Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding) - By Sydney Somers Page 0,60

fake relationship?

Shit, he needed a beer. And definitely more than one.

With the recent events that had put him back in the spotlight, however, he didn’t want anyone wondering if he was off the wagon. He’d never needed to be on the wagon, but when his ex had been interviewed following his accident, she’d implied that alcohol had been a factor. Half a beer was far from a factor, but of course she couldn’t have left it alone. No, that factor had also been one of the reasons he’d supposedly dumped her.

With his mood growing fouler, he decided on a drive. He jogged down the steps, but stopped at the end of a parked Jeep when he noticed the shorter teen from Hayley’s. Brent, he thought.

Unfortunately Jackson also recognized the douche standing opposite Brent, looking more pissed than a guy sent to the penalty box during playoffs for some bogus call.

Jackson took a small measure of comfort in the fact that buddy’s face was still bruised from their fight the other night. His body was just as rigid with tension, his lips cut in a threatening smile—like he was spoiling for another fight, but with his younger brother this time, Jackson guessed. The two had the same unruly auburn hair and freckles. They were definitely related.

The pair talked too low for Jackson to hear, but there was no missing the hard shove that knocked Brent into the car at his back.

“Take it easy.” Jackson moved in their direction, stopping just shy of being considered a threat, but making his presence felt nonetheless.

The douche’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck off.”

Jackson had heard it before, had in fact heard a slight variation of it the other night. It hadn’t taken much to resist the moron’s verbal baiting before, but picking on a kid smaller and younger than him? Not a chance.

Maybe he was still pissed at where their last confrontation had landed him. Or maybe he was still stewing about his and Hayley’s argument. Either way, Jackson didn’t hesitate to make the first move.

He plowed the guy in the face, nailing him in the jaw with his fist.

Chapter Nine

Blood spurted from the corner of the moron’s lips, and he spat a mouthful on the gravel, but Jackson was already moving, taking a swing at his friend wearing a Red Sox ball cap before he jumped in to cover his friend’s back.

He made contact with his fist, but only a glancing blow deflected by a hand thrown up at the last second. Leaving him wide open for the punch he took to the gut.

Jesus.

Doubled over, Jackson saw Brent dart away from the fight, retreating to the deck. Likely a safe distance to watch Jackson go two-to-one with Brent’s brother and friend.

Dragging in a sharp breath, Jackson launched himself straight at the older brother. They both hit the side of the Jeep and toppled hard to the gravel. His palms scraped the rocks as he fought his way back to his feet.

Red Sox hung back to help his friend up. More blood dripped down the guy’s face. He’d look really pretty in the morning.

Jackson grinned and flexed a fist, knowing he’d need to ice it later. Wasn’t much point in worrying about it now when they were far from done. Brent’s older brother used the Jeep to propel himself the rest of the way to his feet.

Fists swinging, he moved fast for a guy of his size, but Jackson caught him, spun him around and planted him face-first against the truck parked next to the Jeep.

Shit. It was Hayley’s truck. And the new dent in the passenger-side door was his fault. He might have noticed her truck sooner if the rain weren’t coming down in drenching sheets that plastered his shirt to his chest.

Brent’s brother slid along the wet truck, his knees wobbling when he tried to stand this time. Just as pissed, Red Sox charged Jackson.

White foam hit them both in the face, and he coughed when he tasted some on his tongue. The foamy deluge continued until all three scrambled away from one another. Jackson followed the end of the hose to where Hayley stood, clutching the fire extinguisher she’d used to break up the fight.

“You’ve got one minute to get lost or you two will be arrested this time.”

Brent’s brother and his friend took off, pausing long to glare at Brent, who still stood at the edge of the deck.

Jackson wiped at the foam, glad for the rain that was helping to wash the