Page 16 of Jack of All Trades
The raw emotion in his voice catches me off guard. This isn't just brotherly protectiveness. It's deeper, more primal. Rex raised Maya after their parents were out of the picture. She's not just his sister; she's practically his kid.
"I understand," I say quietly. "More than you know."
Rex stares at me for a long moment, some of the anger in his eyes fading to wariness. He knows what I'm referring to—how I stepped up after Mom died, becoming the anchor that kept Ethan tethered to reality when his PTSD threatened to drag him under. How I stayed in Pine Haven when my other brothers left, because someone needed to maintain our family home, our roots.
"This isn't the same," Rex says finally, but with less heat.
"No, it's not," I agree. "But I respect what you've done for Maya. And I respect you too much to ever do anything that would hurt either of you."
Maya watches this exchange with sharp eyes, no doubt filing away every word for later analysis.
"It doesn't matter anyway," she interjects. "I'm only in town for Rex's birthday and then I'm heading back to Seattle. This isn't—" she gestures between herself and me, "—anything."
Her words shouldn't sting, but they do. I remind myself that she's right. Whatever attraction might be simmering between us, it's pointless to explore it. She lives in Seattle. I'm here in Pine Haven. And Rex would clearly rather eat glass than see us together.
"See?" Maya continues. "Nothing for you to worry about. Now can we please stop creating a scene in the middle of the fairgrounds?"
For the first time, I notice that we've attracted attention. Several people at nearby tables are watching with undisguised interest, and Betty Wilson has edged closer, not even pretending she isn't eavesdropping.
Rex notices too and runs a hand over his face, visibly trying to rein in his temper. "Fine. But we're leaving now."
"Rex—" Maya begins to protest.
"It's getting late anyway," I cut in, not wanting to drive an even bigger wedge between the siblings. "And I've got an early morning tomorrow. Promised Ethan I'd help him with a project at his place."
Maya gives me a look that clearly says she knows what I'm doing, giving her an easy out to leave with Rex without further argument. After a moment, she nods.
"Thanks for the funnel cake," she says. "And congratulations on your win tonight."
"Thanks for coming," I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral despite the disappointment churning in my gut. "It meant a lot."
Rex's eyes narrow again at this exchange, but he says nothing, just waits impatiently for Maya to gather her purse.
"I'll text you about the party details," Maya whispers as she stands to leave.
"Sounds good."
By tomorrow, the whole town will be buzzing with speculation about the confrontation between Rex Torres and Jack Morrison over Rex's mysterious sister.
I sink back into my seat, appetite gone, and stare at the half-eaten funnel cake. The evening had been going so well. Maya had actually seemed to be enjoying herself, had even laughed—really laughed—at something I said. For a brief moment, I'd seen past her defensive walls to the woman underneath: sharp, observant, with a dry wit that matched my own.
And then Rex showed up.
I can't blame him, not really. If I had a sister, I'd probably be just as protective. Especially if that sister was being pursued by someone with my reputation.
Not that I was pursuing Maya. Not officially, anyway. Sure, I find her attractive, more so with each interaction, but I'm not stupid enough to make a move on my best friend's sister, especially when she's made it clear she's leaving town soon.
Still, there was something there. A connection. A spark of possibility that's now been thoroughly doused by Rex's disapproval.
I gather the remains of our abandoned dessert and toss it in a nearby trash can. As I make my way to the parking lot, several people call out congratulations on my ride or ask about the "little disagreement" with Rex. I answer politely but briefly, not in the mood for small talk.
In my truck, I sit for a moment before starting the engine. My phone buzzes with a text, and my heart jumps thinking it might be Maya. But it's just Travis asking if I want to grab a beer at The Rusty Nail to celebrate tonight's win.
I decline. The last thing I need right now is to show up at the bar where half the town will be gathered, all of them buzzing about what just happened. Better to head home, get some sleep, and hope the gossip dies down by morning.
Who am I kidding? This is Pine Haven. The gossip will only get more elaborate overnight.
I drive home slowly, taking the long route through town. Pine Haven is quiet at this hour, most businesses closed except for The Rusty Nail and the 24-hour diner on Main Street. Streetlights cast pools of yellow on empty sidewalks, and the mountains loom dark against the star-filled sky.
