Carnal Compromise (13 page)

“He still in the service?” Joe asked.

“No, he’s an airline mechanic in Chicago now. I haven’t seen him since the funeral. But enough about me,” she said briskly. “It’s your turn to talk for a while. Where are you both from? How’d you get into custom farming?”

Neither of them answered at first, and they challenged each other with expectant looks until Brent sighed. “I’m from Goodland, Kansas, and farming runs in my family.”

She gave him a reproachful look. “That’s all you’ve got to say after I spilled my guts?”

“What?” He gave an exaggerated shrug. “My dad and two of my stepfathers were farmers.”

“Two of your stepfathers? How many did you have, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Four. So far.”

“So far?” she parroted again. “Are you expecting another?”

“With Mom, it’s always a possibility. I hear the last one died a few months ago and she’s not one to let grass grow under her feet.”

The dark, rainy weather made the atmosphere inside the pickup seem even more intimate. When she squirmed in her seat again, Joe shifted his arm from its spot along the top of the backrest and pulled her against his side. After a quick glance up at his face, she turned and settled back into him.

“Did you move around a lot as a kid?” she asked Brent.

“Yeah. It was good conditioning for running a custom farming outfit. I’m not sure I’d know what to do if I was planted in one place for more than a few months at a time.” Not that he didn’t have a place to plant himself should he feel the urge. Besides his home place, he’d invested in a lot of farm land in and around Goodland over the past twenty years, most of which one of his brothers rented. When and if he was ever ready, he could settle down and farm for no one but himself.

“What about you, Joe?”

He looked out the window for a second before saying, “Midlife crisis.”

She leaned up and turned to look at him. “What kind of crisis?”

“The kind where you sell off everything you own and go see the world.”

“You guys drive me crazy,” she said, flopping back against him with a grunt. “I can tell what you’re not saying is way more important than what you’re telling me.”

Joe looked down at her disgruntled face. “Guess your mama didn’t raise no dummies, did she?”

“No, she did not.”

“My wife divorced me,” he finally said, “and I didn’t feel like hanging around drinking beer and staring at an empty house for the rest of my life.”

Brent’s chest constricted. That was more than Joe had ever told him. Oh, he knew Joe had been married—he’d let slip something about his wife when he’d had a few shots one night, but he’d never anything more than that.

“I’m sorry,” AJ said softly. “I’m divorced, too. It sucks.”

Joe gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Bad one?”

“Not really. It happened a long time ago, and it was a mutual decision, no fighting or anything. But it’s never easy when the future you see for yourself gets derailed by things that are beyond your control.”

That explained even more about her. Brent would have liked to fish for details, but he hadn’t been too forthcoming himself, and really, it wasn’t any of his business. Joe looked grim, but AJ snuggled back against him and soon drifted off to sleep.

At first Joe held her almost gingerly, afraid that he’d wake her up if he moved. But after almost an hour of sitting in the same position, his joints and muscles started to ache. Taking care not to jostle her any more than he had to, he ducked out from under the shoulder belt and turned to lean against the door and pulled her more comfortably against him, letting himself enjoy this small taste of intimacy and trust. Letting himself pretend for just a little while that he was worthy of a woman like this.

When they drove into Sioux Falls, he declared it was his turn to buy lunch and he wanted steak.

Yawning and stretching, AJ pointed out, “It’s been a while since I bought you guys lunch. It should be my treat today.”

“Forget it,” Joe said. “You’re saving every penny.”

“Well, I can at least buy my own.”

“Quit arguing, AJ. I’m buying today.”

She gave him a narrow look that said she didn’t appreciate his domineering ways but let it slide as she grabbed her down vest out of the backseat.

Lunch was uncomfortably quiet, but that’s what happened when you tried to keep your business your own—nobody wanted to put anybody else on the spot for fear of being next. If AJ hadn’t been there, he and Brent would probably have been making kinky plans for Hake and Mandy. As it was, he mostly sat there trying to anticipate AJ’s reaction to their involvement with the Stivers, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. For a farmer, she was sure an unpredictable little thing.

After lunch, they pulled into the gas station right next door to the restaurant. Brent went inside to pay and make one last pit stop while Joe filled the tank. As he stood there with his hand on the nozzle, a beat-up sedan pulled in on the other side of the pump and a pimple-faced young man in baggy jean shorts and a hoodie got out, leaving the engine running. When he reached for the nozzle, Joe tensed. For Christ’s sake, he had a sleeping toddler in the backseat!

“What are you, stupid?” He pointed at the sign plastered to the canopy’s column. “Turn off the engine.”

The kid gave him a “screw you” look and picked up the nozzle.

“Are you trying to get us all killed?” Joe growled, his chest tightening as his heart began to pound in his ears. “Turn it off. Now.”

Acting as if he hadn’t heard a word, the kid shoved the nozzle into his tank. Before he could lift the lever, Joe was on him. Shaking with rage, he shoved the scrawny little bastard aside and opened the driver’s door to turn off the ignition.

“What the fuck!” the kid yelled, grappling against his back. “Get the hell away from my car.”

Joe took the keys and slipped them into his jeans pocket.

“Give me my fucking keys!”

“You can have them back when you’re done filling up.” He went back to the other side of the pump, but AJ had already hung up the nozzle and replaced the gas cap.

“You can’t keep his keys, Joe,” she told him quietly.

“Watch me.” He leaned back against the pickup door, his arms crossed over his chest. “Someone’s got to keep that little girl safe.”

“Listen to her, old man. You can’t keep my keys.” The little prick pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling the cops.”

“You do that. While they’re here, I’ll report how you disregarded the posted signs and endangered the lives of everyone here, including your daughter. I’m sure social services would be happy to put her in a safer home.”

“I didn’t endanger anyone, you asshole. It’s fucking cold out here and it’s raining. I’m trying to keep my kid warm, not kill her.”

Joe just stared at him. “She’s not going to develop hypothermia in the five minutes it takes to fill up, dickhead. The law says you turn off the engine, so fill up while it’s off and then I’ll give you the keys.”

The guy stared back for a minute and then slapped the phone shut and filled his tank, swearing under his breath the whole time. When he’d replaced the nozzle, he held out his hand and Joe dropped keys into his palm.

“Fuck you very much,” the guy muttered as he stomped past Brent.

Even from inside the C-store, Brent could feel the tension between Joe and the kid on the other side of the pump. He got through the line and paid as quickly as the clerk would let him and then made it out in time to hear the guy’s parting shot.

“What’s going on?” he asked, exchanging a wary look with AJ as he folded the receipt and tucked it into his wallet. It wasn’t like Joe to let himself get pulled into an altercation, let alone one with some urban beanpole who probably couldn’t wrestle his way out of a seed sack.

“Just trying to keep that little girl safe,” Joe muttered, spearing his fingers through his hair. “Asshole wouldn’t turn off the engine to fuel up.”

Brent finally noticed the child asleep in the backseat and nodded. That explained Joe’s tension—he’d never known anyone more fanatical about safety. Made a guy wonder just what had happened to make him that way.

“Jesus, I can’t believe he’s leaving her alone out here,” Joe went on. “We’re in the middle of a goddamn city and the doors aren’t even locked. How the hell does he know I won’t just snatch her and run?”

“Well, he obviously got a pretty good look at both of us.” AJ watched him quizzically. “And there are cameras all over the place.”

He frowned at her. “Cameras wouldn’t stop some nutjob from killing her. They’d just make it easier to arrest him afterward.”

He kept his eye on the girl while they got into the truck and didn’t relax until her father climbed into the driver’s seat.

AJ grinned as she buckled her belt. “Remind me never to break any safety rules in front of him.”

Joe didn’t even crack a smile. “You, I can spank, little girl, so go right ahead.”

She let it drop without another word.

Five minutes later, Brent pulled into the shoe store he always favored for boots. It didn’t take long to for the clerk to bring out a pair of Red Wings in the same size and style AJ always wore. When she sat down to try them on, he and Joe sat in the chairs on either side of her.

“Don’t you guys have something better to do than watch me try on boots?” She laughed as she said it but she was clearly self-conscious.

Joe grinned. “Afraid the sight of your socked foot will drive us wild with lust?”

She hissed at him as the clerk pulled up a stool in front of her and then studiously ignored him.

The boots fit just fine so she decided to wear them out and keep the old ones for particularly dirty jobs. While the clerk boxed them up for her, they went up to the checkout counter and Joe tossed his credit card down.

Brent held his breath. What the hell was he thinking?

Not surprisingly, AJ scowled and shoved it back at him. “Thanks, but I’ll buy my own boots if you don’t mind.”

“I can afford it.”

AJ’s face went pink. “So can I,” she said tightly.

She dropped her own debit card on the counter. When the clerk hesitated, looking back and forth between them, she told him, “Touch his card and I’ll break your fingers.”

Brent smothered a grin when the young man picked up her card and swiped it without comment. After the transaction went through and she’d signed the slip, AJ grabbed the bag and stormed out the door into the rain.

“You can’t buy me, Joe Remke,” she tossed over her shoulder without looking back. “I’m your fuck buddy, not a damn prostitute.”

He scowled as he shrugged by a wide-eyed spectator on the sidewalk.

“Prostitute!” He grabbed her by the arm and swung her around. “For God’s sake, woman, I’m not trying to buy you!”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing! I don’t see you buying lunch or boots for Seth and Tim or any of the other guys.”

“And I don’t see you making lunches and doing dishes for any of the other guys,” he fired back. “You can do nice things for us, but I can’t do nice things for you?”

“There’s a difference, Joe,” she said tautly. “I did that stuff for you guys
before
we started sleeping together.”

When he couldn’t think of a comeback, she pounced. “Aha! See? You’re paying me off.”

Jerking free of his hold, she spun around and headed for the pickup again.

Joe finally looked at Brent. “Help me out here?”

Fighting a belly laugh, Brent held his hands up. “I’m staying out of this one.” But he couldn’t help the big grin that spread over his face as he followed her to the truck. Joe was really getting his cage rattled today. “Give him hell, AJ.”

Joe rolled his eyes as he climbed in the passenger door. “Jesus, you actually agree with her?” he asked as he shook the rain off his cap.

“I think,” Brent said carefully, giving him a measured look before he cranked on the ignition, “that you like to be in control of every situation, and that you don’t like to feel like you owe anyone anything.”

Joe smashed the cap back onto his head. “Is there a law against that?”

“No.”

“Look, Joe,” AJ said. “I make lunches because I’ve always done it. I did it for my dad, and for all the guys I’ve ever bunked with. I just do it without thinking about it. But if it bothers you that much, I’ll quit, okay?”

Joe looked like he didn’t much care for the sound of that but knew better than to argue with a woman.

“Fine. I’ll make my own damn lunches.”

“Fine. And I’ll buy my own damn boots.”

“Fine.”

“Are you still good with me making yours, Brent?” she asked innocently.

Brent’s could barely contain his mirth as he backed out of the parking space. “Why, I’m just dandy with it, AJ.”

“Thank you.”

Joe narrowed his eyes at them. “I’m gonna spank both your asses.”

Chapter Ten

Two hours later they pulled into Hake’s driveway, and the rain had subsided to a sprinkle for the moment.

Brent eyed the pickup sitting in front of the old Craftsman-style house. “Uh-oh. Maybe I should have called first. Looks like Ryan’s here.”

The university parking pass in the window was a dead giveaway.

AJ’s eyes widened. “You didn’t call ahead?”

“Relax, AJ,” he said. “We’re visiting my cousin, not the Queen of England.”

“Just because he’s your cousin doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a little common courtesy,” she said severely.

He grinned at her. “Fine. I’ll call next time.”

She rolled her eyes as he got out and walked up the steps.

Ryan was already opening the door. He stuck out a hand and Brent shook it before pulling him into a hug and slapping him on the back. “Shit, when did you get taller than me, squirt?”

“You must be shrinking, old man,” Ryan said. “I haven’t grown since the last time you were here. Does Mom know you’re coming?”

“No, I thought I’d surprise everyone.”

“They’ll be surprised all right.” He turned and yelled over his shoulder, “Hey, Mom, it’s Brent!”

Mandy hurried in to the foyer, drying her hands on a towel. “Brent, honey, what are you doing here? Is everything all right?”