Page 58 of Tempt

I’m met with silence.

“Been saving for years,” I shrug, “I decided I’m tired of living in a place where I know when my neighbors are showering.”

“Breaking ground?” Reed crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you planning on using another construction company than the one you work for?”

“Not going big, boss,” I stand, brushing the dirt off my knees. “Figure it was a waste of your time.”

“Bullshit,” he moves toward me, passing only a few feet away. “You’ve had plans drawn up for more than three years, tucked away in a drawer at the office. You and Rhett spent hours working on them. I won’t meddle, I won’t lecture, but what I will tell you is those dreams you’ve had; they will happen. The house you’ve wanted you will have.”

I stare at him.

“You get with Raylynn at the office, and you pick a date.”

“Reed, I—,”

“You get with Raylynn, and you pick a date.” He isn’t budging, but it doesn’t surprise me. He’s said the same thing for years, if any of us need something built, we come to him. Materials we pay for, everything else is covered because family helps family.

I offer a nod, because there is no point in arguing.

“I’m good for the weekend though,” I add and the corner of his mouth tips up. I may do mainly electrical, but I’m always willing to go where I’m needed. Plus I need to keep my mind busy.

Two weeks feels more like two years and that’s how long it's been since I held Kyra. We’ve text, shared a call here or there, but it’s been tense. I can tell her mind is elsewhere and its torture to keep my distance. I want to fix it all for her, but I can’t. She has to work through it all on her own, she has to be right with everything, so she and I can get back to where we were.

“Drinks?” Terrance asks from my left as Landon and Rhett move in too. I look around at all of them and realize how lucky I am to have them all. They are all huge pains in the ass, but they are my family, and they are here, even when I don’t want them to be.

“Fine,” I say walking off toward my truck, “but please shower first, y'all smell like ass.”

* * *

It’s after seven when I finally show up at Mercy. I’d been half tempted not to show, but Mike threatened to show up and drag my ass out of the apartment and I knew he wasn’t bluffing.

My mom gave him the key, so she’s on his side too and though I’d fight Mike, I wouldn’t fight my mother. So the fight was over before it even started.

I walk through the crowd and see everyone gathered at our normal table. Rhett notices me first and then he quickly glances over to his left. I too shift my attention to the very same spot and immediately feel like the wind has been knocked from my lungs. My feet and legs grow heavy as I pause and stare.

Kyra is a few feet away, smiling at Julian as he carries on. His hand gestures, and the widening of his eyes even make me smile. I’ve never in my life met anyone that gets so into a story.

Kyra laughs, her head tilting back as she holds her side.

I’ve missed her laughter, and the way her smile reaches her eyes. Damn... I’ve missed everything about her.

My feet start to move once again and instead of going straight to her I go to the bar.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender leans closer to hear me over the music and I give her my order. She busies herself getting my drinks and I put the money on the bar, telling her to keep the change.

As I turn around I see a waitress moving past me and I gain her attention. “Can you take this to the pretty lady in the red shirt right there?” I hold out the drink and also a five.

“Sure will,” she takes both, “should I tell her who it's from?”

“She’ll know,” I say, and lean back watching and waiting.

From this angle I have the perfect side view, as the waitress steps up and hands her the drink. Immediately Kyra starts to look around and the minute her gaze locks on mine, she bites her lower lip, a shy smile forming.

She says something to the waitress and then to Julian before stepping away and walking in my direction. Leaning back against the bar I want to go to her, but instead I wait. My entire body feels more and more alive with each step she takes.

When she is close, she slows her steps and keeps a very short distance between us, offering me her smile. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Absolutely not,” I say as she brings the drink that I know without a doubt is more vodka than cranberry to her lips. The second the liquid enters her mouth, her eyes widen a bit, but she recovers fast. “Or maybe I am.” I add making her laugh.

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