A Wild Ride Read online

  A stiff drink. That’s what he needed. Maybe a double, and keep them coming. Liquor easing down his throat until he was numb and the conversation he’d just had was nothing but a blurred memory. Perfect. He’d go get a bottle and finish it off…

  Except since he didn’t fucking drink, getting shit-faced oblivious was out of the bloody question.

  He could go find a fight. Dangerous and violent. Fists and pain and a whole lot of shouting voices, loud enough to drown out the roaring in his ears.

  Nicole Adams wanted babies.

  Oh, right, and a guy to go with them. A guy who was not Troy, so thanks very much for all the fun fucking around we’ve had, but I need to move on to some perfectly boring asshole with willing sperm.

  Suddenly Monopoly Man was so much more explainable. Jason must be considered a good donor candidate. Dude had a respectable job that paid well. Decent looking—heck, Troy wondered if Nic had done a genetic background check on the ass.

  He turned so sharply at the next corner tires squealed and rubber burned.

  To hell with going home yet. Mike was there with Tessa, and while there was no longer any reason to not join in for a threesome, he had zero desire to go that route. Not tonight.

  Tonight he wanted to burn off steam, and he wasn’t even sure he could put a name to exactly why he was so fucking pissed off. He’d known the relationship was short term. He’d goddamn known at some point she’d say she’d had enough, but…

  He jerked the wheel to the left and headed to his oldest brother’s place.

  Since he wasn’t going to drink, fight or fuck, he might as well annoy the hell out of his family. Dropping in on Clay and Maggie would distract him from his foul mood nicely. He needed some mothering tonight.

  He usually let his oldest brother do that.

  Amusement snuck past his brewing discontent as he knocked on their back door. It was barely after ten. Maybe he could sweet talk Maggie into letting him raid their fridge.

  Only, no one answered, not for the longest time. Troy was on the verge of walking in like he had at Nic’s when the door finally moved.

  Clay wore nothing but a pair of sweatpants, low on his hips, and his expression was far from welcoming.

  “Who’s dead?” his brother demanded.

  Troy considered. “No one.”

  “Anyone dying? Bleeding out?”

  “Nope.” Troy folded his arms over his chest. “You’re in a gory state of mind.”

  “Good night, Troy.”

  Clay pushed the door, and it swung toward Troy. He shot out a hand to stop it before it could close entirely. “Hey. What the hell?”

  His brother glared harder. “Go home.”

  “But I thought—”

  His words ground to a halt as he finally clued in. The yellow glow in the barely visible living room was caused by candlelight, and soft music played in the background. As tempting as it was to stand there and continue to annoy Clay, he liked Maggie too much to massacre the romantic evening he’d interrupted.

  He backed away. “Sorry. I’ll see you at the shop on Monday.”

  “Troy, wait.” Clay’s expression softened. “You okay?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve got shitty timing, but I’m not about to kick you to the curb if something’s wrong.”

  “I’m fine.” Troy waved a hand. “Get back to what you’re doing.”

  Clay didn’t bother to answer, just grinned as he closed the door and left Troy standing there.

  Another rush of gut-twisting emotion tangled through him. So. Not only was he cut off from sex, he was cut off and his big brother was scoring.

  Something was not right in the world.

  Ten minutes later it was clear Fate was truly enjoying herself and having a good hard laugh at his expense. He pulled into the driveway at Mitch and Anna’s, dimming his headlights as he eyeballed the living room, not wanting to interrupt another date night at home.

  There were no candles involved this time, at least. Troy jogged around the side of the house, jerking to a stop when he heard angry voices through the open living room window.

  “You’re not being logical,” Mitch snapped.

  “And you’re being a bossy bastard,” Anna retorted. “Like usual.”

  “You like it when I’m bossy. Besides, I’m right, and you damn well know it.”

  Troy backed away rapidly. He didn’t want to get in the middle of any fight, although he was disappointed to discover the two of them—

  Something crashed, followed by a loud thump, and warning bells went off like crazy. Screw not getting involved in his brother’s affairs. Something was wrong. Troy ran toward the window…

  For fuck’s sake.

  Whatever they’d been arguing about was either forgotten or some screwed-up version of foreplay. Mitch had Anna up against the wall, and the two of them were kissing like fiends, clothes falling away in the split second before Troy turned his back and escaped.

  He wasn’t even going to attempt his little sister’s place, because if Katy wasn’t making out with Gage, they’d be up with his year-old nephew, Tanner. He loved the kid, but no way in hell he was going anywhere near a rugrat tonight.

  He hesitated before heading to Len and Janey’s then decided to take the risk. By now his inexplicable anger had cooled, but he was still hoping for a dose of family.

  A slow drive past their backyard kept his tires rolling. His middle brother sat by the fire pit in their backyard, Janey in his lap, the two of them cuddled up and kissing.

  Was everyone in the frickin’ world fooling around tonight except him?

  Troy drove to the Thompson and Sons garage. He pulled on a coverall and headed to the first job lined up for the following morning. He wasn’t scheduled to work until Monday—Clay and Mitch were covering the weekend—but he might as well do something productive while he stewed.

  He was lying on a mechanics creeper, slipping under the car to access the oil pan, when the lights by the far wall clicked on.

  “Who’s there?” a deep, masculine voice demanded.

  Troy rolled out and sat up to spot his dad stepping cautiously down the stairs.

  “Over here. It’s—” He swore and dropped behind the hood of the car as his dad swung a shotgun toward him. “Jesus, Dad, put that damn thing away,” he shouted. “It’s Troy.”

  Keith Thompson muttered under his breath, then stomped across the floor to the nearest workbench, laying the shotgun on the surface. “Damn fool. What’re you doing here so late, sneaking around in the dark?”

  “An oil change,” Troy snapped.

  “You can’t find anything better to do at this hour?” his dad demanded.

  “No.” He was too pissed off to even attempt an excuse. “What the hell is wrong with you? Pulling a gun on me. You could hurt someone with that shit.”

  Keith gazed at him for a moment before his face twitched. “That’s kind of the idea of a shotgun, you know. To shoot things.”

  “Don’t fucking joke about this. Even if we have a freaking break-in, don’t you ever bring a gun in here again.” Troy stared his father down from a good extra four inches of height. “Let them steal everything in the goddamn shop if they want.”

  His dad straightened, anger rising in his eyes. “Watch your language and don’t boss me around.”

  “Well, someone has to, since you’ve obviously taken leave of your senses.”

  “Of all my children, you’re the last one who gets to lecture me. You’re still wet behind the ears.” His dad turned his back and stomped away, shouting over his shoulder. “Want a drink?”

  As if Keith hadn’t just threatened to shoot Troy then insulted him on top of it.

  Troy dragged a hand through his hair and counted to ten. “No thanks,” he gritted through his teeth.

  Keith disappeared into the staff area, but he was back a moment later, popping the top on a beer then offering it to Troy.

  Troy shook his head. “No.”

  His dad shrugged then took a dri
nk, leaning back on the nearest bench, making himself comfortable. “Still don’t know what you’re doing here.”

  Since Troy didn’t know himself, it wasn’t as if he had a ready answer. “Just needed to burn off some energy.”

  Keith chuckled. “You usually think of a better way to work it off than fighting with dirty oil pans. Getting into trouble, breaking hearts and all that.”

  Troy stared firmly at the tool chest in front of him and worked to keep a positive mind-set instead of snapping back at his father. “Yeah, well, not tonight.”

  “You coming down with something?” his dad asked, concern staining his voice. “Never known you to pick work over play.”

  Fuck it all. Troy knew he shouldn’t ask. Knew it the instant the words hit his tongue, but it seemed tonight he was a glutton for punishment.

  “What’re you saying? That I’m a slacker?”

  “’Course not. I mean, not really. You’re young, having fun, sowing oats. The usual. You always have a good time. It’s what you do.”

  And…that quickly, he’d had enough. Troy didn’t think he could keep a civil tongue in his head for much longer. “Gotta go. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  He peeled off his overalls and tossed them over the nearest horizontal surface he could find before striding for the door. The fists he held clenched by his sides were shaking, he was so upset.

  Pissed off again, but at least this time he knew why. What was that, three times in one night? Seems he was going for a new record.

  Behind him, his dad laughed softly. “Always jumping from one thing to the next. Stay out of trouble, son. We’ll see you ’round.”

  Troy slammed the truck door and fought to even his breathing. He would not race out of the lot like a speed demon and give his father a chance to mock him on Monday.

  Then again, maybe Keith wouldn’t even notice, like he’d never fucking noticed that Troy didn’t drink. Not ever.

  There were an awful lot of other things his father, and his siblings, had never noticed, because that was how Troy had wanted it, but tonight for some reason the secrets he was holding, and his lack of connection to them all burned.

  He loved them. His family was his fucking everything, but sometimes he wanted to take the lot of them, sit them down, and make them open their bloody eyes and see.

  And yet…them knowing his secrets was the exact opposite of what he’d always worked for, and the dilemma just made his blood boil and his brain ache.

  What a shitty day.

  “Can I get a favour?”

  Nicole blinked as she changed her focus from the computer screen to the office receptionist. “What’s up?”

  “I know Mondays you usually take a late lunch, but can you go now then mind the desk while I’m gone?” Kerry asked. “I have to head out, and I need someone to deal with drop-ins.”

  Nicole glanced at her watch. A change of timing was no big deal. She saved her project then grabbed her purse. “Sure. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

  “Don’t rush.” Kerry pointed toward the partners who stood in a group by the coffee machine. “They’re heading into a meeting for the next hour, and I can’t leave until they’re done.”

  Nicole glanced over, and Jason caught her eye. He offered a smile, but he hadn’t done more than simply say hello that morning. He must’ve been just as impressed with their Friday evening as she was.

  She headed outdoors, thinking hard about the wisdom of dating someone where she worked. Not that she was jumping up and down to spend more time with the man. He was nice enough, she supposed, but there hadn’t been any sparks.

  That’s because Troy burned through all the kindling, her brain taunted.

  Nicole pushed through the doors of the café, telling her brain to kindly shut up.

  The place was a madhouse. This was why she didn’t usually go for lunch at five minutes after twelve. There didn’t seem to be an empty chair anywhere. Nicole rotated slowly, debating if she should give up and settle for the granola bar she kept in her desk.

  Her gaze met a pair of cool blue eyes and a welcoming smile set in a somewhat familiar face. The blonde patted the back of the empty seat next to her where she was tucked in the corner at a small table.

  Nicole made her way across the floor, scrambling through her memories. The woman was familiar, but her name hovered on the tip of Nicole’s tongue. They must have gone to school together, but the blonde had to be at least a few years younger, so they wouldn’t have shared any classes.

  Recall of the woman’s name and particulars arrived the moment Nicole reached the table, and there was no time to abandon ship without being really rude.

  Her mystery woman had risen to her feet and was holding out a hand in welcome. “Laurel Sitko,” she offered as a reminder. “The place is packed, but I don’t mind if you join me.”

  It wasn’t who she’d expected to share a meal with, but Nicole supposed she was safe enough. It’s not as if the pastor’s daughter was going to haul her over to the dark side in a mere thirty minutes.

  “Where did all these people come from?” Nicole settled in the chair beside Laurel’s.

  “Tour bus? I’m not sure.” Laurel wrinkled her nose as she gazed around the room. “I thought I knew everybody in Rocky, but I’ve been gone for three years. It’s possible some of them live here now.”

  “Easy enough to tell,” Nicole grumbled. “Is there anyone under the age of forty, male, and moderately attractive? If so, they have to be visiting.”

  Laurel laughed, a bright, light sound that brought smiles to the people at the tables next to them. Nicole found her lips twitching involuntarily as well.

  Then Laurel leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for Nicole to hear, “We need to set up the modern equivalent of mail-order brides, only with sexy, eligible bachelors. They don’t even need to have jobs, as long as they’re very good with their hands.”

  Nicole attempted to swallow the mouthful she’d just sipped from her water glass, but it was no use. Moisture dribbled down her chin, and she wiped at her face and choked for air as Laurel patted her soothingly on the shoulder.

  When she could finally breathe, she gave Laurel a far more thorough once-over. “Am I mixed up?” she asked. “Am I confusing you with someone else?”

  Laurel’s eyes sparkled. “Excuse me?”

  “Pastor’s daughter? Class valedictorian?”

  “Don’t forget the new label. Librarian technician.” The young woman nodded. “None of which are required to have stick in the mud in the definition the last time I checked, in case that’s what you were thinking.”

  She was a smart cookie. Nicole’s smile widened. “Good to know.”

  One of the harried café waitresses scurried up, took their orders then vanished in a whirlwind. Nicole glanced around, more for a chance to think than because she was curious about the customers in the cafe.

  Laurel was younger than her, and definitely not a part of the crowd Nicole was used to hanging out with. Yet, considering all the changes she had planned, making a new friend who was a little less the wild party animal was probably a good thing.

  She turned back to her seatmate. “Librarian?”

  “Technician,” Laurel emphasized. “I’ve only completed two years so far, but it’s enough to qualify for a practicum position.”

  “You’ll be around for the summer?”

  “Longer than that, depending on what happens at the library.”

  Nicole nodded. “Are you living back at home?”

  Laurel shuddered before looking sheepish. “Definitely not. I found a one-bedroom to rent. I wanted to come back to Rocky, but that doesn’t mean I want to go back to being under my parents’ roof.”

  “I hear you.” Nicole patted Laurel sympathetically on the hand. “I felt the same way last year when I finished school. All my family is here, and I think I want to stay, but I’m not twelve anymore.”

  “Tell me it gets easier,” Laurel begged earnestly. “I’m s
till getting the you know your old bedroom is open suggestion every time I visit them, and I’m ready to scream.”

  “Just think how much you’d save if you lived at home,” Nicole deadpanned. “You don’t need to deal with all that yard work. Are you stopping by for dinner tonight?”

  Laurel groaned, hanging her head in her hands.

  Nicole laughed softly. “Buck up. I guess that means they love us.”

  The other woman nodded, a wistful expression in her eyes. “They could love us from a distance, couldn’t they? That would be far more convenient.”

  They exchanged another laugh before the conversation dove off into books they liked, and music, and by the time their meals were just about done, Nicole was pretty sure she’d found a new BFF.

  It was a little shocking to discover since Laurel was one of the last people she would’ve imagined to have been a kindred spirit.

  “Nic, baby. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  Nicole glanced up to discover one of her guy friends standing over the table, another man at his side. “Glenn. Hey, it’s been a long time.”

  “Ages. At least a month or two.” He offered a wink before tilting his head to indicate his buddy. “Meet Darrell. Cousin of mine. He’s thinking about moving to Rocky.”

  Miracles would never cease. Under the age of forty, male, and moderately attractive. Maybe Laurel was giving off heavenly vibes and prayers were being answered.

  “Nice to meet you,” Nicole said with complete honesty.

  Darrell nodded, meeting her eyes for just a moment before glancing away.

  Shy, or extremely shy, one of the two.

  Glenn more than made up for his cousin. “He’s an accountant. Business stuff, kind of like you, only he works for himself.”

  Nicole tried to catch Darrell’s gaze. “That’s great.”

  “Yeah, he’s obsessive about numbers. Fits him to a T.” Glenn elbowed his cousin in the side. “Anyway, there’s a party happening Friday night at the Blackstones’. Wondered if you’re going.”

  Maybe Nicole should take it as a good sign that she hadn’t even known about the house party. Maybe she was already becoming grownup, responsible and respectable.

  Boring. Boring and no sex, her brain shouted.