The Buy-In (Graham Brothers #1)(32)

Collin is asking actual questions now, not just launching attacks. Harper and Chase are neutral positive. Now, we just need to get my grumpiest, most stubborn brother on board.

Speaking of the grump, James drops the bar on the padded floor by the weight bench and wipes the sweat off his brow. “Need me to take off some of that weight for you, Patty?”

He’s challenging me. But I love challenges.

“Nope. I’m fine. Deadlifts, no problem.” But when I lean over and try to pull the bar up, I can’t get it more than six inches off the ground. “Okay, maybe a little weight adjustment.”

With a satisfied grin, James quickly slides off everything but the smallest plate. “That should be better for you, little brother.”

If making fun of me smooths out his surliness, fine. It’s still a challenge to get through a set. Not that I’m going to admit it and feed James’s ridiculous ego.

As my muscles protest, I remind myself of the end goal of this workout. It’s twofold. I’d like to soften James up on the idea of Sheet Cake. That’s the big one.

The other one is a little more superficial. Though Lindy isn’t just into my looks, no woman turns down a good set of abs. This is about as far as I’ve gotten in terms of plans to win Lindy back.

Step one: Get my hot bod back.

Step two: Show off aforementioned hot bod by strategic losing of shirt. Repeat as necessary.

Step three: Show her I’ve changed.

Step four: Do whatever it takes to restore the sparkle in her eyes.

The first two steps are the easiest and probably the least instrumental in actually making a difference. I’ve hurt Lindy deeply, and with everything else she’s been through, I can understand her resistance to me, even after my apology.

Even in our gut-wrenching conversation, I swear I could feel the same tension, the same tug, the same pull between us there always was. And I’m clinging to that with all the strength I can muster.

“Any word from Thayden?” James asks.

I try not to look shocked he’s bringing up anything related to Dad buying Sheet Cake. “Yes. Despite being up to his eyeballs in paperwork, Thayden says the contract is solid. No take-backsies.”

When I video chatted with Thayden to explain what paperwork I was sending him and why, his face was priceless. His laughter probably could have been heard all the way in Sheet Cake. “I’m so glad I met your family,” he said, and I wasn’t sure whether to be more honored or insulted.

“I guess you’re done ignoring the fact Tank bought a town for your brewery?”

James practically growls as he shoves the plates back onto the bar and starts another aggressive set of deadlifts. “It’s kind of hard to ignore.”

“Don’t throw your back out, brother.”

“I’m fine,” he grunts.

“You seem fine.”

He drops the bar and puts his hands on his hips. His eyes narrow into judgy slits as he studies my face. I mirror his position, and we stare at each other like this for a few long minutes. It reminds me of the blink-off Tank and I had the day he told me about Sheet Cake. James has no clue exactly how much he’s like a grumpier version of our dad. And I’m not about to tell James this.

Not today, anyway. I’ll save it for a time when I really need to get under his skin.

“What was he thinking?” James asks, finally breaking the tension. He shakes his head. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around such a smart man making such a stupid decision.”

I can’t help but bristle, though I take a slow breath to keep my emotions in check.

Look at me! The picture of cool, calm, and restrained. Call me Ice. Not to be confused with any of the rappers—Ice Cube, Ice-T, or Vanilla Ice. Just Ice.

My voice is calm when I speak. “Dad was thinking about us, James. About family. He was thinking about creating a legacy and a future. I could see this as a valid option for Dark Horse.”

“Yeah? You think so?” James crosses his arms and lifts one eyebrow almost lazily. But there’s nothing lazy or low-key about the move. It’s intense and intentionally slow. Predatory. It makes my stomach twist, because I know this look, and it’s never the start of anything good.

Oh, boy. I stepped in it now.

James’s eyebrow goes up a minuscule amount. “Or is there perhaps some other reason you’re into this ridiculous plan?”

He can’t know about Lindy. He can’t. Dad wouldn’t have told him. Not after I begged him not to on the ride home. James doesn’t know.

And yet … James looks like he knows. His expression is a dead ringer for Dad’s look the time he found out I was the one who put itching powder in Collin’s underwear drawer and was trying to get me to confess.

But … it’s a bluff, right? Because James cannot possibly know.

He knows.

He can’t know!

He looks like he knows!

I ignore the way I’m starting to sweat in places that weren’t sweating even when I was lifting the bar. I won’t cave. I’m not going to break. James doesn’t know about Lindy. No one does. Only Tank, and I swore him to secrecy, at least for now.

A bead of sweat drips down the side of my nose, and I want nothing more than to brush it away. But if I move, I’m going to totally lose it. I’ll start giggling, and then James will know for sure I’m hiding something.