Mine to Steal (Mine to Love) (3 page)

“I’m not going anywhere and it’s too damn early.” I pin him with a serious stare. “I have a full day ahead and I’m waiting to hear from a potential client out of Chicago, so I can’t leave until then.”

“
C’mon, I’m sure they’ll send you an email or something if they can’t get you. You do have those newfangled devices there, don’t ya old man?”

I can’t help but laugh at
the joke he makes at my expense. He’s always been the carefree ‘baby’ in the family, and he’s always given me hell about my uptight nature.

“
And, I’m not talking about right now, I mean later. Besides, I need a drink and you need to get laid.”

“Jett
-”

“I’m kidding.
I
need to get laid.” He rephrases and wags his eyebrows in anticipation.

Leave it to my brother to
push me into a better mood. If nothing else, having him around should be entertaining. He loves to think of himself as a ladies’ man, but he mostly crashes and burns because he uses pick-up lines that were around when our parents were young. I’m sure those same lines sucked then, too, but I like to sit back and watch the fallout.

“Why don’t you see if
Hottie wants to join us?”

And there’s my cue.

You would think,
at his age, he would have stopped with the stupid nicknames he gives people, but not my brother. As a kid, he had a hard time memorizing things. Mom suggested that he rhyme names, places and things with other words or made some other association to make it easier to remember. I wonder if she regrets that piece of advice because he has yet to outgrow it. In fact, Jett has managed to butcher almost every name he’s encountered.

“Listen, if you’re going to work here with me, you have to abide by the same office policies as everyone else. So that means no dating the staff. I have a pretty good group here, and I don’t need the drama. Okay?”

“Shit, Trey! You would have been better off telling me she’s a lesbian or something. You’ve made her off limits, so of course that means I want the forbidden fruit.”

“Fine, she’s a lesbian. Move along.”

“Hell no, I saw
it in her eyes. She wants a ride on the Jett.”

“God, you’re an asshole. Do you ever listen to the crap that comes out of your mouth?” I laugh because he sounds like a tool. I know he’s been able to date a few girls, although I’ve never met any of them, so I can only assume how bright they were.

How in the hell am I related to this guy?

My brother is a smart guy, but at twenty-five, he tends to act more like an eighteen-year-old with a cons
tant hard-on.

When we were kids, our
three-year age gap gave me the advantage; I could kick his ass and did, pretty much every day. But as we got older, he caught up with me in height, and passed me in build. We never hung with the same people because he was younger. But even then, he didn’t censor the shit he said out loud. We couldn’t be more opposite in personality or appearance if we were adopted. He played basketball; I stuck with baseball. His brown hair turns almost blond in the sun, and he keeps it longer than my dark, cropped hair. He’s always been the loud one; Mom decided it was because he was the baby. I think it’s simply because he’s an ass. We’re easily matched in height at six-foot-two, but he looks like he could kick my ass. I guess most girls are into the brooding bachelor thing he has going on, but he’s got his damn mouth working against him.

“Hey, all I’m
sayin’ is she was out there, checkin’ me out. Can you blame her?” He throws his arms up to model himself, as if it makes the point for him.

“I’m only going to say this one more time, and I’m not kidding
. Jett, if you hook up with anyone from the office, I
will
fire you.”

He throws his hands up in concession
, and I wonder what I was thinking when I asked him to come out here and help me with the business. He’s had a few jobs since college, but none of them were his ‘thing,’ and now he’s going to be staying at my place. But I’m not too worried because if his record holds up, he’ll be out of Colorado by the end of the month.

“What time are you
gonna be done here?” he asks as he stands and walks to the door.

“Five,” I say,
keeping my eyes on the task in front of me.

“
Aight,” he answers, “Why don’t we go to the bar you were telling me about? Something Spirits?”

Hell no
. I try to determine if there’s any chance of running into Em or her friends there, but I doubt it. Besides, am I going to be a little bitch and avoid her forever? We live in the same town, I’m bound to run into her at some point.

“Yeah, sounds good. Lemme get you a key to my apartment.”

He lifts his finger in the air and shows me a key that is dangling from it. “Covered.”

“How did you - n
ever mind. I’ll see you at home.”

* * *

If there’s one thing I can say about Jett, it’s that he loves to party. I got back to my place an hour later than I expected, and he was chomping at the bit. I thought my brother was an adult, not some damn dog that needed to be fed, walked, and exercised. In the short time he was there, he managed to turn
my
place into
his
bachelor pad. I could only assume he drank all of my beer because bottles were strewn across my coffee table, along with opened bags of chips and dip he didn’t bother to put away.

Thankfully, I am able to get him to relax a bit before heading out. I don’t know anyone who goes to
Wired Spirits
before nine, so we grab some dinner, several drinks and time it so we can arrive after ten. Walking into the place, I can’t help but remember the first time I saw Em here. She was arguing with Ryan, though I didn’t know either one of them at the time. I don’t make it a habit of involving myself in other people’s problems, but something about her made all of it fly out the window.

“You think?” I hear Jett ask over the music.

“What?” I strain to hear what he’s saying over the blaring noise.

“I said, I think we should hang back here so we can see everything.”

I give him a nod and turn to the bartender to order a Boilermaker. She is a petite blonde, and she reminds me of Em, except for the small stud she has in her nose. That and the tat on her arm. Okay, so she looks nothing like Em, except she’s blond. She offers me a smile when she hands me the beer and whiskey shot, so I ask her about the band that’s playing.

“They’re from
somewhere in Texas, pretty good.” She smiles at me, and I swear my balls retreat into my body.

Holy, fucking
shit! Nails on a chalkboard.

Her voice is an
ear piercing shrill and makes every part of my body cringe, but I try to cover as she continues, “The lead singer’s voice isn’t the greatest, but they make up for it with their music.” I laugh at the ridiculousness of her comment. Is she really talking about someone else’s voice? A voice like that should come with a warning label -
look but don’t talk
. I drop the shot into the glass and chug it quickly before leaving a bill on the bar large enough to cover the drink, the tip and get me the hell away. I push Jett toward a bar table, far away from the talking chipmunk.

“That chick was fucking hot,”
Jett remarks, checking out the bartender and waving. She cocks her head to the side, clearly confused by my sudden departure.

“And then she speaks,” I say before taking a swig of my beer.

“With a body like that, I can wear earplugs,” he says, waving at the girl again, whose name I didn’t bother to get.

I shake my head and laugh because he has no idea
how bad it was. I know my brother well enough to know he has an eclectic type, but
that
is on no one’s list. Hell, there’s a reason she’s a bartender, I’m sure. Loud music every night, you don’t have to talk, all you have to do is nod and take orders.

“Yeah, I think she might be your type.” I pat him on the back and shove him in her direction.
“Get me another drink while you’re there.”

I turn back to check out the stage and wait for the band to start
the next song hoping maybe they can erase the grating sound of the woman’s voice from my memory. The drummer taps his sticks and the band joins in with an upbeat tempo song that most people seem to enjoy. There’s a woman standing next to a booth near the stage who turns in my direction, and I immediately recognize her as Emogen’s friend, Joss. I duck my head, hoping to avoid eye contact, but it appears I have no such luck. She waves at me, and I give a half-assed wave back. But I’m not that lucky. She’s with a few other girls, none of whom are Em, and says something to them before heading in my direction.

Shit
.

As she gets closer, I notice she’s cut her hai
r since the last time I saw her and it suits her. She’s wearing a shirt that displays her assets well and a pair of worn jeans. The look says she didn’t try too hard, which probably means she did.

“Trey Miller,” she says when she’s close enough for me to hear.
Her eyes scan over my body as she takes me in. For some reason, her blatant perusal of my threadbare jeans and black button down shirt is a turn on, but this is Em’s friend.

I bow my head in
greeting. “That would be me.” A grin spreads as I take her in and she returns it with her own. She probably thinks I don’t remember her, but in the brief times we met, she made an impression. “How ya doin,’ Joss?”

“Wow, impressive memory. You were so smitten with my bestie, I didn’t realize you knew my name.”

“Something tells me you don’t go unnoticed for long,” I wink playfully.

She fans her face, feigning flattery
but stops as her eyes scan the length of my body. “Too bad I’m taken, because I would be all over that.”

“Ah, too bad for both of us then, huh?”

She nods and then turns serious. Hell, guess I’m not going to get out of it.
I was so close.
“Em told me she stopped by to see you today.” She’s not expecting me to acknowledge this because we both know, so she continues. “For what it’s worth, I think it was pretty cool of you to do what you did. I know you were into her, but you gave her and Ryan the chance to work it out. I told her she can’t have it both ways, that she needs to give you space. I think she really heard you today, and maybe now she understands.”

Before I have a chance to respond, Jett comes walking back to the table bellowing, “And that’s how it’s done.” He slaps a napkin on the table in front of me with the name
Alissa scrawled on it and a phone number. Joss swipes the paper from the table and studies it for a moment before laughing.

“What the fuck?”
he yells as he tries to get the napkin back. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Joss almost doubles over in laughter when she reads the napkin
. “You can’t be serious!” She can barely catch her breath as she tries to explain. “You got a fake number from Squeakers over there? Shit, dude, that’s harsh.”

“What are you talking about?” Jett asks, looking at me, but I shake my head because I have no idea. I’m as confused as he is.

She wipes her eyes, making sure to not ruin her makeup, but she’s still chuckling. “That, my friend, is the number to the free clinic down the road.”

With wide eyes,
my mouth curls up to the side as I give her a
‘how would you know’
look, to which she shrugs and explains her outburst. “Hey, I get my share of losers.” She glances at Jett. “No offense. They buy me drinks and want my number, that’s the number I give them.” She finishes and hands the napkin back to Jett. I’m now laughing pretty hard, and he’s getting pissed off, which only spurs me on.

“Is
Alissa even her real name?” I ask, for no other reason than to rub salt in the wound.

“Do you really care to know?” Joss deadpans.
She’s right, I don’t care.

“That’s alright,” Jett announces, looking at the squeaky bartender. He throws his arm around Joss, trying to save
his non-existent reputation. “I wasn’t going to call anyway.”

I’m surprised Joss is playing along, but when she shoves his arm away, it causes me to laugh at him all over again. I could watch this happen all night. “So you give people the number to the free clinic? I wonder how many use it?”

“Judging the guys who hit on me, I’m sure at some point, they
all
use it.” She turns to her friends, who are staring at the three of us, and waves. “Hey, listen, it was good seeing you.” She looks me up and down. “I gotta get back over there. Damn shame, though,” she laments. “She totally should’ve hit that when she had the chance.”

I huff a laugh and raise my
chin at her assessment. It was never going to happen with Em. As quickly as Joss appeared, she disappears into the crowd, leaving me staring at her wake, and grateful for the comedic relief she afforded me.

“Who was that?” Jett asks,
leering at Joss and her friends who are pointing and laughing in our direction.