Page 18 of Courageous Hearts

“Coming,” I mutter, slapping my brother on the side of his arm before I head back inside.

Mom is pulling off her oven mitts when we enter, and she beams at us. “There’re my boys. Right as rain again.”

Grant and I share an amused look before taking seats at the table, and Sophia gives her husband’s arm a squeeze. He tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek and kissing her chastely, and my heart lightens at the casual display of affection.

It’s easy to tell how much my brother and Sophia love each other, and I’m beyond happy he found that for himself. One thing Grant and I always have agreed on is the importance of family. I only hope he and Sophia are able to add to their own soon. It’s been years of trying already, and I can tell it’s taking its toll on the both of them.

When Mom turns off the radio for lunch, the room falls comfortably silent. She takes a seat across from me at the table before sticking a big serving spoon in the casserole. “So, Jameson,” she says, giving me a smile. “Tell me more about this job of yours.”

My thoughts immediately flit to Bo. To their presence up on stage. To the strength of their voice and the conviction in their performance. To how very defeated they looked in contrast, sitting on that low stool in the storage room with their bright painted lips and mascara-streaked face. To the way they felt tucked against my chest late last night. Broad. Different. But not bad.

To those damn lacy, red briefs, and the generous swell of their ass.

I clear my throat, spooning some chicken casserole onto my plate.

“So, the place is called Gertie’s…”

Chapter 6

Bo

“Gertie’s Cabaret, can I help you?”

I wait in Missa’s doorway as she answers the phone, but as soon as she sees me, she asks the caller to hold. “Yes?”

“One of the bulbs above section five is out. D’you mind if I change it before we open?”

“Not as long as you have someone holding the ladder. You know where the spare bulbs are?” she asks. I give my boss a nod. “All right, then. Thanks, Bo.”

I nod again, and Missa goes back to her call as I step away from her office. Swinging by the storage room, I grab a bulb and tuck it into my pocket before hoisting the ladder. I keep an eye out as I move carefully down the hall with the big metal ladder raised above my head.

When I turn the corner into the main part of the bar, my gaze snags on Jameson. He’s standing next to Dee, setting up the drink garnishes for the night, and when he looks up and catches sight of me at the same moment I’m looking at him, his eyes widen almost comically. He sets down his things before stepping out from behind the bar and jogging my way.

“What’re you doing?” he asks once he catches up with me. He lifts his hands like he’s thinking about taking the ladder, but then his arms fall back to his sides.

“Changin’ a bulb,” I tell him, hiding my amusement at what I suspect is a chivalrous nature. Seems fitting for what I know of Jameson. “Hold the ladder for me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I set it down and secure the tripod, scooting the legs as close to the booth as I can get them. Jameson comes up behind me once it’s ready and grabs the metal sides. I climb up as high as I can go, but even still, I have to lean pretty far to reach the chandelier.

Jameson mutters something below me before saying, “Is that safe?”

“Mhm,” I assure him, holding onto the ladder with one hand while I unscrew the bulb with the other.

When I pull it free, I wobble the tiniest bit, and Jameson’s hand clamps around my calf. My surprised inhale is lost by Jameson’s, “Shit. Careful, Bo.”

“You realize, if I do fall, it’s only two feet to the table,” I point out, a little distracted by Jameson’s tight hold on my leg. His hand is warm, even through the material of my pants.

“Let’s not chance it, okay?”

I glance down, and there’s a furrow between Jameson’s brows, partially hidden by his hair that’s falling out of place. He looks concerned and disheveled, and for some reason, the combo is really doing things to me.

Jameson isn’t for me, I remind myself. The man just wants to be friends.

Putting all of my focus into screwing in the new bulb, I finish up my task before grabbing the ladder with both hands. Even once I’m steady, Jameson doesn’t remove his grip.

Does he realize he’s still holding onto me? Would it be weird to just…let him for a little while longer?

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