Page 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Gray

“Oh, what the fuck?” Holden growled, phone receiver held to his ear.

I paused as I slid the invoice from the latest tow and repair into his inbox. “Something wrong?”

He hesitated, his jaw working. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He stabbed the speaker button, and a message played out loud.

“Hello, this is Emory Gold with Gold Community Bank.”

My heart jolted at Emory’s voice on my brother’s phone. Why was he calling here? Was he looking for me?

Emory’s message continued. “I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He cleared his throat, sounding a little nervous. “We need to discuss your loan paperwork at your earliest convenience. Thank you.”

Click.

So, it wasn’t about me, then. I wouldn’t have minded a call from the gorgeous man, but I should have known better. We lived in two different worlds.

Highlighted by the fact he was calling about a loan—which apparently we owed him.

“Why didn’t you tell me the business was in debt?” I demanded. “I thought shit was just a little tight around here.”

“Because I don’t know anything about a loan,” he said shortly. “But I’m gonna damn sure find out.”

He punched in the number for the bank, reaching a friendly teller named Janine, who patched us through to Emory’s line.

“You’ve reached Emory Gold.”

Damn. Hearing him on the message was one thing, but hearing him now—knowing he was right there on the end of the line—raised goose bumps on my skin. I could almost taste him on my tongue.

“Emory, it’s Holden Cross.” There was a brief pause, and Holden added, “With Forrester Auto.”

A lot of folks in town forgot that our last names weren’t actually Forrester. We were foster kids, all with different names, which was part of the reason we’d created the code amongst ourselves.

I didn’t have the tattoo my brothers did. I’d left before they’d decided to ink it onto their skin. Hell, for all I knew, maybe I was the reason they’d renewed that vow.

But we’d written it in a notebook and all signed our names, like it was an official document or some shit. Just dumb kids looking for a way to make a family.

“Of course I know your name,” Emory said, sounding a little flustered. “I have it right here in the paperwork.”

“So, what’s the deal with this loan? I wasn’t aware of there being one.”

“Oh, you didn’t know? That explains… Well, shit.” Holden’s eyebrow arched at Emory’s quiet curse. “We really should discuss this face-to-face. I don’t want anything lost in translation over the phone.”

“Okay,” Holden said. “When?”

“I’m on my way to lunch, so?—”

“We’ll meet you somewhere,” I cut in. “Our treat.”

Holden shot me a what-the-fuck look.

“Gr-Gray?” Emory stuttered. “I didn’t realize you were on the line.”

“Yep. Holden and I are free, if you are. Meet at Jerkers?”

“All right, sure thing. But it’s my treat.”

Holden hung up. “You know Emory Gold?”

“From high school,” I hedged.

Not that I couldn’t tell Holden the truth. He was the only one of my brothers who knew I was gay.

He’d tracked me down only months after I’d left, intent on dragging me back. I’d had to tell him the whole story so he’d understand why I’d never set foot under our dad’s roof again.

But it wasn’t my place to tell him Emory’s private business.

Holden dragged a hand over his face. “Shit, it’s bad news. I can feel it.”

“We don’t know that.”

He shot me a look. “You really think a loan can be anything but bad news when we’re already operating at a loss?”

Well, when he put it that way…

“We’ll figure out how to fix it, then.”

“ We will, huh?” Holden smirked at me as he stood and grabbed his wallet and phone. “So, when you said you couldn’t promise to stay, were you bullshitting me—or are you bullshitting me now?”

“Neither. I’m not leaving until we figure this shit out, okay? I know what the business means to you.”

He frowned at that but didn’t bother arguing. “Come on. Let’s go.”

We took Holden’s car, because of course he wanted to drive.

“Control freak,” I muttered as I climbed into his gunmetal-gray GTO.

“You couldn’t pay me to get on the back of that bike with you,” he said as he started the engine with a roar.

I’d always be partial to bikes, but as cars went, it was a sexy beast.

“You’d probably throw me off and take control of the handlebars.”

Holden grinned as he shifted into gear and pulled out onto the highway. “Lucky for you, I wanted to take the car, then.”

The banter had been a nice distraction, but soon a tense silence filled the car. Holden drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

I bit back the urge to reassure him. I didn’t know shit until we saw Emory—and that was a whole other can of worms that wound me tighter the closer we got.

Would Emory look down on me, like some poor asshole who needed to beg for a handout to run his business? But what did I care? He’d just been slumming it with me the other night. I made out with the guy, answered some questions about his sexuality.

We weren’t going steady.

My high school crush was turning me into a silly kid.

Holden parked in front of the old-school soda shop. A red-and-white striped awning extended over the sidewalk, and the large plate-glass window advertised “MoonShakes! Corndogs! Harvest Fries!”

“Damn, I haven’t had a MoonShake in…”

“Ten years?” Holden said.

“Yeah.”

“Well, at least if we’re fucked, we can gorge on ice cream,” he muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”

I opened my door and followed him through the chrome door. Inside, cherry red-and-chrome stools lined the counter—most of them full as the lunch crowd surged in. Teal-colored tables were arranged over the black-checked floor.

Emory sat at one near the front window, his charcoal suit tailored into a snug fit that molded to his shoulders and outlined his trim shape. A purple tie brought out the darker shades of his blue eyes.

Unlike Saturday night, his hair was smooth and unruffled. He looked every inch the respectable businessman.

And damn, but I wanted to run my hands through his hair and mess him up all over again.

I wasn’t the only one either.

A petite blonde in capris and a flowery blouse leaned over him so much her breasts were practically begging to be admired. She placed a long-nailed hand on his arm, trying to hold his attention as he glanced up.

Did he feel me staring?

Possibly glaring.

“Who is this handsy bitch?” I muttered as we cut across the room, my eyes never leaving Emory.

“She’s Hailey Peterson, the biggest Realtor in town. What is wrong with you?”

I scowled. “Nothing.”

“Are you shitting me right now?”

“What?”

“We’re about to meet about the future of our fucking business, and you’ve got a hard-on for the guy?”

“Lower your voice,” I growled. “I don’t think half the town heard you.”

Holden winced. “Sorry, but Gray, tell me you didn’t come here to hit on our banker.”

“I didn’t.”

“Because this isn’t the time.”

“I know.”

“Not that there’s, you know, anything wrong with flirting another time. I just?—”

“I get it, Holden,” I said shortly. “No playing footsie under the table.”

I reached Emory first, maybe a little too motivated to move Hailey along. She glanced at me, then did a double take. “Have we met?”

“Gray Marsh. Emory and I have a meeting.”

“Marsh.” She frowned. “Why don’t I know that name?”

Holden arrived just then. “He’s my brother.”

“ Oh. You’re Forresters!” She turned back to Emory. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair. As soon as you decide you’re ready, give me a call, honey. I’ll take good care of you.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Hailey. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He was polite, but there was something reserved about him I hadn’t seen on the roadside. Had he just been so rattled by Dallas that he’d lost his composure—or was he more himself because he’d gotten to shed the polite mask?

“Sit down, please,” he said. “Sorry for the holdup. Hailey is…”

Horny?

“Friendly,” he said.

Well, that was one way to put it.

Emory wet his lips, and my gaze zeroed in on the small cut on his lower lip. It was nearly healed now. My gaze lingered.

Holden kicked my foot. I shot him a look. “Really?”

Apparently, being touch-averse didn’t preclude him from bruising my damn ankle.

“Can we end the suspense and just talk about this loan?” Holden said. “I wasn’t aware of any lien on the property.”

Emory reached for the satchel on the seat beside him. “Of course. I’ve brought the paperwork. I read through it yesterday, and it appears Mr. Forrester took it out last year.”

“But why?—”

A teenage kid in an old-school jerk hat and name tag that read Neal came up to the table, order pad out. We paused to put in our order for burgers, fries, and MoonShakes—which were basically just shakes with Oreo crumbles created during the era of the moon landing.

“So,” Holden said once we were alone again. “Why is this the first we’re hearing about it? Shouldn’t we have gotten notified sooner?”

“Well, your dad deferred it with an extension, so it was off the radar until now. Unfortunately, it was a balloon loan. That means?—”

“The entire amount is due now?” Holden asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Emory said. “We assumed you knew about the loan since your name was on the deed too, Holden.”

“I never signed off on any loan,” he snapped.

Emory flinched at his tone. “I-I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you want to hear.”

“Holden knows this isn’t your fault.” I pinned my brother with a hard look. “Right?”

He glared right back. “This is serious shit, Gray. I can’t play nice just because?—”

I shook my head, warning him not to go there. “If you want to blame someone, blame the old man.”

“Oh, I do.” Holden gave a ragged laugh. He was usually so composed, the rough edge was scarier than his anger.

Leave it to dear old dad to find one last way to fuck us over.

“Okay, three MoonShakes!” Neal smiled brightly, unaware of the tension at the table. “We’ll have the rest of your food out real soon.”

“Bag it up,” Holden said. “I think we’ll take it to go.”

Neal faltered, obviously sensing something off about Holden’s tone. “Sure thing.” He pulled the order sheet off his pad and set it on the table. “Pay it when you’re ready.”

I took a long pull from my straw, eyes slipping closed as the creamy flavor coated my tongue. It had been a long time since I’d tasted that exact combination of flavors—and it took me right back to my teenage years.

I remembered coming in here and flirting with the female owner while secretly eyeing Emory across the room.

I opened my eyes to find him watching me with a hint of pink staining his cheeks. Things had changed, hadn’t they? He’d never looked back before.

“How much debt are we talking?” Holden asked, jerking me back to the shitty situation at hand.

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

“Fifty. Jesus.” Holden looked like he was going to be sick. “Why would you ever agree to this deal? You had to know he wouldn’t come up with this money.”

Emory looked almost as nauseated as Holden. “He probably planned to, um, sell?—”

“No,” Holden said sharply.

“Maybe it’s the best solution,” I said hesitantly. “You could start fresh. The property is worth more than the debt. You’d come out ahead.”

Holden gave me the coldest fucking look I’d gotten since returning. Colder even than Axel’s accusing gaze.

“We’re not selling the business, so you can fuck off with that bullshit.” His gaze swung to Emory. “And you .”

Emory shrank back in his seat.

Holden took a deep breath and exhaled. “You were trying to give the old man a break. I get that. But you didn’t do us any goddamned favors.”

He shoved his chair back and stomped away, hitting the door so hard that a few people turned with a gasp as he stormed out.

“I’m so sorry,” Emory said in a small voice.

Every person in the whole damn soda shop was staring at us. I couldn’t tip up his chin like I wanted. Couldn’t look into his eyes like I had on that roadside.

I had to use my words, and that was always so much harder.

“He’s not angry with you, golden boy. It’s our old man, you know? This business is everything to Holden.”

Emory looked up. “What about you?”

I shrugged. I’d lost everything once before. It made me cautious about getting attached.

The auto shop, the house, the junkyard. None of it was mine.

“I’m just passing through. Came to help out my brothers. Looks like maybe they need more help than I anticipated.”

Emory lifted a fingernail to his mouth, gnawing at it. I noticed three other ragged fingernails on the same hand.

Apparently, even Emory Gold had bad habits.

I reached out and drew his hand down, giving it a quick squeeze before withdrawing. “Is there anything we can do?”

“I know Holden doesn’t want to sell the business, but you’ve got other property. The house or the junkyard…”

I winced, thinking of Axel’s attachment to the place. That would go over like a lead balloon.

“Maybe we can sell off some equipment instead.”

Emory nodded. “Sure, as long as you get the funds together. I’d offer to refinance it or write a new loan, but it’s unlikely you’d qualify.”

Not surprising. The bank wasn’t going to go out on a limb for us after our old man shit the bed.

“But the foreclosure process is just getting started,” Emory continued. “It takes time to play out, and I’m going to do everything I can to help you figure this out.”

I raised an eyebrow. “It’s not your job to fix this, though, is it?”

“I want to help you. It’s unfair, you all paying the price for Mr. Forrester’s mistakes.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Emory’s forehead creased. “I wish it wasn’t this time either. I wish this wasn’t how we were…”

“Seeing each other again?”

He glanced out the window. “Yeah.”

I bumped his foot with mine. Holden should have stayed if he didn’t want me playing footsie.

“Well, maybe next time we meet up, it’ll be in better circumstances.”

Emory glanced at me uncertainly. “Would you want that?”

“Anytime you’re ready, golden boy. Just come find me.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Sure. Come by the pool hall this weekend, if you’re free. I’ll buy you a drink. We can play a couple of games.”

Maybe one of those games would even involve pool. Who knew?

He licked his lips. “I just gave you terrible news, and you still want to buy me a drink?”

“I know better than to shoot the messenger—especially such a pretty one.” I winked.

Neal returned with the takeout bags of food, saving Emory from a reply, but his blush told me that my flirting had hit the mark.

I said my goodbyes, took the food, and headed out the door, relieved to see the GTO parked in the lot. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Holden left my ass here.

I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

I handed over his bag of food. “It’s okay. This is a big deal.”

“You learn anything helpful after I left?”

“Maybe. We don’t have to lose the business. We could sell something else. We just need to get the funds together to cover the loan. Whatever way we can.”

He grunted. “That’s still shitty.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Anything we sell will hurt.”

“Axel is gonna flip his lid,” he said with a groan. “Let’s hold off on sharing the news, okay? At least until we figure out a plan. I don’t want to worry them.”

I wasn’t sure if that was the best idea, but Holden was the one who’d been here looking out for our brothers, not me.

“Whatever you think is best.”

“Fucking hell!” He glared out the windshield. “I hate bankers.”

“Emory wants to help us figure this out. He’s not the enemy.”

“You fucking him?”

“Not yet.”

He snorted. “So, it’s just a matter of time?”

“That a problem?”

He pulled a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. Chewed and swallowed. “Nope. Your gay dick saving the business would be poetic fucking justice, though. I hope Dad rolls in his grave.”

I choked on a bite of burger. “Dude.”

“Just sayin’.”

I shook my head. “Emory would help either way. That’s just how he is.”

“Because you know him so well a week after returning to town?”

“Sometimes you just know.”

Maybe I was full of shit, maybe not. Either way, Holden didn’t argue, just tore into his burger like a man looking to rip someone up.

Better the burger than me.