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“For what? What’s wrong up at your house? Need me to come take a look?”
Draven allowed a small smile to come forward.He shook his head and backed away from his father. Andy had always been a man who was good with his hands. Draven’s mother used to call him Mister Fix-it. Draven’s heart softened at the thought of his mother. She had been beautiful, soft-spoken, and kind. She was taken from them way too damn soon. He missed her something fierce. He never understood how someone so kind and loving could be burdened with something as vicious as cancer.
“Nope. Just have a certain hardware store owner I need to go have a chat with.” Draven gave a little wave and made his way around the house to the front where he’d parked his truck. He just hoped the owner of the hardware store was in today. They needed to have a conversation. Apparently, he hadn’t got the message last night at the Hen House.
Brett Falco was going to pay for Cashea’s tires.
Draven tipped back the travel mug and finished off the rest of his coffee. He set the empty container down in the cupholder and waited. The muffins Bee had given him had not survived the ride into town. The woman had a talent that was not wasted. They had been everything Draven had known theywould be. He glanced over at the crumpled bag resting on the passenger seat and wished he’d asked for three of them.
He had arrived in town and had parked outside Iron Hardware. It was owned by Brett’s family and had been for years. It was one of two major hardware stores in Ironhaven. Draven tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while his gaze was locked on the front door of the store.
Iron Hardware was located in a small plaza with a few other stores. It was early in the morning, and most of the shops were just now opening. A few pedestrians were ambling down the street. Draven was sure traffic would pick up soon as the day went by. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to wait long for Brett to show.
Draven glanced in his driver’s-side rearview mirror and took in a large silver pickup truck parking in a handicap spot. Music blared loudly from the vehicle before it suddenly cut off. Draven’s interest was piqued. He was sure whoever was driving the vehicle didn’t need that spot. Draven stiffened when he saw who was getting out of the driver’s door.
Brett.
Looked as if Draven was going to get his wishand not have to be here all morning waiting for the dipshit to show. He slid his keys into his pocket and stepped from his truck. He grabbed his brimmed hat and slammed it down on his head. He shut his door and headed toward the silver truck. Brett had yet to see him. He’d walked to the rear of his truck and was getting something out of the back.
“It’s a fine morning, isn’t it.” Draven slowly strolled alongside the silver vehicle. It was an oversized cab and top-of-the-line. It must have cost Brett a pretty penny. New tires for Cashea’s car shouldn’t be a problem for him.
“What the fuck do you want?” Brett glanced over at him. His eyes narrowed in on Draven. He pulled a duffle bag from the back of the truck and hefted the straps to rest on his shoulder.
“It would seem that we are not done with our little conversation we had last night.” Draven folded his arms over his chest. He didn’t like the man in front of him. He knew what type of guy Brett was. He was a user and an abuser. He was a decent-looking guy, and in small towns that meant he would think he was God’s gift to women. Draven had met plenty of men like him. They were all the same. It was no wonder he hadn’t taken Cashea’srejections lightly. He was used to getting everything he wanted.
“Oh, we are done all right. Don’t think you can come bully me. I’ll call the fucking police.” Brett spun on his heels and walked to the other side of the truck.
Draven smirked and walked around the hood, meeting him on the sidewalk. Draven had no problems using his size to intimidate the other man. Brett sure had no problems putting his hands on women who didn’t ask for it. The memory of Cashea’s slashed tires came to mind.
“I don’t think we are. Someone slashed Cashea’s tires last night.” Draven took another step toward Brett who backed up.
“Sounds like she has bad fucking luck,” Brett snapped.
“Or maybe some son of a bitch, who doesn’t understand the word no, took a knife to them.” Draven closed the gap between them. If he had to beat the money out of Brett, he would. He would pay for the damage to Cashea’s car. It had been a dick move.
“And you think I did it?” Brett smirked.
“Oh, I’m sure you did it,” Draven growled.
“You don’t have any proof, old man,” Brett spat. “That bitch deserved it, too.”
Draven saw red. He snatched Brett up by his shirt and slammed him into the side of his truck. The vehicle rocked from the force of Brett’s body. His bag slid down to the ground, forgotten.
“Don’t call her a bitch,” Draven warned. His fist ached to wipe that smirk clean off Brett’s face.
Brett had the audacity to laugh. “Why not? You want her for yourself? She’s a fucking tease. Her pussy’s probably no good any-damn-way.”
Brett tried to push Draven off him but failed. Draven was close to losing his shit and pummeling Brett’s face. He had no right to speak of Cashea in that manner. She was a good woman with a big heart. Her smile had brought out feelings he had thought were long gone. Memories of sinking into her warm cocoon had Draven wanting to defend her against everything. Brett didn’t deserve a woman like Cashea, much less even be able to say her name.
“You’re going to pay for her tires, asshole,” Draven bit out through clenched teeth.
“Who the fuck is going to make me?”
Draven landed an short jab into Brett’s stomach. He folded over immediately, gasping forbreath. Draven bit back a grin. It had felt good. He’d purposely hit him right in the gut. He was surprised the idiot hadn’t tossed whatever he’d had for breakfast.
“Is everything all right between you two?” an older gentleman asked, standing inside the doorway of the drugstore that was located next to the hardware store.
“Everything is fine,” Draven replied.
