that you”—he pointed to Zeke—“are cheating on Serena. And you”—he pointed to Mace—“ate all the lasagna she left for me.”
“I’m cheating?” Zeke repeated in shocked disbelief. “But this asshole just ate some lasagna? What the actual f—”
“I mean it.”
Zeke and Mace exchanged a look.
“What now?” Bodie demanded.
“At least I never lie,” Mace said. “Cuz last I heard, Mom still thinks that you retired, not that you’re still on the payroll, just taking leave. When are you going to tell her you’re not sticking around, but eventually going back to the job?”
Never. Because both were lies. And both were better than the truth.
“Look,” Zeke said carefully. “Here’s what we know. An op went bad. So bad, the ATF notified us that you were MIA and presumed dead. Tyler was dead. Dad had a heart attack at the news. A week later, you surfaced in a hospital in Virginia, close to where you’d been working. You had four holes in your body and nearly lost your leg. You had to stay in the hospital for weeks, and it was so touch-and-go that we didn’t tell you we’d lost Dad until you were released.”
Bodie was definitely not going to have back molars left after this conversation. “Why are you telling me shit I already know?”
“Because we think you blame yourself for Tyler’s death,” Mace said. “Which is stupid because you’re not Superman. We also think you blame yourself for Dad’s heart attack—also stupid. What happened wasn’t your fault.” Mace drew a deep breath. “Plus, you’re mad at us. No, don’t deny it,” he said when Bodie started to speak. “And that’s equally stupid to being mad at yourself, by the way.”
Bodie shoved his brother’s hand away from his face, pushed to his feet, and strode the length of the office and back until he could speak calmly. Although, since his leg ached like a son of a bitch, it was more like careful walking than striding. “Why would I be mad at my family?”
“You tell us.”
He shoved his fingers into his hair and took another lap. “You should’ve told me.”
“About Dad?” Zeke asked.
“No, about the fucking Easter Bunny! Yes, about Dad! I missed his funeral. I missed—” Christ. He had to clamp his jaw together and bite his own tongue to get his emotions under control. Everything. He’d missed everything. And now his family had moved on, like it hadn’t happened. Meanwhile, Bodie felt like he’d lost his foothold on his world, leaving him hesitant to attach to anything that he could possibly lose again, including his own brothers and mom.
“You couldn’t have gotten out of the hospital in time for the funeral,” Mace said, voice low. Very serious. “And your doctors felt you were in a dangerous headspace. So yeah, we held the info. It wasn’t like you could change anything. We all miss him, man,” he said, ignoring Bodie’s brewing bad temper. “But we’re dealing with it. You’re not. Instead, you’re hiding out in the bar.”
“I’m not hiding out in the bar. I’m working, same as you both.”
Zeke was clearly not buying what Bodie was selling. “You’re telling us that being a bartender is doing it for you? Seriously? After the adrenaline-fueled life you’ve led? Or are you just here waiting out your leave and then taking off again for another decade?”
“I’m not a fucking fortune-teller,” Bodie snapped. “So I don’t know what I’ll feel tomorrow, or six months from now, or six damn years.” Currently, he was feeling exactly nothing.
No, that was a lie. He was feeling far too much. He needed to get a grip on that. “And you guys don’t have any idea how long you’ll be happy here either. We all know the hard way that the future isn’t guaranteed. But I’m here because I wanted . . .”
“What?” Mace pushed. “You wanted what?”
The three of them were standing close, hackles up like the pack of feral wolves they’d once been. But Bodie didn’t want to fight. And suddenly he also didn’t want to let any more time go by without saying what was on his mind. “I wanted to be here. With you guys.”
Mace blinked in surprise.
Zeke gave a rare smile. “You had me at hello,” he said, wrapping a beefy arm around Bodie’s neck, giving him a noogie, grinding his knuckles against Bodie’s skull—his version of a hug.
And here was the thing. Yes, his asshat brother was six four to Bodie’s six two, but Zeke also had seventy pounds on him—his new dad bod. Bodie was a trained, lean, mean fighting machine and could’ve easily taken him. But brawling wasn’t nearly as fun as it used to be, so he turned the tables and wrapped his arms tight around Zeke at mid-chest, completely immobilizing him. For added measure, Bodie squeezed him extra tight and then gave him a smacking kiss on the side of his head before dropping him.
Zeke slipped all the way to the floor, where Mace was already, because laughing his ass off had apparently melted his knees.
Bodie settled into the chair again, idly picking up a pen and doodling on the pad that had been left there. “So. Anything else we need to discuss?”
“Yeah,” Zeke said. Then hesitated.
“Shit,” Bodie said, imagining the worst. “Now what?”
“It’s about Harper.”
“No.” Bodie shook his head. “Next.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Zeke asked.
“We’re not talking about her.”
“Translation,” Mace said, “he’s into her.”
Zeke paused, then continued. “I was just going to say that I’m sorry I dropped the ball on Harper’s lease, and I’m available to help clean and paint. It should only take a few days tops, but now I want to hear what Bodie meant by ‘no.’”
Bodie ignored this. “I already bought everything we need to paint. I’ll call you guys when I’m ready for your help.”
Again his brothers exchanged glances, and Mace cackled like an old woman.
“You need a life,” Bodie said. “Or to get back with Shay. You ever going to tell us what happened?”
“Deflecting,” Mace said to Zeke, who nodded.
“I’m not deflecting shit.” Bodie looked down at his notepad, where he’d been idly doodling while thinking. Harper was written plain as day. What the hell was wrong with him? Brain aneurysm? Impending stroke?
Zeke barked out a laugh as Bodie crumpled the page and threw it at Mace’s head. First plan of action: secure both of his brothers’ big, fat mouths before they talked to Mom. “How about we pretend we’re not in middle school for a second? Harper Shaw’s a tenant. We keep this professional.”
“You mean as opposed to the time you took out that woman who works at the art gallery? And when you didn’t ask her on a second date, she posted a list of your faults on Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok?”
“She still walks her dog over to the front steps of his warehouse to shit every single morning,” Mace said. “It’s a Great Dane.”
Zeke laughed so hard he was bent over, hands on his knees. Bodie was thinking about kicking him when the office door opened.
In bounded two feral wolf cubs/kids. Ian and Xander, three and seven, respectively, followed by Serena, Zeke’s wife, who was holding feral cub number three—two-year-old Max.
Serena looked her usual mom-in-charge self, but there was an unmistakable harried look in her eyes.
The boys were heading straight toward Zeke’s computer.
“One!” Zeke yelled.
Not one of the devils slowed.
“Two!”
Bodie looked at Mace. “What happens when he gets to three?”
Mace shrugged.
Zeke sighed. “I’ve been a parent for almost eight years and still don’t have a clue what happens after I get to three.” But he stood there and expertly intercepted the boys, scooping up one under each of his arms. He tossed Ian to Mace, and Xander to Bodie before leaning in and kissing his wife. “How’s my baby?”
“He just spit up.”
Zeke laughed softly in sympathy. “I meant my other baby.” He kissed her again. “You.”
“Oh.” Serena smiled and looked flustered. “Well, I just spent the last thirty minutes pretending to help Ian look for a toy I threw out weeks ago. Mom of the Year, right?”
“You’re Mom of the Universe,” Zeke said, making her smile.
Xander grinned up at Bodie. “Toss me!” he demanded, referring to the game where Bodie tossed the kids to the closest couch or relatively soft surface and tickled them until they cried “Uncle!”
Since there wasn’t a soft enough surface, Bodie hung Xander off his back, holding him by his feet.
Ian yelled, “Me too, me too!”
Bodie scooped him up and let him hang off his front.
Meanwhile, Max was sitting on Bodie’s foot, holding on to his leg as he pretended to stagger about the room like Frankenstein’s monster, much to their screams of delight.
“You’re just in time,” Mace told Serena. “Bodie was about to tell us why he’s insisting on helping Harper, our new tenant, all by himself.”
Serena eyed Bodie with her attorney eyes, then smiled. “Maybe he’s finally found someone to hold his interest and take him out of his own head and doesn’t want you two bozos to mess it up.”
“You do realize I just met her,” Bodie said dryly.
“These things happen in an instant,” Serena said. “Mace fell for Shay the second she beaned him in the head with a kickball in high school. You know, way back when, before he messed it all up. And you,” she said to her grinning husband, “you fell for me the second I told you to eff off in Law 101, freshman year at UC Berkeley.”
Zeke’s smug grin faded as both his brothers laughed at him.
“Tell me about her,” Serena said to Bodie.
No one, absolutely no one, ever denied or crossed Serena. “She’s our tenant,” he said.
“And . . . ?”
“Might as well give in, bro,” Zeke said.
Bodie sighed. “She’s a baker from San Diego.”
“And . . . ?”
“She’s kind. Smart. Funny.”
Serena smiled. “So you’ll go out with her. Come back to the land of the living.”
Bodie shook his head, careful not to dislodge any kidlets. “Why did I think coming back to this family was a good idea again?”
“Because we love you and accept you and get you,” Serena said. “Make this happen for yourself, Bodie. You deserve it. Yeah?” She kissed him on the cheek, did the same to Mace, then gave her husband a longer kiss, gathered up her children, and headed to the door. “We’ll be running around outside until Daddy comes to take us out to eat.”
Bodie’s mind was racing. Go out with Harper. He liked the thought. And hell, if it got her out of his system, that was a bonus, right? Listen to the crap he was shoveling himself. Clearly, he wasn’t getting enough oxygen to the brain, because no way that one night with Harper would be enough. “Look, it’s a bad idea, all right? I’m not going to let myself get emotionally attached when I’ve got nothing to offer her. That’s not fair.”
“You have plenty to offer,” Mace said. “You make a mean mai tai.”
“Wow, you’re right. I’m certain that would be enough.”
Mace shook his head. “You’ve got a chance to be happy. Why not take it?”
“Says the guy who let the love of his life walk away.”
Mace slouched in his chair. “You don’t know shit.”
“She’s loved you for years,” Bodie said. “How did you even let this happen?”
Mace’s expression was tellingly and carefully blank. “It turned out, we wanted different things.”
Bodie shook his head. “How different can those things be when the woman comes to the bar whenever you’re there, waiting for you to notice her?”
“Not talking about it,” Mace said.
“Perfect. So we get each other.” Bodie’s phone buzzed with a text from Harper.
Can you come over?
“Meeting adjourned,” he said, and left.
Two minutes later, he knocked on the front door of the soon-to-be Sugar Pine Bakery. It took a few minutes for Harper to unlock the door. Ham bounced out, doing his happy dog dance, wiggling his butt on his way to kiss Bodie to death.
Harper was much more muted. She wore jeans, a long-sleeved fitted tee the same color as her eyes, and a distracted expression. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He scratched Ham behind the ears, and the dog leaned into him for more. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Come in.”
He followed her inside. “The labor can arrive whenever works for you.”
“The labor?”
“My brothers.”
“Oh, I don’t want to put anyone out. I told you, I could paint—”
“Not leaving it all on your plate. Besides, this way we can get it done before your pod arrives.”
“That’s sweet, thanks. But as it turns out, first I need a handyman.”
“As you’ve already noted, I’m good with my hands.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. I’ve got a light fixture in the kitchen that needs fixing. It keeps flickering, and it’s giving me an eye twitch. I think something chewed through the wiring. I’d tell you the second thing that needs to be handled, but that’d imply I have a list. Which I don’t. What I do have is a problem.”
“What is it?”
“Some things are best seen for yourself.” On that cryptic statement, she headed into the kitchen, her ass perfection in her jeans.
“You coming?” she asked.
“Yep.” He caught up to her, followed by Ham, both stopping short when Harper did. The back door was opened, screen in place. “There,” she said, pointing upward to a decent-size spider in the ceiling corner, while completely ignoring the family of raccoons parked outside the screen door, lined up and staring at them.
“You think a spider chewed through the wiring?” he asked.
“Have you seen its fangs?” she asked.
“Have you?”
“Yes, in last night’s nightmares.”
He couldn’t help smiling as he pulled out his phone. “Hate to break it to you, but the raccoons are probably your culprit. Whenever it gets cold, they come looking for warmth. They’re cute but destructive.” Listen to him saying random shit just to keep her talking to him. Clearly, she interfered with his mental processes. “Looks like Roxie brought her entire family. Normally, she’d only do that if someone was silly enough to feed her.”
Harper bit her lower lip.
He laughed. “Stop feeding them. They’ll stop showing up.”
She sighed and nodded.
“To be clear though, you do want me to kill the spider?”
“Duh.”
He had to laugh. It was the craziest thing, but the more unreasonable she got, the more attracted to her he became. Which only reconfirmed the fact that he’d lost it. He had a feeling she could get anyone to do just about anything with a single smile. It was the way she looked at a person, like they were special to her. It gave him ideas. Hell, he’d already had the ideas, but her smile certainly brought them to the forefront of his brain, making it a challenge to think about anything else. It drove him crazy, but he loved everything he’d learned about her so far.
The sound of screeching tires echoed in his head. He loved everything he’d learned about her so far? He sat with that for a second and came to a single conclusion.
He was screwed.
He took care of the spider, flushing the evidence down the upstairs toilet.
She’d followed him into the bathroom, and since it was smaller than his front doormat, it meant her chest was up against his back and he could feel the soft puff of her warm breath on his arm. He glanced over his shoulder to find her not lusting after his bod as he’d hoped, but staring at the water swirling down the toilet.
“I read somewhere that spiders can hold their breath for like two weeks,” she said. “So if you flush them, they can just come back with their friends and family.”
“That story was invented by some evil-minded exterminator so that he could come back in two weeks and charge for another service.”
That tugged a laugh out of her, and he smiled, enjoying the light of good humor in her gaze. “The spider’s gone for good.”
She sagged in relief, then straightened and gave him a spontaneous hug that was so exuberant, she nearly knocked him into her shower. “Thank you.”
He grinned. “You barely acknowledged me when I scared off a bear for you, but I get a hug for murdering a spider?”
“Once again, did you see his fangs? And . . .” She hesitated. “I did notice when you took care of the bear. I just tried not to.”
He smiled, but his brows went up in surprise when a young woman came up the stairs. The one he’d fed a few nights back and had worried about ever since. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that read, c is for Cookie and that’s good enough for me, which he was guessing belonged to Harper. He wondered if the girl did as well. They didn’t look like sisters. Plus, the teen still had runaway all over her, and a recent one who hadn’t yet been eaten up by the streets.
She took one look at him and froze.
“Ivy, this is Bodie Campbell,” Harper said. “He runs the Olde Tahoe Tap.”
The girl sucked in a breath. “You own the bar?”
“It’s a family thing,” he said. “And since we’re sharing information, what’s your name? What can I call you besides Dine-and-Dasher?”
“Wait.” Harper divided a gaze between them. “You two know each other?”
“Nope,” Ivy said.
“Okaaaaay,” Harper said slowly. “Well then, Bodie, meet Ivy. She’s staying with me right now.”
Ivy lifted her chin. “And it’s not dine-and-dash when you say it’s on the house.”
“It was absolutely on the house,” Bodie said. “It’s just that usually, people say thank you before vanishing into the night.”
“Thank you,” Ivy said, and he doubted she could’ve fit another drop of dry sarcasm into the two words if she’d tried.
He looked at Harper. “How long have you two known each other?”
Harper smiled. “Two whole days. Almost three.”
Ah, hell. The girl was homeless, and Harper had taken her in. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Harper turned to Ivy. “Why don’t you go get us some food from the deli down the street?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out some cash.
Ivy stared down at the money. “That’s too much.”
“Not for both of us. Get whatever you want, but if at least some of it could be a quarter healthy, that’d be great. Surprise me.”
When Ivy vanished out the door, Bodie looked at Harper. “How do you know she’ll be back?”
“How do you know she won’t?”
“Can I be frank?”
“Sure, but I like the name Bodie better.”
This got a rough laugh out of him. “I’m serious. How well do you know her?”
“She’s my first employee.”
“Which doesn’t answer my question.”
“I know,” she said. “But her story isn’t mine to tell.”
“What can you tell me?”
Harper sighed. “I found her trying to break in on my first night here. To sleep,” she said when he opened his mouth.
In the military, and then the ATF, he’d seen the worst side of humanity. He’d become numb to it. He’d come across a lot of girls in Ivy’s situation, but none of them had affected him like when he’d turned around the other night and found her gone, knowing how cold it’d been forecasted to be. “You know she’s a runaway, right?”
“She says she’s emancipated.”
“I’ve got a friend who’s a cop,” he said. “I could have him run her—”
“No.” She shook her head and pressed a finger to his chest. “We’re not going to run her. I’m not going to betray her trust that way. She’s a good kid.”
He looked into her pretty eyes and wrapped his fingers around the one she was still poking him with. “I hope you’re not wrong.”
“I’m not.”
“Still. You’re going to be careful.”
She rolled her eyes.
He gently wriggled her finger. “You’re going to be careful.”
“Hey, careful is my middle name. I was super careful leasing this place, and look what a gem it got me.”
He let out a low laugh. “We’ll start painting. And when your stuff comes, we’ll help you move in. Along with that, we’re going to give you a credit on your first month’s lease. It’s the least we can do for being so behind.”
She smiled as if he’d just awarded her a million dollars. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll even take back half the things I thought about you.”
“Just half?”
“Well.” She looked at a spot over his shoulder as if it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. “Just the bad half.”
He grinned. “Ditto.”