Tango, and Carter Michaels, the breeze trying to snatch away their sandwich wrappers.
“Daddy!” Cal exclaimed, hand pressed to the window.
Mercy stood when he saw the truck, wide grin breaking across his face, and Ava parked so she could get out and kiss him; so she could open the back door and let the boys out to latch onto their father.
Leah walked around the nose of the truck and leaned against the brush guard, breathing in the scents of river water and motor oil. Déjà vu hit her hard: this could have been a scene from her high school years: the boys on a lunch break, Ava besotted.
Only there were kids now, and wedding bands, and both everything and nothing had changed at all.
It left her a little dizzy.
Tango lifted a hand in greeting, and she waved back.
“Albie give you the discount?” Aidan called.
“Too much of one, honestly.”
He nodded, pleased.
“Hey.” The last came from Carter, who’d set his sandwich down so he could turn to face her, straddling the bench.
She’d recognized him straight off when they pulled up, the back of his head unmistakable after spending three years behind it in English class. She’d known his home situation was bad before, that he’d lost his place on the A&M football team, and his scholarship. She knew all about shattered dreams. She’d known he was thinking of prospecting the club, but seeing him up close, face-to-face, was a shock.
He’d always been the sort of All-American golden boy that left girls swooning and mothers reminiscing about their younger years. The sort of boy you wanted to make out with in a backseat, but whom you weren’t afraid to take home to meet your father. Never Leah’s type – she’d grown up knowing that success in any arena wouldn’t be found for her if she chased the popular crowd. Korean, adopted, different, opinionated, uninterested in schoolyard politics, she’d known she wouldn’t fit in and so she hadn’t tried. It was why she and Ava had become such fast friends. It was why she’d never entertained romantic notions about pretty blond boys like Carter.
Well. He was still blond. And he was still pretty: those classic, masculine features, the straight nose, and the full lips.
But his eyes. Their blue depths were full of shadows; full of unhappiness and cynicism, and a sort of sad resolve that was echoed in the stubble on his jaw, and the scuffs on his boots.
He was properly patched in now, and his cut bore the wear and flaws to prove it. Gone were the polo shirts and the boat shoes. The rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt revealed strong, tan forearms and knuckles laced with scars. Old healed-over workshop cuts; evidence of punches thrown, and violence wreaked.
He’d been depressed when he first came back from college, working the till at Leroy’s and wondering what to do with his life. But he’d still been Carter.
The boy looking at her now seemed an entirely different person.
“Hey,” she returned, belatedly, when she’d recovered from the shock.
One corner of his mouth twitched in what wasn’t a smile, like he’d noticed. “You back for good, or just visiting?”
“For good.” She didn’t manage to sound chipper, but she figured he understood all too well what it was like to come back after a big letdown.
“She’s a got place over in Kris’s complex,” Ava said. “Now we’re job-hunting.”
Leah really didn’t want charity, but that we still felt good. Unlike Carter, she wasn’t on her own as she returned.
He wasn’t either, anymore, but he had been at first. She wondered if, had things been different, if he’d had a support network, he would have joined the Dogs.
Probably not. And he probably wouldn’t appreciate being asked about it, either.
“Ready?” Ava asked.
“Yeah.” She offered a wave. “Bye, guys. Good to see you again, Carter.”
“Yeah, you, too.” He gave her a flat, unreadable look before he turned back around.
Once they were back in the truck and driving away, she looked toward Ava and said, “God, what happened to him?”
Ava shook her head, frowning. “I don’t really know. But he’s worrying me. Something’s not right.”
Four
Come over 2nite baby boy. Followed by a winky-face emoji. And a confetti emoji.
That last one pulled him up short a moment, as he was stowing his tools and getting ready to leave the shop for the night. Celebration usually had a slightly different meaning for Jazz than it did for other people. Regular civilians went out to dinner. Bikers and club girls, well…things could get wild.
It was after