Page 10 of Mr. July

“Easily. You were off making summer conquests of your own. Are we seriously going out? Because I’m in the mood for a little festivity.”

I checked the Tudor Tourneau watch on my wrist that I had treated myself to when I made partner. It set me back $4k. I wear it as a reminder that hard work has rewards. “It’s a long drive to the dive bar outside the city.”

“So? We’ll crash at your apartment then come back for Christmas Day.”

I texted Hunter back.

Me:We’ll be there, bitch.

Hunter:We?

Me:Me and my twin. I have a face to wreck… yours.

Hunter:Bring it, bro. You’ve lost all your edge. I’ll be under the mistletoe waiting to see Char.

Me:Dead, bro. Dead.

Char and I locked up. She spent the entire drive back to the city fixing her hair and makeup. I almost swerved off the road when she pulled out a curling iron and plugged it in.

“You’re going to burn all this smooth as butter leather!” With my left hand on the wheel, I made a wild grab for her beauty tool, almost singing my palm in the process. “Shit, that’s hot!”

“Because it’s a damn curling iron, you fool. Calm down.”

I bit my tongue to stop myself from cursing at her. I loved my sister but spending hours in her company reminded me why I stayed single.

“Take the next exit.”

“Why?”

“To get my naughty elf outfit. Why else?”

“This better not take long,” I grumbled. I did what she asked and waited in the car while she shopped in some fancy women’s clothing boutique that I never knew existed.

“All set?” I had asked when she came back out thirty minutes later.

“You betcha,” she grinned. She wore her warm winter coat, so I had no idea the shitshow I was in for when she’d take it off at Hank’s Bar and Grill fifty minutes later.

When I pulled into the lot behind Hank’s I got a bad feeling. The place was jammed. I knew the inside of the wooden shack like bar was going to feel like a muggy summer night on the bayou. I peeled my sweater off and went inside wearing a tight, white undershirt and my work jeans. Char decided to check her coat. I texted Hunter letting him know we had arrived as I found a spot by the bar. When I looked up, my eyes widened larger than a kid’s on Christmas morning.

Char was wearing a red velvet teddy dress thing with faux fur white trim paired with red stilettos.

I closed my eyes as she approached.

“I need a mind eraser because I wish I never saw that shit. Damn it, Char. What the hell are you wearing? No brother should ever have to witness his sister in something like that.”

“It’s just a slip dress. Relax. The transitional gray paint ruined my new Jimmy Choo’s. Tonight’s pot will be enough for two new pairs.”

“How about I buy you ten if you put your coat back on?”

Char turned as Hunter put an arm around her waist. A mind eraser showed up next to my hand. I downed it in one swallow, my hand wrapped around the lowball glass so tight I half expected it to shatter. Hunter’s eyes were all over Char. If his hands followed, I’d have to break them.

“Dance with me Freckles.” He had Char’s hand. They disappeared before I could even respond. My mood grew darker the merrier everyone else’s became. I ordered an iced-cold draft. The frothy foam slid down the back of my throat and cooled me down. Just when I felt like an ass for feeling like the Grinch—some fucktard grinded into his girl so hard his elbow hit my beer sloshing it down my shirt.

“Idiot,” I growled, scowling. He was younger than me, completely oblivious to his fuckery. The girl he was making out with brushed up against me. I was pinned between the bar and them. Her perfume was so strong, I turned my head. This scene was old. I used to revel in shit like this. But now my fixer upper and work were my life, not drunken nights kissing strangers. Putting what was left of my beer down, I put out two palms nudging the dude out of my way. He lifted his head, annoyed I interrupted. “You spilled my beer.”

“And?”

My cheeks flushed. I wasn’t about to get into a bar fight and make the papers. Instead, I killed him with one glare before winding through the crowd on my way to the men’s room. “Fuck, this,” I hissed, eyeing Hunter and Char. He had her wrapped up in his arms with his face pressed against her neck. The tip of my shoe kicked the bathroom door open. I dabbed at my shirt with paper towels, but it barely helped.

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