Good Girls Don't

“Oh, I will,” she said, sneaking another peek at his gun.

Jamie cleared his throat, and Tessa shot him a look of wide-eyed innocence. It had never failed her before. “I’ll go update Eric,” she said cheerfully, leaving the flirting for later when her brothers weren’t around and things weren’t so chaotic.

Hopefully this would all blow over soon, and then she’d give Detective Luke Asher a friendly citizen’s call.

“WHAT THE HELL do you think you’re doing?”

Luke blinked in surprise at the anger in Jamie’s voice. “Excuse me?”

“I know you, man, and I saw the look you were giving my sister.”

“I wasn’t looking at your sister at all.” He didn’t flush at the utter falsehood, because he knew he wasn’t going to date Tessa Donovan. It had only been a bit of harmless admiration. Her T-shirt had been tight in all the right places.

“I know how you are with women,” Jamie growled.

“I’m not any way with women, Jamie. Whatever I got up to in college, I left in college.”

Jamie set down his rag and crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed. “I’m not just talking about college.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Luke snapped, earning a glare from Jamie.

“I’ve got no problem with you, Luke, but I heard about your divorce. You’re not the kind of guy I want dating my younger sister.”

Luke’s shoulders snapped so quickly into solid tension that pain shot down his spine. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I may never have met your ex-wife, but she has lots of friends still in Boulder. People come to a bar to talk, and I’ve heard enough to warn you to steer clear of Tessa.”

They glared at each other for a long moment. “Plus,” Jamie added, “there’s the little issue of your—” Voices from the back room alerted them that the other Donovans were about to join them.

Luke cracked his neck. “She’s not my type. Let’s just leave it at that, all right?”

“Good enough,” Jamie muttered.

Luke wanted to defend himself. Hell, he wanted to go on the offensive and punch his old friend in the face, but he was too busy reeling, so he just turned and left.

He’d been aware that people must have talked about his divorce, but he and his wife had been living in L.A. at the time. He’d hoped the worst parts of it had been lost in translation. But clearly some of the details had crossed state lines.

Not that it mattered. Tessa Donovan’s smile was wide and pretty, but the girl was as fresh and new as a wildflower. And Luke … Luke felt bruised and broken already at thirty-one. No, Jamie didn’t have to worry about his sister. Luke wasn’t going anywhere near her.

CHAPTER THREE

TESSA HAD PLANNED to sneak into Eric’s office and search for Roland Kendall’s mobile number, but Eric kept hanging around. The only number she’d been able to nab was Detective Asher’s. Taking that as a sign, she slipped his card into her pocket just as Eric came back in.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

“I’m fine!” she answered too loudly. “Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

Eric gave his head a puzzled shake as he collapsed into his chair. “It’s not every day that we’re robbed.”

“Right. Yes. The robbery. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse, I guess.”

Eric ran both hands over his face. “Well, I’m exhausted, even though I haven’t gotten a damn thing done today.” He squinted at her past his fingers. “You look like crap yourself. Why don’t you head home?”

Leave it to a brother to boost a girl’s spirit. She had a brief fear that Luke Asher had only checked her out because he’d been worried about her health. But surely her breasts looked okay despite the pale worry on her skin.

“Go,” Eric said.

“What about you?”

“I’m going to stay to help Jamie close down tonight.”

“Eric, it wasn’t his fault.”

“I didn’t say it was.” The flat tone of his voice belied the words.

She felt Jamie’s presence at her back before he spoke. “You didn’t have to say it,” he growled. “We all know exactly what you’re thinking.”

Eric sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I know you think I’m an eternal screwup, Eric, but there’s no question I set the alarm. Even you can’t argue with that.”

“No, but somebody turned it off.”

“And?”

“And you’re the one who hires the extra bartenders around here. We both know their qualifications rarely extend beyond ‘guys you once partied with.’”

“Fuck you, Eric. That’s not true. I hire guys who are good with the customers.”

“And not so good with showing up on time or coming in when they’re supposed to work.”

Tessa held up her hands to try to stop the violent tension spinning through the room. “Guys, just—”

“You’re a real asshole,” Jamie snapped. “Besides us, the only people who have the alarm code are Wallace and the guys who’ve closed down the front room, and they’ve all worked here for at least three years. Some of the temp help I’ve brought in might not have been ideal, but they only ever work fill-in.”

Eric shrugged, his mouth still tight with disdain.

“I’d like to see you try to run the front,” Jamie said. “It requires personality. Ever heard of it?”

“Stop!” Tessa ordered. “Just stop. Everybody’s tense. So—” Before she could finish, Jamie walked out. Tessa almost stopped him. Her instinct was to calm things down. Make them both apologize. But she didn’t have the energy, not with all that hung over their heads. So instead of picking up the threads of her family and trying to weave them back together as she always did, Tessa let them hang there and walked away.

She was tired, as Eric had so kindly pointed out. Tired of playing the peacekeeper. Tired of trying to fix things. But it didn’t matter if she was tired. She couldn’t imagine how exhausted Eric must have been those first few years, when he’d taken on two teenagers and the brewery. He’d done his part to keep the family together; Tessa could do her part, too.

But she was starting to worry that she didn’t know how to fix this mess. Jamie might not have screwed up the alarm, but he’d done something far worse. The chances that the High West deal would go through … she knew they were low. Really low. But she couldn’t give up hope. Not yet.

She waved a listless goodbye to Jamie just as the first group of office workers walked into the bar, relief hanging around them like a cloud. Their workday was over. It was almost over for Tessa, too. Almost.

She pulled the ponytail holder from her hair and shook out as much tension as she could. The drive to the High West office would take nearly an hour with the traffic. Roland Kendall almost certainly wouldn’t be there, but she had to try.