A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2) (14 page)

Something about the tension between them set off my mental alarm.

None of my business. I shifted left. The older woman beside me caught my eye and smiled wide. I smiled politely back, catching her predator gleam a second too late. She opened her mouth but the words were cut off.

“What’ll it be?” the unshaven bartender interrupted.

I handed over my card to start a tab and ordered two beers. The moment Scruffy sauntered off, the woman pounced. “Helen Meckelberg-Gresham, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

She held out a hand and I caught sight of a diamond the size of a ferret lying across her finger. “I’m Jordan DeWalter,” I said, taking her hand for no other reason than simple manners.

Behind me, the guy let out a harsh string of curses on his date before dropping his voice low again. I tensed, but then Helen’s reaction distracted me completely.

“DeWalter?” she said, her smile faltering before blinking back at me full-wattage. “As in the Windsor county DeWalters?”

Crap. I hadn’t meant to give my full name. “Yes,” I managed through tight lips.

“Well, I’ll be … I’ve known Sharon and John for years. She and I plan the Labor Day parade together.”

A sick feeling washed over me at her recognition. I’d known it was a small town but dammit. I hadn’t actually expected to be recognized so easily. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, cursing my mom and her insistence on polite etiquette. “They’re my grandparents.”

I sighed.

Helen’s head tilted sideways and she raised our still-joined hands, patting mine with her free one. “Relax. They don’t call me Helen Magellan for nothing, girl. Just because I know everything about everyone in this town, don’t mean anyone else does.”

I hesitated, unsure what to say to that. “Helen Magellan?” I finally repeated.

She threw her head back and laughed. I barely noticed the bartender set two bottles in front of me and scurry away. “They think I don’t know about my nickname.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Honey, I invented it.”

My mouth quirked. “People will always talk,” I said, repeating something my dad used to say.

Helen nodded sagely. “The trick is to tell them what to say,” she added as if that were the second half of the adage.

“You didn’t happen to … know my father, did you, Helen?” I asked.

“Roy?” Helen made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Of course. Everyone knew Roy. And Amelia. Separately, they were the golden children around here. Together … they were something of a force. We all knew they were meant to be.”

I was speechless at that. No one had ever talked about my parents that way. Then again, no one had ever talked about them period. We’d grown up cut off from anyone who might’ve known them back then.

“And Amelia’s parents, Bob and Carol, where are they living now?” Helen asked.

I smiled, softening at the memory of my Gran and Papa. “They lived in Wethersfield for years but they’ve both passed on now,” I told her.

Helen clucked her tongue. “Sorry to hear that. They were both such wonderful people. Very supportive of Roy’s military career.”

Behind me, an elbow landed hard against my back, and my smile fell. I did my best to ignore it and planted my feet to keep from getting jostled.

I leaned closer to Helen, desperate for more and at a loss where to begin. I wanted to steal Helen away, take her home and keep her until she’d told me everything there was to know about my parents. This woman was quickly turning out to be one of the most interesting people I’d met in a long time.

“So, my dad,” I began. “What sports or hobbies—”

“What the fuck, Jenny?” a male voice suddenly yelled. An arm brushed mine and I was jostled again.

I whirled, my temper finally breaking, and found the guy behind me red-faced and tense as he faced off with his date. The girl’s hair hid most of it but I could see her rounded eyes and darting glances as she looked back and forth between him and me.

“Dude, keep it friendly,” I said, more worried about the girl than anything.

The guy took a step toward me so fast, I backed up at his unexpected aggression. His eyes blazed, but even underneath their fury and his rigid jawline, it was easy to see this guy wasn’t friendly even on a good day.

“Mind your own fucking business,” he said in a low voice that sent off warning bells.

I shot a look at the girl and saw fear written all over her timid expression. She ducked her head, letting her bangs obscure her face again, but I’d seen enough. Something inside me strained against whatever was happening here.

“Your momma should have taught you to watch your mouth around the ladies,” I shot back. “No wonder your girlfriend looks so dissatisfied.”

My smirk was wiped clean away as the guy’s hand fell on my shoulder—hard—and he shoved. Off balance, I tumbled backward into Helen.

“Oh!” she gasped and we both almost went tumbling.

A hand caught my waist, managing to right me just before I went heels over ass. I straightened and found Casey standing beside me, his furious gaze trained on my attacker.

On my left, Helen was being righted again by another bar customer. Frank rushed over from the pool tables and steadied Helen. “I’ll find Bobby right now,” he said. He shot a glance at Casey and then me before disappearing into the crowd already gathering behind us.

“Wayne, you’re a piece of shit and that’s not new. But go be a piece of shit somewhere else,” Casey said. He took a step forward, angling himself in front of me, his hands fisted hard enough to raise the sinewy muscles along his forearm.

“This doesn’t involve you, Luck. Move on.” Wayne’s angry eyes glinted and I knew, despite his words, he’d rather Casey stay. And fight.

Hell.

I did not want my first night out in Grayson to involve a bar fight.

“Jenny, everything okay here?” Casey asked, ignoring Wayne.

Wayne growled, but Casey kept his eyes pinned on the girl—Jenny. I watched her again and this time when her gaze lifted, she held Casey’s without flinching. No fear. And the way he said her name … I looked back and forth between them, sensing a history there.

She mumbled a few words that were lost over the music and low roar of voices.

Scruffy the bartender wormed his way through the small group of onlookers and planted his feet between Casey and Wayne. “You two piss-ants better take it outside or I’m calling police and your parents, you got that?”

Summer appeared beside me just then and I looked over at her, brows wrinkled. “Parents?” I echoed on a half-laugh.

“Don’t knock it. Country boys ’round here do not like having their momma called on them any more than the law.” She stepped up to Casey and I caught sight of Ford doing the same to Wayne from the other side. “Come on,” Summer said to Casey but he didn’t budge.

Neither, did Wayne.

Jenny looked at her boyfriend and then back—at me.

“Wayne, let’s go, man. You’ve had a few,” Ford said. “I’ll drive you home.”

Wayne twisted away from him and glared at me. “I heard your name earlier, you know. I know exactly who you are, and you ain’t welcome in this town or the next.”

I watched in surprised silence. Talk about a warm welcome.

“I mean it, Wayne,” Scruffy yelled. “Git!”

“Listen to them, Wayne,” Casey warned, chest puffing up as he squared off with Wayne. Even from here, I could see a vein sticking out in his neck. Seeing him so worked up was the only thing keeping my own temper at bay. That and my utter confusion over this guy’s dislike for me. Even if he somehow knew the story and took my grandparent’s side, how did he know anything about me personally?

“You know me?” I asked, craning to see around Casey.

“No, I don’t, and I’d just as soon keep it that way.” His lip curled in disgust. My cheeks heated even though I had no reason to be embarrassed. I couldn’t remember ever being so rudely rejected before. And in public.

“Screw you,” I said but my words were drowned out by Casey.

He stalked forward, shoving the bartender aside, and pointed a finger into Wayne’s chest. “You have exactly three seconds to get the hell out,” Casey said. “I won’t tell you again.”

“Casey, come on,” I said, tugging on his sleeve. But it was like tugging on granite. He didn’t move. “He’s not worth it, let’s just go,” I said, pulling harder to no avail.

“Two seconds,” Casey said.

Wayne took a deep breath, hocked something up from deep in his throat, and spit it at Casey’s feet.

Someone in the crowd gathered behind me—I suspected Helen—gasped.

“Fuck you,” Wayne said and Casey’s fist reared back so fast, I never saw it move.

Apparently neither did Wayne. The punch landed and sent Wayne’s face sideways. He stumbled backward, barely missing taking Jenny down as his back hit the wall. She squeaked and jumped aside.

Casey stood stock still, his hands fisted, while he waited for Wayne to recover.

“That’s it! The cops are on their way,” the bartender shrieked.

Summer slid in front of Casey, leaning close to whisper something I didn’t catch, and Casey blinked, finally breaking free of whatever fight club spell he’d fallen under. He let himself be jerked back and caught my hand in his as Summer propelled us toward the door.

Ford stayed, still hovering near Wayne as Scruffy ranted about both boys being banned and not getting blood on his floor. Wayne’s hand came away from his nose and a spray of red covered his top lip.

“The beers,” I said, trying to turn back just before Summer ushered us outside. “I have a tab.”

“Frank will get it,” Summer said. “It’s time to go.”

The parking lot was starkly quiet compared to the chaos we’d left behind. Casey huffed as Summer led us toward her car. His hand held tight to mine but he didn’t look over. No one spoke.

By the time we’d reached Summer’s car, the silence was bugging me. I tried veering away and sitting up front but Casey tugged me into the backseat with him.

“Aren’t we waiting for Ford?” I asked as Summer cranked the engine and began backing out.

“He’ll catch a ride with Frank,” she said, but her tone was flat and her eyes flicked to Casey in the rearview.

I looked over at Casey beside me in the backseat. “What the hell just happened?” I demanded.

But Casey only pressed his lips together and stared out the window. Summer sighed. “Wayne’s not the nicest guy,” she said and Casey snorted. “In high school, he was always talking shit about someone. Usually girls. Casey and Wayne didn’t exactly get along.”

“And Jenny, his girlfriend?” I still didn’t understand why they were acting so strangely about the whole thing. Or why Wayne had already decided he hated me.

“They’ve been dating about two years off and on,” Summer said. Again, her gaze flicked to Casey but he didn’t look up. His hand tightened in mine and I wondered what the hell for. Suddenly, everything was suspicious.

“Did you guys go to school with her?” I asked.

“Yes,” Summer said.

“Did you date her or something?” I asked, whirling on Casey as pieces clicked and shifted in my mind.

“What?” Casey finally blinked over at me, his brows drawn as if deeply confused—or deeply offended. “Yeah, we did. So what?” he asked and it grated the way he cast it off.

I yanked my hand free of his. “Was that you defending her honor, then? Because she didn’t ask you to and I damn sure didn’t want my first memory of Grayson’s nightlife to be you—”

“Me what?” he yelled, cutting me off. He sat up straighter, taking up more space between us, and I slid away. “Acting like a redneck? Embarrassing you?” he demanded.

“Of course not! I was going to say using me to make someone jealous!” Only partly a lie.

“Jealous?” Casey shook his head and laughed bitterly before meeting my eyes again, his expression hard as stone. “Jenny might’ve been my first kiss but she won’t be my last.” Up front, Summer snorted, but Casey ignored her.

“We dated in sixth grade,” he went on. “Not since. The people in this town know what Wayne is, including Jenny, but she still goes back. It’s sad, but if she wants out of that, she’ll have to ask for help. I punched Wayne for talking shit to
you
, not Jenny. Dammit. I don’t want to make you jealous, Jordan, I want to make you happy. If you’d put aside your judgments of small towns for five minutes, you might see that.”

“I…” What could I say? He was right. My judgments were the exact thing keeping me from admitting that what he’d just said was actually the most romantic thing I’d ever heard.

But there was still one problem with all of it.

“You still haven’t answered my question. None of this explains what the hell actually happened back there. Wayne knew me.”

Casey studied me for a long moment and I almost crumbled under the disappointment he wore. I hated that I’d glossed over the nice things he’d just said, but I couldn’t respond. Not now. When I knew he and Summer were still keeping something from me.

I turned away from him and caught sight of Summer in the rearview. In the glow of the dash lights, I saw that her lips were pressed tightly together. I waited until she’d made the left that took us out of town toward home. I’d almost given up when she said, “Wayne was right. He probably didn’t know your face or you, but he knows your name.”