Page 79 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
“Mmm.” Her eyes closed, and she let out a moan that shot straight to my cock. I was half-tempted to turn the truck around and skip the damn fireworks. But no, I was a glutton for punishment. By the time we’d reached the park where the fireworks were being held, I had a bulge in my jeans that couldn’t be missed, and my cock was so stiff it was a miracle I could even get out of the damn truck and walk.
“This is the first time we’ve been out together in public,” Evie said when I grabbed her hand and led her past the livestock show and the food trucks.
Live music—country and heavy on the twang—drifted from the amphitheater.
I was hard as stone and sweating my balls off. This had nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with the fact that I was hooking up with Evie, and so far, all I’d gotten out of the deal was a case of blue balls and an intimate relationship with my right hand. It was beginning to feel like a permanent affliction. But I had no one to blame except myself. I’d given her the damn Blow Pop, and she’d tortured me with it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, a temporary distraction, and I checked the message.
Brody: Where the hell are you? If you don’t show up, I’m moving you back into the house.
Fucking hell. Now that he had something to hold over my head, he used it against me all the damn time.
“I hope you like barbecue.” I didn’t mention that she was about to be thrust into a McCallister family dinner. Payback is a bitch. She’d tortured me, and now it was my turn to repay the favor.
She was half-jogging to keep up with me. “Slow down.”
I slowed to a moderate pace and wiped the sweat off my forehead as I ushered her through the door. The space was as big as an airplane hangar with long tables decked out in red, white, and blue. Volunteers in red Team Phoenix T-shirts manned the entrance. The BBQ dinner was hosted by Jude’s non-profit organization. A charity fundraiser.
“Have you got your tickets?” a stout woman with short brown hair asked.
I stopped at the table and searched my pockets for the VIP tickets Jude had dropped off.
Shit. Had I left them on the kitchen counter? While I was checking my pockets, Jude appeared.
“He’s with us,” Jude told the lady.
“Oh well, in that case, come right in.” The woman smiled at Jude like he’d hung the fucking moon. He was a hometown hero with a silver tongue and, according to Brody, a god complex.
“He thinks he’s the master of the fucking universe.”
They were cousins raised like brothers, so their sibling rivalry was alive and well.
I tossed a twenty in the donation box while Jude greeted Evie like an old friend. Maybe they were. They met at the police station.
I barely remembered that night, thanks to all the vodka. The following day, Jude forced me to go running with him at ass crack o’clock. My sweat had reeked of alcohol, and he said I smelled like a distillery. By the time we’d finished running, I was so nauseous and dizzy that I almost passed out. He told me to drop to the ground and give him fifty pushups. Tough love, McCallister style.
“Is Evie short for Evangeline?” Jude asked.
“Yeah, it is.”
“That was on our shortlist for girls’ names,” Jude said. “It’s a beautiful name. Perfect for you.”
The fuck? Was he flirting with Evie? I side-eyed her as she damn near swooned.
Evie gave him a shy smile and lowered her lashes, flattered by his attention. I was half-tempted to punch him in the face. If not for the fact that I knew he was happily married, not to mentionwaytoo old for her, I would have.
“Thank you,” Evie said.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Jude chuckled under his breath, fully aware I was staking my claim and that jealousy had driven me to do it.
Asshole.
“Everyone’s here. They were waiting for you,” Jude said as he walked us to the McCallister table approximately two miles away from the front door.
“It’s a family dinner?” Evie asked, sounding panicky.
“Yeah. It’s no big deal.” I squeezed her shoulder to reassure her. “We’ll eat and run.”
