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Nate straightens, arches an eyebrow at Taylor, who gives him a nothing stare in return.
The quiet is punctuated by Grant chopping tomatoes for the burger special. The door clangs, and another customer enters and heads over to one of the booths, newspaper tucked under his arm.
I nope out of the weird situation and fix them their coffees to go. I place the paper cups in a cardboard holder.
“Anything else?”
Nate opens his mouth, affecting another lean. “I was thinking?—”
“Nate,” I say, “kindly get off my counter. People gotta eat there.”
Jesse smiles, but it’s gone so quickly I’m sure I imagined it. “That your brother who just scuttled off?”
“Is that an official question?” I ask. “Because I believe you need to read me my rights for that. And I’ll definitely need a lawyer.”
“There’s an open investigation involving that stolen car you were driving.”
Todd chokes on his sip of coffee nearby, and I glare daggers at Jesse.
“We’re going to need you to stop by the station to give your statement this afternoon,” Taylor says. “Turns out your car was registered to your brother.”
God damn it, Billy.
“Fine. I’ll be there.”
What choice do I have? Billy’s made his bed yet again, but it’s me that has to lie in it. It makes my blood boil, both at him, and because it’s Jesse involved in our family business a second time.
Jesse grabs his coffee. Nate does the same. The pair make their way toward the exit, and I’m happy to see their backs. But Taylor stops, looking back at me once he reaches the doors, those blue eyes full of sharp intent.
“You gonna be there this weekend?”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
To his credit, he hasn’t called me his pet nickname yet.
“The potluck?”
“That’s right. You remember what type of potluck it is, right?”
My breath catches. I’d forgotten. Every year, Ganny Taylor hosts the fallwrestle and cook-offat her house for family and friends. Every year, Jesse wins, but last year he had to sit it out because of a cop-out injury. I won instead.
“Yeah, I remember.”
Jesse points at me aggressively, his lips pulled into a thin line.
“Your ass is mine this year.”
“I’ll see you in hell, Taylor.”
Five
JESSE
“Fuck,”Deputy Davis says as he gets into the squad. “she’s so fucking hot, man. I’d love to give it to her again, for old time’s sake.”
I force myself to exhale through my nose, staring into my coffee. I picture smashing it into the side of Davis’ head. Unlike my brothers, I havesomeimpulse control.
