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  “He’s her new guy.” The way Sutton almost spat the words gave me a sliver of hope. Hope for what, I had no idea—though I kind of wished it involved entrails, at least where Adam-the-cheat was concerned.

  “And he’s my ex-boyfriend. As in, we were dating when Lacey hooked up with him. He broke up with me during finals.” There’d never been a ring. The broken engagement could be my pathetic little secret. While I had no choice other than to stomach his knowing that Adam left me for his sister, Sutton didn’t need to know the level of humiliation and hurt that went along with it. Sharing this much with him was hard enough, especially since the conversation would probably make its way to Lacey anyway.

  “Oh.”

  God, he was such a guy. Like it didn’t matter. Good on Adam for having two chicks at once. Blah blah blah. It made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to jump from the truck and walk the twenty miles home rather than sit here with him anymore.

  And I wanted the cookies more than ever.

  Chapter Two

  -Sutton-

  God save me from girls and their drama.

  When Mr. Brandt asked me to pick up Jenna, I jumped at the chance to see her again.

  I don’t know why I would’ve assumed that we could pick up where we’d almost left off that Halloween if only she hadn’t been drunk. Now, instead of the sexy reunion I’d imagined a thousand times since I’d turned her down, she was smashed against the passenger’s car door, arms folded defensively over her chest, looking furious. Her anger at Lacey was still piping hot and she hadn’t said a word to me since we’d started driving unless it was to snipe. Maybe I needed to embrace that as falling right back into old patterns, but I wanted a chance at better patterns with her. Especially since we were going to be working together.

  I couldn’t keep looking at her while I was driving. It didn’t matter, though. The image of when I’d first seen her at the train station was imprinted on my memory. Long sandy-brown waves were tied into a high ponytail that had bounced with her when she walked, making her look far happier than she’d acted. One more glance at her now showed her face was hard as she stared out the window. It was wrong. Jenna was supposed to be soft curves, not hard angles.

  Face. Body. All of her.

  This mess between her and Adam and Lacey had ruined her. In that moment, I wanted to hate my sister, too, if only because of the pain she’d caused Jenna. For better or worse, though, I loved her too much for that. Enough that I hoped there was a way the two of them could bridge this divide—preferably without Adam anywhere near said bridge.

  As stupid as I’d played, I knew full well they’d dated—even if Lacey hadn’t bothered mentioning that to anyone in our family. I’d gone to visit Jenna over Halloween the year after I’d graduated college—hoping for a second chance at an All Hallow’s Eve connection—only to find her enveloped in the big blond’s arms. I hadn’t bothered staying for the rest of the party.

  Of course, judging by the vitriol, Jenna was the “other girl” I’d overheard Adam mention on the phone the weekend Lacey introduced him to the family. He’d been alone in Lacey’s room, supposedly talking to his new boss, when I’d gone to grab an old photo album for Mom. Based on the tone of the conversation, it hadn’t been a bit work-related. Introducing him to the family that weekend meant they’d been together for a while, not just the week or two since he’d left Grand Valley. Lacey didn’t move that fast. No wonder Jenna wanted nothing to do with either of them.

  She was better off without his particular brand of bad news. And Lacey would be, too. I’d tried to make her see the error of her ways once without success. Maybe if I could connect her with Jenna again, that would do the trick. Anything to get the asshole away from both of them.

  For now, though, I hoped breaking the silence with a change in subject could shatter Jenna’s mood, at least if I managed to poke carefully. “What made you take a job with your old man anyway?”

  “The excitement of getting to see your face every day?” Hope surged for about two seconds before Jenna rolled her eyes. “I needed a job. Dad offered, and it beats flipping burgers.”

  Traffic whizzed by in the other lane, taking the opportunity to flirt with it. She hadn’t been kidding about being all business. “The way your dad talks, I figured you’d be working on your first million already.” I took a slow drink from a water bottle, expecting this answer to take as long as most of her others.

  “Who says I’m not? I can’t exactly tell my parents I’m making my fortune as an internet porn star, now can I?”

  I coughed and sputtered, spraying the dash with water. The J. Geils Band song about finding your high school crush as a nude model blared through my head, and I cursed Mr. Brandt and his classic rock obsession. If I glanced at Jenna, I knew I’d undress her in my mind, and there was no way I was going to walk into the job with an erection doing its level best to tent my jeans.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if it was a joke or not. I asked anyway. “Internet porn star?”

  “Down, boy.” She laughed, the first one I’d heard since knocking her over at the train station. “I thought you’d be smart enough to know that was my way of telling you to drop it. What about you? Shouldn’t you have moved on from home by now? Off to conquer the world?”

  I turned to look through the window as I swallowed, switching lanes to avoid her seeing how little I wanted to answer. Chicago was several hundred miles away and not the life I wanted to revisit. When I said I was trying to change, I meant it. The drunken nights and anonymous sex were a thing of my past. “Already did the world tour. Turns out anywhere else isn’t so different from home. Only out there, nobody gives a shit about you. At home you have family. They’re contractually obligated to care.”

  At least as long as you toe the line.

  “Yeah. There’s that.” Jenna wrung her hands in her lap like she could twist them off if she tried hard enough. She was back to softness, as sorrow I didn’t really understand replaced the anger.

  Adam was a douche. We both knew that, whether I told her or not—he didn’t deserve her sadness. “Hey. No clocking out on me. We’re almost to the job.”

  “No worries, Sutton. This has nothing to do with you, and I’ve got my shiny, happy face ready to put on once we stop.”

  A security gate opened and the guard waved us through, clearly recognizing both me and the truck. I pulled into a neighborhood that put where I grew up to shame. The houses here towered and sprawled. Athletes, musicians, politicians—a smattering of the local power players called this place home.

  The house I stopped in front of was the biggest of them all. Three stories high with attic windows above that. Over eight thousand livable square feet above ground, and we were working to redo the basement.

  Because the basketball player who lived here—alone—six months of the year needed something that “captured what it meant to be TJ.” I was over the damn job before we’d started busting up tile. I knew his kind. I’d been his kind, only with a lower profile.

  “We’re here,” I said, shoving the truck into park. “Better put on your happy face. And maybe some grungier—and drier—clothes?”

  Jenna looked down like she’d forgotten what she was wearing. I hadn’t. The denim fit her like a second skin, hugging every inch of her body. And the T-shirt only proved she hadn’t finished developing when I’d gone off to college.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t exactly come from the junkyard. I never had crap clothes at school, and the capris are only going to get filthy in the next ten minutes anyway. I’ll live.”

  Too bad I wasn’t sure I would.

  She bounced inside—her fake happy firmly in place—while I grabbed the box of drywall screws I’d been sent to buy. Inside, Jenna was busy strapping on a tool belt while her dad sketched our plan. I dropped the screws by her feet. “That’s my belt.”

  “Really? Pretty sure it fits me.” Her flashing eyes dared me to challenge her.

  The belt was slung low on
her hips, pouches draped over her ass cheeks. This chick was going to be the death of me and the promises I’d made to my parents to get on the straight and narrow. At the moment, I didn’t care. Considering her father was too busy to pay us any attention, I stepped forward and pulled on the belt, yanking her toward me, my fist in the gap between the leather and her T-shirt.

  “If it was yours, it would fit. Like this.” The metal strap adjuster between my fingers, I cinched the belt tight enough that she gasped. I couldn’t help smiling at the look of shock she wore. “Now it might be yours—if you ask nicely.”

  Heat poured off her, warming every inch of me. Her blue-gray eyes were still wide as my hands skated over the belt, adjusting it. “Stop touching me.”

  “Sorry.” I leaned in close and whispered, “That’s not how you ask nicely.”

  Her hands slid between our bodies, and I wondered if she planned to grab me as revenge. It probably wouldn’t have the effect she intended. Then the tool belt sagged in my grip.

  “You were right. Guess it’s not mine. Oops.” As much as she tried to make it sound snarky, her voice and face didn’t match her tone. She was breathy and the smirk was forced, tight.

  “You kids ready to get to work?” Heavy boot steps sounded on the concrete, and I spun, still holding the tool belt, to face Jenna’s father.

  “Of course, sir. Tell me what you need me to do. That way you’re free to help Jenna.” And I’d be free to get a grip—on something other than her ass.

  After wrinkling her nose at me, Jenna stepped up to him and perched on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Hi, Dad. I’m going to have to dig my old tool belt out of the garage tonight, but I am desperately in need of some demo time.”

  “Good.” He tugged Jenna in a bear hug. “Only problem is, Tanner wants me to go talk to his decorator and make sure we have our ducks in a row. That means you two are on kitchenette demo and cleanup together. Leave the soffits for now. Looks like they have pipes in them and that wasn’t part of the plan.” He kissed the top of her head. “I hate to hug and run, but I’ll see you for dinner at home.”

  And like that, my safety net walked out the damn door, leaving me falling toward the last thing I should’ve had contact with right now. Pretending we hadn’t just had our arms around each other, Jenna jerked her head toward the kitchenette. “I’m willing to let you be in charge this time. What’s the plan of attack? And if you say ‘I have a plan. Let’s attack’ I might have to kill you.”

  “Nope. Even if you forgot, I remembered—I’m Superman. I’m a little more cautious than that.” Work. Once we got started, this would be a lot easier. Right now felt too much like…well, like I’d just had my arms around her with my fingers inches from her behind.

  I crossed the basement and examined the situation. The homeowner, TJ, had said he didn’t care what we did with what we tore out. Some people wanted everything saved—which was impossible when it came to certain pieces. Others, like Tanner James Lohan, preferred to toss everything.

  In this case, it was my lucky day. Mr. Brandt was big into salvaging things from sites like this, and he’d told me I could take whatever I needed for my house. The cabinets here were high-quality cherry with some great detailing. The counter we’d be lucky if we could get off without breaking. If we managed it, though, I had a new kitchen for my place.

  Jenna stepped up to the end cabinet and hefted a sledge, ready to let it swing.

  “No.” I tried to grab the sledge, but she must have misjudged the grip I had. When she let go, the stupid thing slid down to land on my toe. “Motherfucker.”

  “Uh. Sorry?” Wincing, she picked the sledge up again before casting a sidelong glance at me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Dad said to demo it.”

  I set my foot down, trying to ignore the throbbing toe. “I’ll live and possibly even walk again. However, it’s a surgical demo this time. Not smash and burn. We’re saving the cabinets—your dad said I could have them.”

  “You are absolutely no fun.” She huffed a breath and dropped the sledgehammer onto the tile, cracking a large one down the middle. Another wince. “Oops? I hope you weren’t planning on salvaging the tile.”

  I picked up the sledge and returned it to the pile of tools before she did anything else with it. “You’re like a damn tornado. You blow in and start wrecking things.”

  She hugged herself, gripping her arms like she was checking the strength of her muscles. “Yeah. That’s me. Tornado Girl. Some chick stole my superhero outfit before graduation though. I’m stuck with my meek and mild alter ego until I get a replacement.”

  “I…” The snarky response died on my lips as the sparkle in her eyes registered. Tears.

  Shit. I’d thought she needed the banter, that it was helping her deal with things. Looked like I was wrong.

  I shook my head and stepped forward, my hands covering hers until she looked up. “Well, this place needs someone with superhuman strength to tear it apart. So grab hold of the energy from how hurt and angry you are. However, please don’t take it out on my new kitchen.”

  She snorted a laugh and a single tear trickled from her eye, following the curve of her cheek. I caught it with my thumb. Jenna exhaled and said, “Not the kitchen. Check. Whatever. Just…give me a target.”

  I knew whom she really wanted to hurt—and it wasn’t this house. Adam Richmond had betrayed and broken her. He was the target she needed. Lacey had hurt her, too. I couldn’t pretend otherwise; I only hoped they could salvage something from this mess. Especially if we could get her ex out of the way. Whatever Jenna thought, Lacey was a victim of Adam as much as she was. I knew it, and I was pretty sure somewhere deep inside Jenna knew it, too.

  With that thought, a wonderful, horrible plan started formulating. She hated Adam. I hated Adam. Neither of us was happy about the guy being with Lacey. Maybe between the two of us, we could do something about that. I’d thought she could talk to my sister, explain what a tool he was. Of course, there were other options we could take. All I needed was to solidify a course of action and get Jenna on board.

  Step one, however, was making her realize we could be friends regardless of how she felt about my sister at the moment. “How about a little target practice tonight at eight?”

  “What?”

  “I’m picking you up at eight to help you get this out of your system.”

  “I can’t. My parents are going to expect me to stick around tonight. Especially after I tell them—” She bit her lip, hard, turning her face away for a second. “After I tell them what happened.”

  “Then you could also tell them you get some fun time or you’re going to spend the next three months wallowing. No parent will make you stay home with that on the table. They’ll end up pushing you out the door.” I tipped her chin up and brushed my thumb over her cheek again like another tear had fallen. It hadn’t. “I promise.”

  “Clearly, you have never met my mother.”

  “And clearly you forget who saved you from being grounded for breaking curfew more than once.” Maybe I hadn’t seen her in a long time, but I knew the way to Mrs. Brandt’s heart. And if everything fell right, maybe this was a first step on the path to Jenna’s, too.

  Chapter Three

  -Jenna-

  “Because it doesn’t make sense to sit around moping about what might have been.” I sighed and shoved clothes into my closet. With Mom here nagging me, I was never going to figure out something to wear tonight. It was almost eight; Sutton would be here any minute.

  What exactly did a girl wear on a non-date that would involve something he referred to as “target practice”? Unless the target was located between my legs, jeans seemed safe enough. And quite frankly, if Sutton was aiming there, he was about six years too late, no matter how my body argued otherwise.

  It didn’t matter that he was sexy as ever. Now, with the Lacey mess, I couldn’t deal with more Bell drama even if I were willing to make a move.

  Mom frowned as I yanked the skinn
y jeans over my hips. “I’m not suggesting you mope, Jenna, but a date? This soon? And with…her brother? I don’t understand.”

  Me, neither.

  “That’s the thing. It’s not a date. Not even Sutton would be that ballsy. I have to work with him, which means it’s a good thing if he and I can become friends even in the aftermath of Lacey being a…a…”

  Hands planted firmly on her hips, Mom cocked her head to the side and arched a brow. “Lying, backstabbing, man-stealing bitch?”

  The expression and delivery were deadpan serious, and my laughter shattered the stress in the room. “Jeez, Mom, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  “Because if I told you everything, I wouldn’t be able to call myself a lady anymore.” Sighing, she plucked hangers from my bed, draping shirts over her arm. At a tank top with lace trim, she paused. After a minute she held it toward me. “Wear this. And that cute shrug.” That was about as close to a you’re an adult and know what you’re doing as I was likely to get.

  “Thanks for understanding.” I wrapped my arms around her, burying my head against her neck. Droplets of water struck my skin. Not water. Tears. “Mom?”

  She held me at arm’s length and forced a smile. “I never wanted you to go through hurt like this. I remember what it was like.” Dad. She’d taken him back after he’d left us. Gone for four years without a peep until the day he returned, begging her forgiveness. “When your father left…”

  Her voice caught, and I rushed in and hugged her again. “Difference is, I don’t see Adam and me reconciling like you and Dad did. It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. Promise.” At least as soon as I figure a way to make him pay for putting me through this and destroying my friendship with Lacey in the process. God, couldn’t he at least have dumped me like a normal person and then hooked up with my friend? Or better yet, hooked up with someone else?

  The doorbell chimed, and I had to let Mom go. She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Finish getting dressed. I can stall him.”