Page 15 of Between the Stars

Speaking of boys, do you see that guy shaking snow from his hair and running a hand over his beard? That’s Abbi’s older brother, Rhett. You met him the other night, and are probably aware he’s my best friend these days, but he doesn’t know I’m in love with his sister. In fact, I think I told you this before he warned me to stay away from her. Actually punched me in the face for kissing her and said, “Keep your tongue out of my sister.”

I did, for the most part. Until I didn’t. And I never told him about it. Neither did Abbi.

“Where’s Barron?” Rhett asks, his boots squeaking on the concrete floor.

I motion over his shoulder toward the office. “Somewhere in there. I saw Camdyn running through a minute ago.”

He nods and unzips his jacket.

“You look tired,” I note, sipping on my coffee. The cup burns my hand, but it’s worth it considering the heat still hasn’t kicked up all the way. The shop doors open again and in walks Granger, his boots making the same sounds as he enters.

“Helpin’ out my pops is taken a toll on me.” Rhett’s gaze lifts to mine. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep bailin’ his ass out.”

Rhett and Abbi’s dad, Kurtis, his father, and his grandfather, they come from a long line of plumbers and a family business much like the Grady family. Only Kurtis has a tendency to borrow too much and not have the means to pay it back. Which is where Rhett is constantly having to help his dad out. Have you heard that saying rob Peter to pay Paul?

Pretty sure Kurtis lives by those words, yet he has the nerve to say I’m not good enough for Abbi? Bullshit if you ask me, but whether I want to admit it or not, his aversion to me is just as much my excuse as it is his. I haven’t borrowed a penny from anyone in my life. And never will. If I don’t have it, I don’t spend it. Rhett thinks the same way, but he always feels obligated to help family out.

Rhett’s focus shifts to the office where we can see Kacy with the kids. Still no sign of Barron. He shakes his head, smiling. “How much ya wanna bet he fucks her before the week’s out?”

Granger reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a twenty. “I’m in on that. I say by Thursday.”

I eye the office and Kacy’s bubbly smile. “I say he’s already bagged her.”

Rhett makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “Fifty says he hasn’t, but he does by Friday.”

We all throw our money into an old milk jug and go about our day. These bets, they happen almost daily. We bet on everything from which cow we might find milling around the shop on any given day to how many times in a day Sev will set something on fire. I make a couple hundred bucks a month off that one. Unfortunately, I’ve been set on fire by her before. It ain’t pretty. The kid is constantly trying to put spells on people, and believe it or not, can operate a lighter a little too well.

The guys and I get to work and it’s hours before Barron comes out of the office. I’m knee deep in changing oil on a backhoe that decides I need a bath in it. Probably because I didn’t wait for it to cool down. I got in a hurry and now I’m pretty sure I have oil burns over my entire body. Not to mention I’m in a desperate need of a shower.

It’s after the oil incident when I make my way over to Barron in the corner next to Kacy’s car. “Why does Camdyn have lipstick all over her face?” I found her in the bathroom while I was trying to clean up, standing on the counter, drawing on her lips like she was getting ready for a runway model gig and smiling ear to ear.

Barron’s kids, they’re like the shop mascots. While Camdyn’s now in kindergarten, Sev spends her entire day here. Not exactly a place you want to be raising kids, but he makes it through the day. His wife left him when Sev was only a couple months old. From then on, he’s been doing this all on his own. And frankly, he’s been doin’ a pretty good job with it. Yeah, the little one sets people on fire and the older one is sporting bright red lipstick and booty shorts most days, but they’re good kids. Happy. Which is more than I can say for his relationship with Tara when they got pregnant while we were all still in high school.

Maybe that’s why I let Abbi go. Because Tara didn’t have a choice. Barron didn’t have a choice. I didn’t want that for Abbi. I wanted her to want me because it was a decision she made. Not because of a consequence.

Barron hands a repair order for the backhoe in my stall that spit oil all over me. “She got into Kacy’s lipstick.”

I tip my hat back, wiping my hand over my face. The more I try to wipe the oil off my face, the worse it gets. I’m in desperate need of a shower. “Hmm.” I smile. “You know what they say about red lipstick.”

“No. What do they say?” He’s staring at my hair now, probably wondering why I have oil in it. “And why are you covered in oil?”

“Slutty.” I wink and take a step back away from him in case he tries to hit me for calling his mystery girl a slut. And technically I didn’t call her slut. I called red lipstick slutty. “Oil was hot when it came out and soaked me.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “She’s not slutty.”

A gruff laugh rumbles through me. “You don’t know anything about her,” I point out.

“Not true,” he tries to tell me. “Her dad’s the drummer for Final Order.”

I blink a few times, trying to recall who that is and then it hits me. Rock star and drug addict. “No shit?”

“Yep.” He nods to my phone in my hand that I’m pretty sure no longer works. I dropped it in my attempt to shield myself from the oil bath I took. “Did you call Abbi?”

“No,” I lie over the sounds of Rhett warming up the pit bike in the shop. Barron doesn’t need to know I called her. Nobody does. If you noticed, I didn’t even tell Lillian this morning.

“You’re going to let her marry that doctor?”

“He’s not a doctor yet.” I shrug, eyeing Rhett riding the bike in the shop with Sev. She’s all grins and little-girl laughter that brings a smile to my face.

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