A Brevia Beginning

Whoa. Where had that come from? He blinked several times to clear his head.

“Do you have something in your eye?” the mouse asked. “I have eyedrops in my purse if you need them.”

So much for his charm with women. He was rusty these days. “No,” he answered.

“He don’t need anything,” Luke interrupted. “He’s on his way out.”

“No wonder your bar is so run-down.” Scott bit out a laugh. “If this is how you treat your customers...”

He saw Luke’s eyes narrow a fraction. “My customers don’t bad-mouth my bar. This establishment happens to be a local favorite.”

Scott made a show of looking around at the nearly empty stools and tables. “I can see how popular you are. Yes, indeed.” He glanced at the waitress, who gave a small shake of her head before dropping her gaze to the ground.

Somehow the disappointment he read in her eyes ground its way under his skin, making his irritation at being kicked out swell to full-fledged anger. He didn’t know why it mattered, but suddenly Scott was determined not to let the bartender win this argument. Nobody in this one-horse town was going to get the best of him.

“I’m not leaving until I get another drink.” He crossed his arms over his chest and dared the other man to deny him.

“Maybe you should just give him one more,” Lexi suggested softly.

“No way.” Luke reached for the phone hanging next to the liquor bottles. “This loser is finished, one way or another.” He pointed the receiver in Scott’s direction. “I’ll give the police a call. Tell them I’ve got a live one making a disturbance down here, and let them haul you away.”

The last thing Scott needed was his brother finding him in a town bar tonight unannounced, let alone making trouble. Scott wanted to talk to Sam, but on his terms and in his own time frame.

Sam had moved to North Carolina several years ago and was definitely protective of his new hometown. Scott told himself he’d stopped caring about his brother’s opinion years ago, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go toe-to-toe with him tonight. He knew it would be easier to cut his losses and walk out now, but he couldn’t do it. Not with Lexi and Luke staring at him. Backing down wasn’t Scott’s style, even when it was in his best interest.

His gaze flicked to the front door, then back to the bartender. “I noticed a for-sale sign in the window,” he said casually.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “You in the market for a bar?”

“Someone could do a lot with this space. Make it more than some two-bit townie hangout.”

“Is that so?” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you make me an offer, city boy?”

“Why don’t you get me a drink and maybe I will.”

A slow smile curved the corner of the bar owner’s lips. He turned and grabbed a bottle off the shelf.

Lexi tugged on Scott’s sleeve. “It’s none of my business, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to discuss a possible business transaction now. You might want to wait until the morning.”

“I think this is the perfect time,” Scott said and leaned closer to her, picking up the faint scent of vanilla. How appropriate for a woman who looked so innocent. “And you’re right, it’s none of your business.”

The bartender placed a drink in front of Scott and clinked his own glass against it.

“Be that as it may,” Lexi said, tugging again, “in order for a deal to hold up, there is the matter of due consideration. That won’t apply if one or the other party is proved to be under the influence of drugs or alcohol.”

Scott shrugged out of her grasp. “Honey, are you a waitress or a lawyer? Because you handle those big words a lot better than you do a tray of glasses.”

“That’s right.” Luke’s eyes lit up. “Julia said you were an attorney when she got me to hire you. Said you worked your way through law school waiting tables.”

“She did?” Lexi had worked her way through law school clerking at her father’s firm. She hadn’t waited on anything other than an airplane before tonight. Still, she nodded. “I did. I am. An attorney, that is. I’m currently taking a break.”

Scott eyed her. “As a cocktail waitress?”

Her lips thinned, which was a shame because he’d noticed they were full and bow-shaped. “For now.”

Scott couldn’t resist leaning closer again. “You might be the walking definition of the term ‘don’t quit your day job.’”

“You’re a jerk,” she whispered.

“Yes, I am.”

Luke clapped his hands together. “This is perfect.” He took a step back and flipped on and off the light switch next to the bar. “We’re closing early, y’all,” he shouted to the lone couple in a booth toward the back. “Clear out now.”

Ignoring the groans of protest, he pointed to Lexi. “You can write up an offer for the pretty boy. Better yet, there’s an old typewriter on my desk in the back. Grab it and you can make the contract.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think—”

“I’m not asking you to think,” Luke barked. “You’ve broken a half-dozen glasses tonight. If you want to keep this job, get the damn typewriter.”

She threw a pointed glance at Scott. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Looking into her bright eyes, the only thing he could think of was that he wanted to kiss her senseless. But he sure as hell had a longer list of things he didn’t want.

He didn’t want the botched arrest at the U.S. Marshals Service that had taken his partner’s life and put Scott on forced administrative leave. He didn’t want the resignation letter burning a hole in his back pocket. He didn’t want to go back to his empty condo in D.C. and stare at the yellow walls for days on end. He didn’t want to feel so helpless and alone.

“Don’t tell me you’re all talk?” Luke slapped a wet towel onto the bar as he spoke. “I should have guessed you’d be willing to spout out big words but not follow up with any action. If you aren’t serious, get the hell out of my bar. I’ve got better things to do than waste my time with this.”

Scott spoke to the bar owner without taking his eyes from Lexi. “I’m all about action.” He picked up his glass and drained it again. “Lexi, would you please get Luke’s typewriter? We need to talk dollars for a few minutes. See how badly your good old boy really wants to sell.”

Chapter Two

Scott felt someone poking at him, but couldn’t force his eyes to open. “Go away,” he mumbled.

A shower of ice-cold water hit his face. He sat up, sputtering and rubbing his hands across his eyes. Water dripped from his hair and chin.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”

“I’m going to kill you,” he said with a hiss of angry air, then looked around. He was on a worn leather couch in a small office, the shelves surrounding him dusty and lined with kitchen equipment. “Where am I?”

Sam handed him a towel. “You passed out. Luke Trujillo called me at three in the morning, laughing his butt off. He said he offered you a ride, but you insisted you wanted to spend the night in your bar. When did you get back into town?”

“Last night.”

“You didn’t call. Does Dad know you’re here?”

“Not yet.” Scott covered his eyes with the towel, under the guise of drying off his hair. “I didn’t call because our last family get-together didn’t exactly end on good terms.”

Memories of the previous evening came back to him in full force. When he was certain he had his features schooled to a blank mask, he lowered the towel. “But I’m a big boy, Sam. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Are you kidding?” His brother paced back and forth across the worn rug between the couch and an oversize oak desk on the far wall. “You didn’t know where you were a minute ago.”

“I was disoriented. It happens.”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“It was a misunderstanding. The guy was being a jerk about serving me, so I gave him a song and dance about wanting to buy this place.”

Sam grabbed a piece of paper from the desk and shoved it toward Scott. “This isn’t a song and dance. It’s a contract for purchase and sale. You gave him a down-payment check for fifty grand. Luke has wanted to sell for over a year now. To hear him tell it, the place is a money pit. He’s got family in Florida. Hell, he’s probably already packing his bags.”

As Scott read the words on the paper, his head pounded even harder. The contract had his signature on the bottom, along with Luke Trujillo’s and one other. In neat, compact writing was the name Lexi Preston scrawled above the word Witness on the last line.

The pixie waitress-attorney from last night. Clear green eyes and the shimmer of red hair stole across his mind. Wanting to impress her. Wanting to keep drinking. His two main objectives from late last night. Now, in the harsh light of morning, he realized how stupid and impulsive he’d been.

Again.

Most of the trouble—and there was a lot of it—Scott had in life was a result of being impulsive. He led with his emotions, anger being the top of that list. Normally, he wouldn’t let himself slow down enough to care about the consequences. But the botched arrest two months ago, a direct result of his poor judgment, had put him on the sidelines of his own life. It drove him crazy, although he wouldn’t have that discussion with Sam.

“I know you’re still getting a paycheck and Dad says you’ve done well on investments, but it’s a lot of cash, Scott. What are you going to do when you go back to the Marshal Service? I don’t want to see you throw your money away like this.”

Sam was the by-the-book brother, the one who’d always done the right thing. The responsible Callahan. At least, that was how it had been after their mother died. But a lot of years had passed since then. Scott was a grown-up now and he wasn’t about to admit that he’d messed up yet again.

“I bought a bar. So what?” He threw the towel onto the floor by the couch and combed his hands through his hair. “I can afford it.”

“That’s not the point,” his brother argued.

“Sam, I’m a big boy. I know what I’m doing. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you, but you’re going to have to trust me on this.” He walked past his brother and down the short hall to the bar’s main room. He couldn’t let Sam see how in over his head he felt. He’d done a lot of stupid things in his life, but last night might take the cake. What had felt warm and inviting then now just looked in need of a good scrubbing. The wood floors were scratched and dull and the tables mismatched, several sporting a layer of grime years thick. The place definitely had more charm in the half dark.

“I don’t have much of a reason to trust you, and I definitely don’t trust Lexi Preston.”

Scott spun around, then winced as the abrupt movement made his head hurt more. “What about Lexi?” he asked, not willing to address the issue of trust between him and Sam this early in the morning.

“She represented the family who tried to take away Charlie from Julia.”

“I don’t understand.” Scott had immediately fallen for Julia’s toddler son. He didn’t know Julia well, but it was clear she was a natural mother. “I thought the ex-boyfriend’s family was from Ohio. What’s the attorney doing in Brevia? Julia got full custody.”

Julia had been embroiled in the custody case when she and Sam were first together. Being with Julia had stopped Sam from taking a job Scott had helped arrange for him with the U.S. Marshals. It had been Scott’s big attempt to repair his relationship with his brother, and it had felt like one more rejection when Sam had chosen Julia instead. Scott hadn’t quite forgiven her for that, but it hadn’t prevented him from forming a quick affection for the boy.

Sam shook his head, frustration evident in the tense line of his shoulders. “I don’t understand, either. She got to town yesterday with some sob story about how she needs a fresh start. Julia may talk tough but she’s a total softy at heart. She helped Lexi get the job and is renting the woman her old apartment.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” Scott asked, his mind suddenly on sharp alert. Julia was family now. He protected family, even if his methods were sometimes unorthodox.

Sam shook his head. “I want that woman to stay away from all of us. I don’t like the fact that she was involved in this mess with you.”

Scott bristled at Sam’s condescending tone. “I told you, I can take care of myself. I don’t know if she has ulterior motives coming to town, but Lexi Preston didn’t influence my decision to buy this bar.”

“She let you enter into a contract when you were drunk.”

“Who said I was drunk last night? Maybe I bought this place as an investment. It’s an historic building and—”

“You’re not fooling me. I know the Marshals incident messed with your head. I know you’ve been drinking more than normal and your normal is pretty damn much.” Sam took a step closer. “I think you need help.”

Blood roared through Scott’s head. He hadn’t been back in Brevia twenty-four hours and Sam was already starting another referendum on how messed up he was. He couldn’t afford to debate whether it was true. Not yet.

“Get out.” He spoke the words slowly, without any of the emotion swirling through his gut.

“Scott, listen—”

“No, Sam, you listen.” Scott began straightening chairs around the various tables, needing something—anything—to do with his hands. Needing to take some action. “The incident didn’t mess with my head. It killed a good man. Maybe I use alcohol to dull the memories of that more than I should. But I’m not out of control. I walked away when it was clear that part of the internal investigation meant me smearing my dead partner’s reputation. I don’t know right now if I’ll go back. So I bought this place. It’s an investment. Not one that you would make, but it’s my money and my life. Back off. Go home to Julia and Charlie. I don’t need you here.”

The sound of the chairs scraping against the wood floor gave welcome relief to the silence that stretched between the brothers. Finally, Scott stopped and looked over. “I mean it. I’m fine.”

Sam gave a curt nod. “I’m here, Scott. When you do need me, I’m here.” He turned and walked out of the bar into the bright morning.

As the door swung shut behind him, Scott turned a chair around and sank into it, massaging his forehead with two fingers.

What the hell was he going to do now?

* * *

Lexi tried to ignore the pounding on the apartment door. As she stared, arms folded tightly across her chest, the noise grew. Had her father had a change of heart already, prepared to forgive her supposed lapse in judgment if she came home and continued to do his bidding? It was late morning and she’d already unpacked her few belongings and made a run to the local grocery for essential supplies. As silly as it seemed, she’d just gotten a taste of freedom and didn’t want to give it up so soon.

She also didn’t want her neighbors to worry or, worse, call Julia or Sam. Taking a fortifying gulp of air, she turned the knob and opened the door.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Scott Callahan loomed in the doorway, irritation and a healthy five-o’clock shadow etched on his handsome face. He was still wearing the same casual sweater and wrinkled jeans from the night before. She looked for the resemblance to Julia’s husband, Sam, figuring it was too much of a coincidence to have two Callahans in the same small town.

She’d been shocked when he’d told her his name as she was putting together the contract for sale last night. Although Scott’s hair was dark, the two men shared the same brilliant blue eyes, strong jaw and towering height that made them both intimidating and undeniably male.

She took an involuntary step back, hating the blush creeping up her cheeks. Why did this man rattle her so much?

That was easy enough to answer. Just the sight of him made her long-dormant imagination kick into high gear. His hair just grazed his collar, his blue eyes made brighter by the contrast to long lashes that any woman would envy. He was beautiful, the kind of handsome that would attract female attention wherever he went.

Men who looked like Scott Callahan didn’t notice Lexi, and last night he’d certainly noticed her. At least it had felt that way. He’d leaned in and his eyes had caught on her mouth as if he wanted to kiss her. She’d imagined what that kiss would feel like as she lay in her bed in the wee morning hours, watching dawn through the curtains in her bedroom. She could almost taste his lips on hers even now.

Now.

She blinked and cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”

He lifted one long arm to rest on the door frame, muscles bunching under his sweater. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. He seemed a lot less irritated than he had a few moments earlier. “What’s your story, Lexi Preston? You look shy and talk like an academic, but you’ve got a wild side. I can tell.”

She hugged her arms more tightly around herself. “You can tell no such thing.”

“I can tell you want me to kiss you.”

She sputtered, “I do not.”

“Liar.” He took a lazy step toward her. “But that’s not going to happen. Yet.”

Lexi was shocked by the ripple of disappointment that rolled through her. “What do you want?” she repeated. “I’m guessing this isn’t an official employee meeting.”

He pulled a sheet of paper out of his back pocket. “I want to know why you let me sign this damn contract.”

“You told me to write it up. I didn’t let you do anything. In fact, I advised you not to sign it.”

“I was drunk.”

She cocked her head to one side and studied him. The rumpled clothes, the hint of bruising under his eyes. “You said you weren’t.”

“I hide it well.”

No wonder he’d been flirting with her. It was the alcohol, not attraction. Of course. A guy as hot as Scott would definitely need beer goggles to flirt with her. “I warned you about due consideration. You assured me you were in full control of your faculties and able to make a rational decision.”

“I want out.” He came all the way into the apartment, filling it with his large, muscular body and...sheesh, she had a one-track mind.

“The bank has to draw up the final contract. Maybe you won’t be approved for the loan.”

“I can guarantee I’ll be approved, so I want out now.”

A whistle sounded from behind her. “It’s not that easy.” She turned on her heel and padded to the kitchen, pulling two cups from the cabinet. She dropped a tea bag in each and poured the hot water. Turning back, she handed one to Scott. He eyed it suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“Green tea. It helps me think.” She took a small sip. “Explain to Luke Trujillo that you were inebriated last night. The contract won’t hold up if you signed it under the influence. I’m sure Tina will vouch for how many drinks you had over a normal limit.”

“That’s the problem. No one can know I was drunk.”

“Why not?”

He brought the mug to his mouth, sniffed and made a face. “You’re kidding with this, right? Where’s the coffee?”

“I don’t drink coffee. Green tea is full of antioxidants.”

“You’re an attorney and a health nut? That’s some combination.”

“My father says... Never mind.” She took another drink. “Don’t be a baby. It’s just tea.” She studied him intently. “Why do you want to hide that you were drunk?”

“I’m not a baby,” he said and took a huge gulp of tea. “That’s disgusting.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“You’re such a lawyer.” He shook his head and reached around her to place the mug on the counter. “My brother’s already given me grief about last night. I don’t need him on my back for anything else.”

“Are the two of you close?”

“Not a bit.”

She raised the cup to her lips again, then lowered it as her mind raced. “If you’re not close, why do you—”

“It’s complicated.”

Lexi could just imagine. She’d known him for less than twenty-four hours, but Scott Callahan was already the most intriguing man she’d ever met. At first glance he was all alpha-male bravado, but she sensed something more. His eyes had a haunted look that wasn’t related to a hangover, but might have everything to do with a bone-deep loneliness. The kind of lonely people felt if they thought no one in the world truly loved them. As if they had no home.

The kind of lonely Lexi often saw reflected in her own eyes.

She had nothing in common with this man, but she wanted to reach out to him. She yearned to understand what made someone who appeared so sure of himself at the same time give off waves of uncertainty.

She wanted to really know him.

As if he could read her intention, his eyes turned cold. “Never mind. I’ll figure something out.” His voice cut through her thoughts. “Luke gave me a fair price and I’ve got the time and money to deal with it. Maybe I’ll redo the whole thing and sell it for a hefty profit.” His words were sure but his tone still held a hint of uncertainty.

“If you didn’t want to own a bar, why did you buy it?”

“I don’t know.” He ran his hand through his almost-black hair. “I’m known for being impulsive. It’s my trademark.”

There must be more to the story, but as much as she wanted to know, it wasn’t any of her business. Yet. “I never do anything impulsive.”

“That’s not how I heard it.” He glanced over her shoulder at the tray of half-full glasses sitting on the kitchen table. “Here you are, a fancy-pants corporate attorney, renting my sister-in-law’s apartment, practicing to be a bar waitress in this sleepy Southern town. Are you telling me this is some sort of master plan?”

She almost smiled. “I guess you’re right. I’ve been pretty impulsive in the last couple of days.”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’m going to take it as one, anyway.” She placed her mug on the counter. When she turned back, Scott had stepped closer. Too close. Close enough that she could smell toothpaste on his breath and the musky scent of last night’s cologne on his shirt.

“If you want to get impulsive, I can help.” He reached his hand up and trailed the pad of his thumb along her jaw. “I’m an expert at impulsive.”

“I’m not that kind of girl,” she whispered, hating that he broke straight through to her earlier longing.

“I can’t figure out what kind of girl you are.” His mouth turned up at the corner. “But I know you’re the worst waitress I’ve ever seen.” He straightened, dropping his hand. “I’m the boss now. So you’d better practice all day with those glasses. Because you helped get me into this mess and I’m not going to let you cost me more money every night. Luke may have owed Julia a favor, but I don’t owe anyone anything.”

Lexi sucked in a breath. “Are you threatening to fire me?”

“It’s no threat,” Scott told her. “I’m sure you’ve got a corner office waiting for you somewhere. I don’t care why you’re slumming it in a bar. But it’s mine now. I don’t play favorites. Show up a half hour early for your shift tonight. We’re having an employee meeting.”

He turned and headed for her door.

“This is because you’re mad that I wrote the contract. You want to blame me. It’s not fair.”

He held up one hand and ticked off several points. “I’m mad that I signed the contract. I blame myself for that, but I don’t appreciate you being a part of that moment. And if you haven’t realized it before, life isn’t ever fair. Deal with it.”

Without looking back, he strode from her apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

Chapter Three

By five o’clock that night, Scott’s headache was way beyond a hangover. He’d driven down to Charlotte to pick up some updated electronics the bar needed right away, along with a few extra clothes until he had time to get to his condo in D.C. for his stuff. He’d noticed a bathroom and shower off the office in back, where he’d bunk until he could figure out what to do with his new investment.

Damn. His plan hadn’t included staying in Brevia for more than a few days, and definitely not in this run-down bar. He didn’t know why he’d come in the first place, other than wandering around D.C. and watching ESPN in his place had been driving him crazy.