All That Matters (4 page)

“What the fuck was that all about?” Josh demanded.

“Drop it,” Meg replied. “You've pushed your luck enough today.” She didn't think that he was going to listen, but he did, and he took the boys upstairs, probably to play the video games Monroe had just brought. It was good because it let her remember to breathe.

She headed to the kitchen to see what she could manage to throw together for dinner. They were running low. They were lower than usual because of the money that she'd had to give Train. She'd shopped for basics only. This week she'd do a proper shopping, and maybe the week after that she could get the cable turned back on.

Chapter Three

The sky was pissing down a mix of rain and ice, which covered the ground with a layer of slush. The temperature kept dropping; it was starting to freeze and had turned what should have been a fifteen-minute ride into a forty-minute one. Train gritted his teeth together and concentrated on keeping the pickup on the road.

His phone rang, and he reached for it. “Hello.” He flipped it onto speaker and dropped the phone onto the passenger seat. One of the few advantages of driving the truck was the ability to go hands-free.

“Hey, Train. It's Caroline. Look, I forgot to send out the new assignments by email. I'm going to do it once I get the chocolate chip cookie muffins out of the oven. You want to drop by for one, and I'll give you yours in person? There's something I want to talk to you about, anyway.”

“You okay?” Train asked. Something had been off about her lately; he wasn't sure what.

“I'm fine. I just want to talk to you. Is that a problem?” There was a sharp edge of annoyance to her voice.

“Give me like ten minutes. The roads are horrible right now.” Train ended the call without another word, took the next turn. Somehow he cut the ten minutes down to five without wrapping the truck around a tree or running another car off of the road.

Caroline's bakery, Sugar Sugar, was located in what used to be a print shop. It was a large building with a small apartment upstairs and a full basement. She'd turned the apartment into the office for Nightshade Construction and added four small tables for people to eat at. So far, business had been slow, but that was no surprise.

She appeared out of the kitchen when the bell over the front door jingled. “Hey, that was quick. You want coffee?”

“You got any hot cocoa?” Train replied. He studied her appearance carefully. Her hair was up in a tight bun, but pieces were escaping from it. There were circles under her eyes; they were faint, but they were as clear as her flushed cheeks, although the flush could be from the heat of the kitchen.

“I think I can manage to make some. How's everything going with you?” She moved back into the kitchen, and he followed her.

“Same shit, different day. You know how it is. What's going on with you? You said you wanted to talk, that you had something to tell me.”

“I didn't say that I had something to tell you. I said I wanted to talk to you.”

“You're a shitty liar.” Buster wasn't going to beat around the bush with her about this. He was cold and tired from the rushed day he'd put in at the job site in order to get the roof on before the storm. “So, can we skip the part where we dance around whatever it is you're so torn about telling.”

“It's really not something to tell. It's more like a favor that I need to ask. Meg Castle lives on your block, right?”

“Right.” Train said slowly as he tried to figure out where this was going. “What's that got to do with a favor for you?”

Caroline turned to one of the ovens as a timer went off. “The muffins are done. Do you want one with your cocoa? I'll send a couple home with you, too. Oh, and I'm going to make double chocolate chunk cookies.”

“Are you trying to soften me up with baked goods?” Train wasn't offended if she was. Actually, he wondered if he could convince her to make another batch of her special brownies, too.

“Maybe,” she replied.

“What's your favor, Caroline?” Train watched as she took the still-steaming muffins out of the oven. His stomach rumbled with hunger, reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything since the bacon and egg sandwich he'd bought at a gas station.

“I'm worried about her. Josh is getting really unpredictable. It'd be great if you can keep an eye and ear out, just in case.”

“Why are you poking your nose in, Caroline? What happens between her and her old man should be between them,” Train replied.

“Old man?” Caroline frowned. “Josh isn't her old man, Train. He's her brother.”

“Isn't he the kids' father?” Train asked.

“Yes. The boys are her nephews, not her sons. She takes care of them because their mother is gone, and Josh isn't fit to take care of a hermit crab. She's your neighbor, how did you not know that?” Caroline chided.

“How was I supposed to know that? Sounded like he was her old man from what she said.” Train tried to think back and recall the exact words that had led him to the assumption, but he couldn't. All he could suddenly see was the curve of Meg's hips and the way that her tits filled out whatever shirt she happened to be wearing.

“Well, he's not. So will you please keep a lookout? Please.”

Train realized that he still had no clue how she knew Meg or why keeping an eye on her was so important. “Alright, I'll keep an ear out. How do you know her, anyway?”

“Monroe brings her and the boys in. They like my cookies almost more than you do,” Caroline replied as she placed a warm muffin on a plate. “Take this and sit down. I'll bring your cocoa in one minute. Go on. Go. Out of my kitchen.”

The muffin was spectacular. Train ate every bite of it and had a tall steaming mug of cocoa topped with whipped cream Caroline told him she'd made by hand. She'd even put some chocolate shavings on top of the cream. He was full and a little bit sleepy when she came back out of the back with two cake boxes tied with pretty red and white string bows.

“Okay. This one is yours.” She set the box down on the empty table next to them. “And would you mind dropping this one off for Meg and the boys?” There was something in her smile that Train didn't like, but he couldn't figure out why. Still, it wouldn't be such a bad thing to stop by Meg's, get another look at her ass, now that he knew it wasn't the ass of a taken woman. “And try to be nice when you're there.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“It means you can be an asshole sometimes, Train,” Caroline replied. “I love you, but it's the truth. And since Meg doesn't know you that well yet, it might make her feel as if you don't like her. Oh, I should put some cocoa in a container for the boys. Maybe you can have some with them. Meg's pretty, isn't she?”

“You're about as subtle as a brick, Caroline. If you're trying to set me up with Meg, don't.” Train felt no amusement over Caroline trying to set him up. He really liked her, but the last thing he needed was her attempting to play matchmaker.

“Why not?” she demanded. “She's pretty and sweet. She's a catch.”

“I'm not looking for a fix-up or a relationship, but if you want me to fuck her, I can do that. Have you seen her ass? If you're looking to get her with someone, you'll be better off calling Monroe to come and get the box.” Train got to his feet, annoyed that he hadn't seen through what she was trying to do earlier.

“I'm not trying for a setup. I'm just...” she trailed off with a smile. “She's really sweet.”

“And I'm a mean, nasty bastard, Caroline. Don't forget that.” Train got to his feet, walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Don't worry, though, I like you.”

“Make sure that you drop them off. Don't just keep the box and eat everything.”

Train chuckled because that thought had crossed his mind. “Guess I'll just have to come back for more tomorrow.” Caroline followed him to the door, and he waved to her once he was in the truck. The rain had slowed down; now it was more of an annoying spray than anything else. The roads still sucked, and by the time that he got to his street all he wanted was a hot shower and a cold drink.

He brought the truck to a stop in front of Meg's house, grabbed the box and hurried to the front door because it seemed as if the rain had chosen that exact instant to start coming down harder. He should have just honked the horn and, if no one came out, gone on home, but he figured that Caroline would have bitched about that.

It took a minute for someone to answer his knock. Train hadn't expected to see a man at the other side of the door. From the resemblance to the boys he had to assume that it was Josh. “Meg here?” Train asked without any pleasantries.

“You're here for Meg and bringing her food?” The man smirked as he looked down at the bakery box.“Just a word to the wise, you might not want to ply her with too many sweets. She tends towards the hefty side, if you know what I mean.” He puffed out his cheeks to prove his point. Obviously, he thought that he was hysterical, because he couldn't stop laughing.

Train didn't see the humor. “You her brother?” There was no doubt in his mind that he was, and that Josh was a first-class prick.

“That's me. I'm Josh. Didn't catch your name.” He scratched his hands over his exposed arm. Train spotted telltale track marks in the crease of Josh's elbow, and while he had no problem with people getting high, he did have a problem with people who let the drugs do them.

“Didn't give it. Meg here?” he repeated. If he had to ask again, he was definitely going to be the asshole that Caroline warned him not to be. He might just be anyway, because Josh was obviously begging for a punch right to the throat.

“She's back in the kitchen. MEG!” He turned over his shoulder and crowed. “You've got a gentleman caller. He brought food. He knows you pretty well.”

Train heard the sound of footsteps and saw Meg appear down the hall. Her face was a shade of red; he couldn't tell if it meant she was embarrassed or furious. He would have put money on both if he were a betting man. “Hi Train. Caroline said you were going to drop by.”

“She sent cookies or something for you and the boys,” he explained.

“Come on in. Josh, let him in.”

“This your new guy, Meg? What about the pig? Or did he get tired of you already?” Josh's smile never faltered. If anything it got wider. Train realized his first instinct was right, Josh was a prick who needed a fist to the throat.

“Monroe isn't a cop anymore, Josh. He's just my friend.” Meg stepped forward. “Thanks for bringing them over. I appreciate it. Do you want some?” Her face flamed red again as Josh began to laugh.

“I've got my own box in the truck,” Train looked over at Josh, and the man stopped laughing. It was only then that he realized Josh was high, really high. “Can I talk to you alone for a second, Meg?” He kept his eyes on Josh, hoped that he would laugh again because if he did, Train wasn't going to just stand there.

“Sure. The boys are doing their homework in the kitchen, so we could go upstairs.” Meg was looking at Josh as well. Train didn't know her, he had no clue what the look meant, but it flashed him back to something which had happened years ago, a time that he did not allow himself to think of. Train realized he'd brought his hand up to his chest, to the scar there. Fuck. “Train?” She had her attention on him now.

Train lowered his hand from his chest, pushed the door to the past shut. “Yeah, that works.” He motioned for her to go first. Josh had wandered off. He was staring at a picture, it looked like a family one, displayed on the wall, lost in the high that meant more to him than anything else. Train doubted the man even heard them go upstairs. She led them down the hall to what must have been her bedroom.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you let him talk to you like that?” Train asked. While he waited for her response, he looked around. It was a decent-sized room with mismatched furniture and a bed with no headboard. There were fluttery lace curtains on the window and a comforter of all different colors on the bed.

“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you talking to me like that? Fuck you. My family is my business, not yours.” It was the first time that he'd heard her with attitude in her tone. He liked the sound of it, the way that it made her eyes come alive.