Page 14 of Sweet Southern Heat

“Right,” she hurriedly agreed. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

She didn’t bother me again, and I tried not to let my gaze wander to her, but every now and then I caught movement from the corner of my eye as she reapplied sunscreen or turned over in her lounge chair. I cursed myself for admiring her luscious ass as she laid on her stomach, reading a book while Honey painted her toenails.

When I was finished, I quickly cleaned up and hauled my tools and extra lumber back to the truck. I considered telling Olivia I was done and bidding her goodbye, but I didn’t trust myself not to look at her in a way I had no business looking at her. She'd already caught me once. I wouldn’t let it happen again. Instead, I shot off a quick text to Dean letting him know I was done and hopped in my truck.

I’d just made it to the bridge when my phone rang. A name I both dreaded and longed to see flashed across my screen. I wasn’t in a good mental state to talk to him, but I had to answer. He could be in trouble. It was more likely he wanted something from me, but I couldn’t risk missing his call in case he needed me.

Connecting the call, I placed it on speakerphone so both my hands were free. I heaved a deep breath before speaking, attempting to calm my nerves at his sudden need for communication.

“Hey,” I answered cheerily. You never knew what kind of mood he’d be in. If I seemed the least bit annoyed or rushed, it could set him off.

“Hey, big brother. Long time no talk.”

Chapter 15

Landon

I briefly pinchedmy eyes closed, suppressing my irritation. My little brother never answered my calls and rarely responded to my texts, yet he made it sound like it was just coincidence that we hardly spoke these days. If he was calling me, that could only mean one thing.

“Lyle,” I replied, my voice laced with warning. “What’s going on?” He chuckled, the sound almost taunting.

“Can’t a guy just call his brother to catch up?”

“Sure,” I replied cautiously, “but you haven’t been real talkative lately.” I tried to suppress the bitterness in my tone, but a little slipped out. It was true, though. Ever since I’d ripped him a new one about six months ago when I found out he was stealing from our father, he’d ceased all communication.

Our dad loved his children, but he had never been firm enough with Lyle. After the accident, it got worse. My brother nearly died in that crash and spent months recovering from his injuries and multiple surgeries to fix his leg. Dad was so shaken up from nearly losing his baby boy that he struggled to set boundaries with him, and as a result, Lyle used, manipulated, and stole from him. Our father gave him money when he askedfor it, and when he needed a place to crash, he let him come back. And he’d paid dearly for it each time he caved.

Lyle sighed at the inconvenient truth. There was no denying I had a point. It didn’t matter. He would break soon enough and admit the real reason for his impromptu call.

“Fine,” he said, sounding like a petulant child. “I need you to float me some cash, okay.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” The last time he’d asked me for cash, he owed his dealer big time. They were going to re-break his leg if he didn’t pay them $1200. I had to pull it from my savings, and it took me months to build it back up.

“Why do you always assume something is wrong?” he snapped.

“Lyle,” I ground out in warning.

“I’m behind on my phone bill. They’re gonna shut it off,” he finally admitted. That was easy enough to fix. I’d just stop by and pay it on my way home. “I need some groceries too, and Kara’s baby needs formula and diapers.” I’d heard he was dating Kara Shepherd. She had an eight-month-old baby who, to the best of my knowledge, didn’t belong to Lyle. I also knew she received help from the state and her parents to provide for the baby. He wanted money for something else, but was trying to appeal to my humanity, something he’d lost six years ago when his hopes and dreams were shattered along with his leg.

My chest ached at the condition he was in. It wasn’t his fault. He’d become hooked on the pain pills they’d prescribed following the accident and the multiple surgeries he’d needed to repair his leg. Losing his chance at a football scholarship and a likely career in the pros didn’t help matters either. It was all stolen from him by a selfish, irresponsible temptress with no regard for the lives of those around her.

He quickly spiraled into a deep depression which only fanned the flames of his addiction. We tried everything we could to helphim. My father sent him to rehab, which cost him thousands of dollars out of pocket. That along with the medical bills that were quickly piling up from Lyle’s lengthy hospital stay and physical therapy nearly sank him financially. That was when his health began to go downhill. He was so preoccupied with taking care of Lyle that he’d neglected to take care of himself. His diabetes got out of control, and he began to have blood flow issues in his foot. It got so bad they eventually had to amputate part of his leg. As if our situation wasn’t bad enough, Dad was forced to stop working and go on disability, putting further financial strain on our family.

That wreck caused a domino effect that devastated our family. If it hadn’t been for Olivia’s carelessness, Lyle’s life wouldn’t be in shambles, and my father would still be healthy and working toward retirement. Yet she got away without even a slap on the wrist.

Shoving down the rage boiling in my chest at those thoughts, I pinched the bridge of my nose and weighed my next words. I had to tread carefully with Lyle, or I wouldn’t hear from him for another six months. Even worse, he’d try to steal from Dad again.

“I’m happy to help. I’ll stop and pay the phone bill now, and if you send me a list of what you need, I’ll run by the grocery store. Just shoot me off a text with the address where you’re staying, and I’ll drop everything off.”

“I’m not a fucking child,” he spat, and I knew instantly that was the wrong thing to say. He needed a fix, one that a cartful of groceries wouldn’t satisfy. “I can do my own shopping and pay my own bill. I just need you to lend me some money.”

“I can’t do that,” I replied calmly. The last time I’d given him cash, he overdosed and ended up hospitalized with a tube down his throat to help him breathe. “But I’ll get you whatever you need.” My tone was pleading. I was desperate now. Desperate tohelp any way I could. Desperate to keep him from overdosing again. If he would just let me help him?—

“Don’t worry about it,” he snapped. “I should’ve known better than to askyoufor anything.” He hung up before I could reply, and I worried it was the last time I’d ever hear my brother’s voice.

Chapter 16

Olivia

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