Page 29

After walking Nell home, Barrett kicked off his shoes as he walked back into the house, pretending he wasn’t aware that Ron sat on the couch, eyeing him.

Their practice had gone smoothly, despite what had happened the night before.

She didn’t mention anything about what he’d said, which was . . . good. He guessed.

“How many times has that girl been here?” Ron asked as Barrett threw his keys onto the counter.

He wasn’t exactly going out of his way to hide Nell from his uncle, but he sure wasn’t planning on him finding out. For good reason.

“Just a few.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re still drooling over her after all these years.”

Two years since he graduated. Ron made it sound like ten.

“It isn’t like that.”

“Better not,” Ron said and put down the newspaper he might or might not have been reading. “I don’t trust her.”

Barrett frowned. “Lessons, Ron. Just lessons. I’m teaching her guitar.”

“So no other reason at all?”

“Are you planning on giving me the sex talk? Because, if so, you’re like five years too late.

” He sighed and dropped onto the couch next to Ron.

“You don’t need to worry. She’s not interested.

She wants to learn how to play guitar, so I offered to teach her, and sometimes she hangs out with us. It’s not a big deal.”

A sour frown twisted Ron’s lips as he lifted his coffee mug and sipped. “I’m guessing her parents don’t know.”

“No duh. They’d have a mob after us if they did.”

“She’s bad news.”

“That’s what everyone says about us.” Barrett scoffed. “Nell’s nice. She’s not scared of us. The guys love her. I don’t see what the harm is.”

This time Ron sighed, setting down his mug, and turned a stern eye on Barrett.

Despite raising him, Ron rarely took on the grim role of a protective parent.

But right then, he had the making of a blood father, ready to teach his son a lesson.

“That girl has been through shit. The kind of shit that sticks with you. You can’t just wipe it off and move on; eventually, it becomes contagious.

I can’t tell you what to do or not do, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. So . . . be smart.”

Barrett was tempted to argue. Ron barely knew Nell, so how could he judge her based on rumors?

Barrett kept his mouth shut, however, when he saw the concern in Ron’s gray eyes, and he nodded. “I’m always smart.”

Ron raised a brow. “When you want to be.”