Jay Crownover - Rowdy

“I think he loved her from that moment on.” I sighed and looked down at my hands where they had unconsciously laced together. “My dad is a very traditional man. His family immigrated from Mexico City when he was just a baby and he really believes in the old way of doing things. He is hyperreligious and didn’t mind Poppy being friends with Rowdy because he was an orphan and his foster family were active members in our church, where my dad presided over the congregation. But he never would’ve condoned a romantic relationship between the two of them and Rowdy always knew that. It never stopped him from wearing his heart on his sleeve, though. I think he was just waiting for the two of them to get older, for them to go off to college, and then when Poppy was out from under my dad’s thumb, she would see they were meant to be together.”

Cora’s legs stopped swinging and she looked me dead in the eye.

“So what happened?”

I barked out a dry laugh and pushed my long hair back over my shoulder. “Good question.”

Now it was her turn to lift an incredulous eyebrow, only hers was dotted with a sparkly pink piercing.

“You don’t know?”

“Nope. All I know is he left school, left her, and just dropped off the map. I asked her about it a few times here and there over the years but she never gave me any details.”

“Are you here for the job, Salem, or are you here for Rowdy?” It was very Cora to ask the question so bluntly.

I could play it coquettish, smile and brush it off, but I liked her honesty and forthrightness, so I figured I should offer her the same. Plus I wasn’t afraid of any of this crew knowing I was here for one of their own. They should know that eventually they were going to have to share Rowdy with me.

“Both. I came for both.”

She made a noise that was a mix between a snort and a laugh and hopped off the desk.

“I don’t think he has any idea what to do with you. I think he’s afraid of you.”

I got to my feet and smoothed my hands down the fabric of my skirt. I watched as she made a noise of distress and pressed an arm across her chest. Her dual-colored eyes got big in her face.

“Are you okay?”

She made a face and turned a little pink. “I have to go. Apparently it’s time to feed my kid.”

Aww . . . how sweet was that? “No worries. I got the shop for the rest of the day. I can manage whatever is left for the afternoon crowd.”

She nodded and reached for her purse. I wasn’t surprised that it was zebra striped bright yellow and black. Cora was definitely colorful in appearance and personality.

“Try and play nice with Rowdy for the rest of the day. Obviously the two of you need to have a come-to-Jesus talk, and if I have to put my foot up his ass in order to make him see that, then I will be happy to do it.”

I followed her to the top of the stairs and put a hand on her shoulder before she could head down.

“No. He needs to get there on his own. I’ve been letting him tiptoe around me for weeks and I’ve given him plenty of time to adjust to the idea that I’m back in his life and that I’m not going to go away. He’s obviously not ready for me yet.”

She laughed a little and we made our way back into the shop. The waiting room had gotten busy in the fifteen minutes I was upstairs, so it was going to take a second to get everyone situated and straightened out. She leaned over and whispered so only I could hear, “Just so you know, I would pay a small fortune to see him in those tight football pants he used to wear when he was younger. I Googled him once and saw a picture from when he played for Alabama.”

She waved her hand dramatically in front of her face and gave me a little wave on her way out the front door. I had to laugh and just happened to look over my shoulder to catch Rowdy staring at me.

For once, the angry gloss was gone from his eyes as he watched me unblinkingly. I saw it clear as day in that split second. The reason there was so much division and dissonance between us. The reason he couldn’t handle me being back in his life suddenly was mapped out in that sea of blue on blue. When Rowdy looked at me all he could see was the past and what he had suffered through then, the loss he had felt at my hands and the heartache he had been gifted by my sister. But for me, when I looked at him all I could see was the future and every promise and possibility that was wrapped up in the sexy, blond, and tattooed package that was grown-up Rowdy St. James. Some way, somehow, we had to start looking at the same thing if I was ever going to have a shot at showing him there was life after the one and life after loss, especially if the one was the wrong person for him all along and the loss was right in front of him wanting to make amends.

I was never the kind of guy to turn my back on a good time. It was rare anymore that the entire group of friends I had immersed myself in and now called my family were all able to get together at the same time on the same day. So when Jet called me on his last night in town before he flew out to listen to some band play in Portland and demanded that I show up at the Bar because everyone was going to be there, I couldn’t think of a reasonable or noncowardly excuse not to go.

It was getting harder and harder to avoid Salem without making it absolutely noticeable and now that Cora had witnessed my epic overreaction when Salem had been on the verge of mentioning her sister . . . well, there was just no escaping the endless questions and speculative looks coming from those two-tone eyes. I loved Cora something fierce, but I didn’t have any desire for her to start sticking her fingers into old wounds. Those suckers had long since scabbed over, and even if the scar tissue they left behind was ugly and gnarled, it was way better than the festering hurt and leaking heartache the actual memories had tied to them.

In an effort to prove not only to the girls but also to myself that I could play nice and that just seeing Salem in all her pretty, bronze beauty wasn’t going to drag me back to places I never wanted to go, I put my best FTW attitude on and went to the Bar. I figured I could do this for one night. I could fake my way through pretending like the very sight of her didn’t undo me from the inside. I just had to remind myself she was simply a stranger that I no longer knew. She was just a random and lovely Latin goddess covered in some of the prettiest, most detailed ink I had ever seen. I was a pro with the ladies and Salem was most assuredly all lady . I could be charming and slick. I could be engaging and friendly, and hopefully that would put her at ease and I would feel a little less like she was here in Denver to bring every terrible memory that haunted me to my front door.

I thought it was a rock-solid plan. I thought I was going to pull it all off with no trouble, but then I hit the entrance. The first thing my eyes landed on wasn’t Ayden trying to get Jet to two-step with her to “Family Tradition,” or Rule and Shaw whispering with heads bent close together, or Rome tugging his little pixie around the side of the bar to where I knew his office was back behind all the liquor storage, or Nash and his pretty Saint pretending to play a game of pool while they really just made out next to the felt-covered table. No, the first thing my traitorous gaze clapped on to was Salem’s unmistakable curves where they were propped up so enticingly when she leaned over the bar as Asa beckoned her closer.

Of course the first thing that slammed into my brain was the way her black-and-white skirt hugged her backside and hips as she leaned over on those crazy tall heels she liked to wear. Right on the tail end of that thought was the notion that Asa was probably getting one hell of a show if she had a low-cut top on, and for some reason that made my head feel like it was going to fucking implode. My back teeth clenched together and I literally saw a hot red haze when she tossed back her head and laughed at something the blond southerner said. Her dark hair swished across the curve of her ass and her husky laugh made something in my gut and below my belt get tight. Before I could think about what I was doing, I found myself walking toward the bar with hasty steps.