Neat (Becker Brothers, #2)(10)

It’d been the biggest betrayal to my little brother, who’d put Bailey above everything else — including his own dreams. Now, he was single for the first time in years, and just a half-a-year away from graduating high school with all the plans he thought he had thrown out the window.

“He’ll be alright,” I assured my mom, reaching over the table to squeeze her hand in mine. “He’s heartbroken, but he’ll bounce back. Just give him a little time.”

Mom nodded, squeezing my hand in return and smiling as much as she could. Mom was a beautiful woman — always had been — and even in that moment, with her eyes rimmed with dark circles and her face long, tired, and worn, she was stunning. I loved how much of her I saw in me when I looked in the mirror — same hazel eyes, same full-faced smile. Noah was a spitting image of Dad, and sometimes I envied that he got so much of him, but I was proud to take after the strong woman who had raised us — when Dad was here, and after he passed.

“So, how did it go with Mallory this week?” Noah asked me, kicking his feet up in the empty chair Michael usually sat in. “Seemed like you two were ten seconds away from ripping each other’s throats open in that tour run through on Monday.”

Mom’s face screwed up with worry, but she didn’t speak, just sipped on her tea while she waited for me to answer. Something told me she was just as concerned as my brothers and I were that I was training a Scooter — especially one with a reputation like Mallory’s.

Still, just the mention of her made my blood warm — and not in the way that my brother thought. From the moment she walked into my office that first day, I’d been fascinated by her. Hell, I’d been fascinated by her my entire life. But, that fascination was balanced out by my need to protect myself, by the fear that crept in every time I had a second to think and realized I could very likely be training the woman who would take the job I was rightfully owed in the end.

She infuriated me with her gum popping, her sarcastic remarks, her blasé attitude about being at the distillery — and yet, she still made my pulse race, made my hands ache with the desire to reach out and feel that silky, platinum blonde hair between my fingers.

“It was… fine,” I said, deciding that was the best word to describe it. “She definitely had an attitude the first day, but by the time she left, she was playing nice. She was in orientation the rest of the week. I saw her briefly yesterday, and took her around for her first shadow tour earlier today.” I shrugged. “It’s weird. It doesn’t seem like she wants to be there, but Mallory Scooter has never been one to do something she doesn’t want to do. So, I can’t really figure out why she’s all of a sudden starting a career at the place it seemed like she’d been avoiding her whole life.”

Jordan leaned back from his now-empty plate, his hand resting on his stomach now that he was up for his first breath of air since he started eating. “I saw her and her father checking out that empty shop at the edge of the Main Street shopping center on my way to the field today,” he said. “I wonder if that has something to do with it.”

“The spot where Rita’s dress store used to be?” Noah asked.

Jordan nodded, reaching for his whiskey. “That’s the one. They were walking around with Tracy from the real estate firm in town.”

I frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would she be buying a store when she just started this new job?”

“Maybe it’s Patrick who’s buying it, and she was just hanging out with him?” Mom suggested.

“I don’t know. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who would just hang out with her father willingly,” I mused, running my fingers over the stubble on my chin. “Anyway, I feel like she’s going to give me some trouble, but she’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Mom laughed bitterly. “Oh, I have more than a feeling she’s going to give you trouble. That whole family is just… just…” She shook her head, lips pursed together and face turning red. Mom was always a lady first, and I knew she was biting her tongue to keep from saying a whole string of curse words and other foul things about the Scooters.

Jordan reached over and squeezed her wrist, which brought her a new breath. She smiled, patting his hand and sipping her tea again without another word said.

“I’m sorry you have to work with her,” Noah offered, sipping on his own glass of whiskey on the rocks. “I wouldn’t be able to do it, work so closely with a Scooter. I get amped up enough when Patrick walks through the warehouse. I can’t even imagine if I had to train Malcolm or something.”

Malcolm was Mallory’s younger brother, and a giant pain in our entire family’s ass. Whereas most of the Scooter family held it together around us, playing nice and pretending like we all still got along after the death of my grandpa and Robert J. Scooter, Malcolm thrived in the drama. He loved to push our buttons — especially Noah’s.

He was one stupid remark away from having his nose broken, if he didn’t watch it.

“I agree,” Mom said, her face souring. My mother didn’t speak ill on anyone, but with the Scooters, even she had a grudge. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be upset if both you and your little brother got out of that distillery altogether.”

“We can’t do that, Mom,” Noah said gently, reaching over to squeeze her wrist. “Dad helped build that distillery, that brand… hell, this entire town. We’re honoring him by keeping the Becker name alive in this company’s history.”