Reprise Page 10

  “I’m inviting you and I’m the out of town guest. It’s really fucking rude to turn me down, actually.”

  Did she hear that right? “What?”

  Harlon moved in front of her, turning to his friend, who was grinning up at him like a maniac. “Ease up or I’ll leave you in Cleary.”

  “Mallory’s in Cleary, I’d be fine with that,” Knuckles returning, chin up to meet the big guy’s glare. “I like her. She’s shiny.” His eyes widened and Mallory realized the shit disturber knew exactly what he was winding up when he talked to the mountain of angry bear in front of him.

  Well, wasn’t this confusing?

  “You’ll want to tread light with that.”

  “You care that much?”

  Something happened in that stare down. She had no idea what had passed from the younger man to the older one but when Harlon turned back to her he looked...defeated.

  “Yeah, you should come out with us. We can,” he cleared his throat, “you know. Catch up.”

  Chapter Nine

  He mostly managed to keep his eyes off her ass as he followed her and Knuckles out of the home.

  He never understood why people said women aged like fine wine. That was ridiculous. Wine was a happy accident of shit rotting and festering. Made no fucking sense. The longer it sat in a bottle, unused, the better it was? Unused being the operative word. As long as nothing disturbed its rest, it was more desirable.

  Stupid fucking metaphor.

  But a woman like Mallory...shit. Time had shined her up like a gemstone. She was her. She was what she had always been, just more. The ache in the middle of his rib cage got worse. Fuck leaving her on a shelf to “age better.” He should have been here, taking the tumble of life right along with her.

  She laughed at something Knuckles said and as much as his cock apparently loved the sound, his hands tightened to fists. His brother put one hand on her and he ran the risk of his dick being pulled off while he slept.

  They stopped next to a truck Harlon recognized instantly: it was Matthew Beck’s old truck. Mallory rested one hand on the handle, talking to Knuckles, pointing towards Main Street while they talked. He couldn’t hear anything; his blood was pounding in his ears like he was having a panic attack.

  “Well, Harlon knows where it is.” She turned to him, still smiling from whatever Knuckles had said just now. “You remember the diner?”

  All he could do was nod, then when Knuckles frowned at him he decided talking might improve the situation. “Yeah. Jim still running it?”

  “No, he retired to Arizona. But you remember Jeremy? His son? He was three years ahead of me in school—”

  “Jughead?”

  She grinned wider, nodding. “Yeah. Jughead runs it. Changed the name to Jughead’s.”

  Harlon had to chuckle. “He came by that nickname honestly.” For Knuckles’ benefit Tiny added, “Guy was rail thin, ate like a trash compactor. Just like the Archie comic.”

  “He’s still scrawny,” Mallory added, shaking her head. “I’d kill for a metabolism like that.”

  “You don’t need to worry. You’re perfect.”

  It flew out of his mouth so fast the other two’s heads made a swish sound as they spun to stare at him. Knuckles looked far too fucking amused, and Mallory was...he didn’t know. Surprised, sure.

  “Let’s go. Knuckles gets cranky when he doesn’t eat.”

  “Whatever Dad.”

  He should have told the guy to ride with his new best friend but he also didn’t like Knuckles putting all that charm on her. Women liked it, even though her smile told Harlon that she found it amusing more than effective.

  He still didn’t like it.

  In the cab of the truck he put the transmission in reverse but waited for Mallory to back out first. As he watched out the rearview it started.

  “Okay, Tiny. What. The. Fuck?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  There was a pause. “Um, well. How should I put this? Who’s Mrs. Robinson there and why are you all tongue-tied and shy all of a sudden?”

  He scoffed at that, backing out of their diagonal spot. “Who’s fucking shy?”

  “Who is she? Who was she to you? There’s a whole lot of hot and heavy there, man. You gotta spill before we get there.”

  “No.”

  “All right. At least tell me she’s a hot lay. She may be old but, shit, those tits man. And that ass. I don’t know what I’d want to get my hands on first—”

  He only stopped after Tiny slammed the truck back in park and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him closer across the consol. “You don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

  Knuckles was grinning, and Tiny knew he’d fallen right into the asshole’s trap, but it didn’t mean he was having a heart-to-heart on the two minute drive down the street. He didn’t want to be that raw when they walked in and he had to be around her again.

  “Calm that roll man, and give me something.”

  “Fuck. You.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Shut up.”

  Knuckles lost his smile. “Who the fuck is she and why does she have you so scared?”

  It was the tone of voice. Knuckles was done fucking around, and if Tiny didn’t give him the gist he was bringing it up in front of Mal. And that...that would be a disaster.

  He couldn’t let that happen.

  “I was with her. A long time ago. She got pregnant. I fell in love with her. We had a kid. The kid died. I blamed her and left town. All right?”

  As he’d spouted off each fact Knuckles’ eyes got wider and wider, and at the end of that sad little haiku he was even pale.

  Tiny released his shirt and turned back to the wheel, slamming the shifter in drive and taking off again.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”

  “I’m not. And you bring that up, you do anything to upset her, I will bust your fucking thick head wide open.”

  “You asked if she still visited her dad.”

  Shit. Just once he wished the guy didn’t remember fucking everything. “Yeah.”

  “Were her parents disappointed?”

  Tiny had to laugh. “That’s a nice way to say it. They threw her out. I’d known her four months and she shows up at my door, hysterical and in tears. They’d told her to get out when she told them she was knocked up.”

  “Shit, man.”

  “I had to tell my parents about it, obviously.” Shit, it was like momentum on a hill. One push and suddenly he was off at sixty miles per hour. “They let her move in with them.”

  “Fuck. You’re kidding?”

  “Nah. My mom was so fucking happy. Excited about a grandbaby. My dad thought she was hot but he wasn’t an asshole so he tried to be the father figure in the whole fucked up situation. And I was sacred shitless the entire time.”

  “Man. I like your mom even more now.”

  Knuckles and his mom got on like a house on fire. Even in a bedroom in an old folks’ home she was ever the hostess, offering them tea, cookies, and delightful small talk. She had no idea who they were, but when she started telling jokes Tiny had to wipe a few tears from his eyes. Not because they were funny, but because she was very much still his mom. She just didn’t know it.

  He had to end the visit when Knuckles told a joke that had Mom blushing and giggling, though. Fucking asshole telling his mom a dirty joke. What was wrong with that fucking guy?

  Yeah she laughed, but—

  “Anyway. I guess we did it backwards. She got knocked up and...I got attached. Even as scared as I was I got attached. Did all the baby stuff; visits to the doctor, birthing classes. Bought us a house.”

  Knuckles raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Told you. I...” he paused when his voice cracked. “I was in love with her.”

  Luckily Knuckles respected it when his urge to share died off.

  The diner he knew was indeed now called Jughead’s, with a retro-style sign out front that abs
olutely brought the comics to mind. Inside it was still styled like a fifties’ diner, and even though the Formica-topped tables were badly scared and faded it was like going back in time.

  Mallory was just sliding into a booth, no need to wave them over. He saw her. He’d notice her anywhere.

  Knuckles sat opposite from her, and Tiny gave him a glare. No way he was sitting next to the guy which meant he had to slide in beside Mallory.

  Jesus. So close to her. He imagined he could smell her skin from where he sat.

  Their waitress was quick to approach, and as she went to get them their round of beers Knuckles snagged a laminated sheet from behind the condiment holder against the wall. “So, what’s good here?”

  “The burgers are probably their signature,” Mallory said, polite and cordial. “They make the patties here. They’re huge, but they’re really good.”

  “There’s an entire burger menu. This place is awesome.”

  Tiny had to chuckle as Knuckles ran his eyes down the list. “I imagine the bacon double cheese is still available?” he said, turning his head her way.

  She did the same and smiled. “Of course. Chocolate milk shake?”

  “Maybe for dessert,” he replied, knowing his voice had gotten softer.

  Those aquamarine eyes flared a little, and he knew she was remembering the same thing he was: loading her into his old pick up at late night hours, driving her here for a bacon double cheeseburger and chocolate milkshake because she was pregnant with his kid and if that’s what she wanted at midnight he was fucking making sure she got it.

  They’d always shared the milk shake.

  When he dropped his eyes and faced forward again Knuckles was staring at him, but not curious anymore. He was smiling knowingly, eyes going from Tiny to Mallory and back again. Like he was doing math or coming up with a theory.

  Tiny didn’t have the ability to punch him in the face at the moment, which was too bad.

  The beers—a root variety for Knuckles—were delivered and a round of burgers and fries ordered. Tiny was happy to hear it as Mallory ordered the Sloppy Cheese Burger. She was like him; loved eating, loved her food. And when she wanted to eat she fucking ate. No cutesy salad order, no dressing, or asking for the burger “without sauce.” He hated that shit.

  “So Miss Mallory. What do you do with your days?”

  She smiled at Knuckles, but Tiny recognized it as her amused smile. Not the smile he used to get when the flirting or charm was working its magic. “I’m kinda working two gigs. I’m in the house band at the hotel bar.”

  “In the band?” Tiny cut in. “You’re the band leader. You’re the lead singer.”

  Her eyes were wide as she regarded him. “How’d you know that?”

  Shit. “Dad mentioned it the last time I was here.”

  They stared at each other. Fuck, he wanted to tell her he’d seen her and how good she’d been. But that would also mean admitting he’d run out of there before actually running the risk of seeing her face to face.

  “You’re a singer? Really?”

  “Well, in a house band at a hotel in Cleary, Colorado. Yeah. I guess I’m a singer.”

  “You were always a great singer. Great voice.” Again with her wide-eyed surprise. He should really shut up. He was making an ass of himself.

  “You said you had two gigs. What else?”

  “Oh, um,” her attention went back to Knuckles but Tiny knew she was slightly frazzled. “For extra cash I work at the bakery under my apartment. Just the afternoons. They close at five, I’m done in time to play, and I get to sleep in.”

  “Have you always lived in Cleary?”

  Tiny reevaluated his frustration with Knuckles. The guy was leading conversation to things he wanted to know himself. As opposed to just staring at her and wanting to apologize and fall on his knees to beg her forgiveness.

  “I moved around. I tried the rock star thing with a couple of bands but...I like having my roots, you know? I was in Nashville for a while, got hired to sing back-up on a few albums. That was cool. But I couldn’t afford to live there. There are a lot of aspiring stars there, and I was...I don’t know. Getting too old.”

  Knuckles made a dismissive sound. “Like that would matter. You’re hot, look at you.”

  Tiny’s hands curled up again, even as Mallory laughed. “Jesus. Do you have an off switch?”

  “He does. But it’s the kind you have to punch,” Tiny growled. He was back to wishing the fucker stayed home.

  “Easy, big guy,” Mallory murmured, and her hand rested on his forearm. His flannel was rolled up, so it was her skin on his. Enough to stop him from breathing; the warmth that she transferred to him exactly like coming home used to be. The anger dissolved. “It’s not working anyway.” It took him a second to realize she meant Knuckles’ flirting.

  “Not trying to get in those jeans, Mallory. Just saying age shouldn’t stop you from doing anything.”

  Mallory dropped her hands to her lap, eyes on her twisting fingers. Okay, so somehow that hit too close. He glared at Knuckles, who honestly seemed at a loss as to what he’d said. He shrugged and took a swig of beer.

  -oOo-

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Half asleep after coming home from a fifteen-hour trip, Harlon was trying to wake up as he stood in his apartment doorway. It was late afternoon, he knew that much. And in front of him Mallory Beck was weeping, tears running down her face, sobs shaking her body.

  “What?”

  “I’m pregnant. I’m knocked up.”

  There was no sinking despair. Maybe if he’d been more awake he could find the energy to flip out, but at the moment he was...stunned, for sure. But otherwise numb.

  “Shit. I knocked you up?”

  She nodded, hiccupping. Fuck, she was almost manic with the crying. Pregnancy was scary but...something else was going on. He was sure of it, even with his brain as foggy as it was.

  “Get in here, come sit.” He took her arm gently and pulled her into the apartment, leading her to his living room which just held a sofa with a TV on a plastic milk crate. He sat her down and parked it next to her, leaning back into the cushions. When she kept trembling he pulled her to his side, angling her to tuck her face in at his neck. One arm went around her back, the other played with her hair. “What do we do?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I can’t...I can’t kill it.”

  There was a flare of relief, but he didn’t think he’d been worried about that. Not with her. “Okay. Good. That’s good.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I don’t...I don’t know if I could make that call but I’m glad.”

  “Should I put it up for adoption?”

  He dropped his head back, eyes closing. He’d grown to like her, he really had. At first yeah, the sex had been great and her willingness to leave it at that was refreshing. But then she was staying the night, and he found waking next to her just as exciting as when she’d show up at his door without warning, climbing him like a cat and kissing him hard. Waking next to her, rolling her back into his hold as she slept on was...well, really sweet. He could get used to this girl, and he wasn’t fighting it. He’d take things as they came.

  But fuck. This was more than fast. This was jumping ahead at light speed.

  “Adoption is always an option,” Tiny said carefully. “I just worry that you make that decision now and then, as that baby is growing and forming and kicking at you...you might regret letting them take it.”

  She nodded. “I’m scared of that. Of being attached but following through because I promised. Even if I don’t want to let it go.”

  “So for now, not adoption. But don’t rule it out?” It was just suggestion. He’d support whatever she chose, and what was more: he’d be in agreement. He wasn’t going to leave it to her to make all the calls, take all the blame.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Good.” He held her a little longer until the crying turned into just hiccups. “So what e
lse? This is more than the baby. What happened? You were already crying when you got here.”

  She pushed away, but just to lean on his chest and look up at him. “I told my parents. My mom was...I don’t know. She locked down on me. But my dad...” her voice faltered again, eyes filling up. His stomach tightened. He didn’t like this, seeing her hurt, and he had the feeling the next thing she said would send him straight into fury. “My dad threw me out.”

  He didn’t know if he made a noise or tightened his hold or what, but she froze and stared at him, tears forgotten. “Harlon?”

  “He what?”

  “He...are you okay?”

  “He did what?”

  “He told me to get out.” Now she was scared, not sad. And that was worse, but the heat rushing through his blood had no damper on it. He couldn’t shut it down.

  “He threw you out?”

  “He let me pack a bag of clothes then told me I couldn’t live there anymore.”

  “Fucking cocksucker.” He got up so suddenly she toppled to the side. He grabbed his flannel off the back of the sofa and pulled it on, movements rough and jerky. All he could see was white-hot.

  “Harlon—”

  “Stay here. Don’t leave, don’t answer the phone.”

  “Wait. Where are you going?”

  She followed him the short hall to the door, then stopped when he jerked the door open and spun on her. “Mal, stay here. Don’t answer the phone. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “I...I walked.”

  Fuck. Her parents lived in a nice outer region of Cleary. It had to have taken her a forty-five minutes or so to get to him. His hand cranked down on the door knob. He thought his jaw might have cracked for how tight it got. “Don’t leave. Okay?”

  Her arms were wrapped around her body, and she nodded. Tears were still in her eyes but she looked scared. “Just tell me where you’re going.”

  “I’m going to get the rest of your things. Don’t worry.”

  “Wait, Harlon, don’t—”

  “Your old man doesn’t scare me,” he cut in sharply. “He’ll let me in and I’ll get your things. One bag of clothes is bullshit.”