Page 32 of Average Joe

We loaded the bar. I lay down first, situated myself, then tested my grip. “I’ve searched just about every room.”

“Maybe you’re wrong about the letter.” Frank took his position over the bar.

“It’s possible.” I powered through my first set, then continued. “Attic is stuffed with boxes full of God knows what. Hitting that next.”

“I can help. Con, too.”

“Nah.” I struggled through my second set. “This is my mess, my problem.”

“Your problems are my problems, brother. You know that.” He clapped my shoulder. “How ’bout we get started tomorrow? Then head to the Ram for a bit. We haven’t been out since you came home.”

The Rusty Ram, our old haunt back before we’d become responsible adults. Crowded bars weren’t my jam, but I’d take drunk and horny dickheads over solitude any day. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Great! I’ll give Con a heads-up.” Frank clapped his hands and rubbed them together, his grin sinister. “This’ll be great. Look at you. You’re a beast. You’ll have more pussy than you know what to do with.”

Some things never changed. Frank was not content unless he believed Con and I were getting laid as often as he was.

“You talk like that around Cynthia?” I asked, gripping the bar for my last set.

“Joe, you poor, clueless bastard. Getting you laid was her idea.”

I believed him. His fiancée was a sweetheart. Last week, she’d confided that she couldn’t wait for Connor and me to settle down. Cynthia figured if we had girlfriends, we’d occupy less of Frank’s time.

“Not interested in a hookup,” I breathed through my reps.

Frank chuckled. “Yeah. I heard there’s only one lady you’re interested in right now.”

No surprise Frank knew about my neighbor. “Con can’t keep his mouth shut,” I grunted, my arms trembling on the last push.

“Says you can’t keep your eyes off her.” Frank helped rack the weight.

I rolled to a sitting position, my energy depleted, my head still a mess, images of Marley and all that smooth, sweet skin fresher than ever.

The woman was deadly gorgeous. Independent. She had grit. A warrior’s spirit like Alice. Maybe that was the root of my attraction. My aunt fought from her heart more than her head. Damn, how many times had I come to her rescue? Thing was, I loved Alice fiercely, and whether she’d been right or wrong in her convictions, I’d always backed her up. She’d had nobody else to fight for her, and though I’d known Marley only a minute, it seemed she had no one to fight for her either.

“Doesn’t matter. Marley made it clear she wants nothing to do with me.”

“How so?” he asked, shoving me off the bench and settling in for his set.

“Alice told her I was in prison.”

“But she doesn’t know the reason.” He wrapped his massive hands around the steel.

I stepped behind his head and settled my weight to spot. “And I can’t tell her. So where does that leave me?”

Frank grunted through eight reps. When finished, he said, “If you like this lady, Joe, give her time.” He laughed, then shook his head, brows pinched. Hitting the ceiling with a stern glare, he asked, “Hell, is she even worth your energy? Seems to me she labeled you a monster before getting to know you. Is that the kind of woman you want at your side?”

Frank had a point. Then again, what woman in her right mind would date an ex-con she believed was fresh outta lockup? If I were anyone else, I’d warn her away from me. Still, his observation grated my nerves. “She’s got some walls up. That’s all.” Barriers I intended to breach.

Whether anything came of us or not, I wanted to peel away her layers of pretense and discover what made the feisty woman tick.

Exerting far too little effort, Frank pumped through eight more reps. “Walls, huh? Sounds to me like she has a stick up her ass.”

Funny. I’d told Marley the same thing. “More like a branch.”

Frank laughed again, breezed through his last set, and we moved to the incline bench.

“Seriously, bro,” he huffed, adjusting the back of the chair. “You got it bad for this lady?”

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