Page 8 of The Triple Threat

Laughing at the name, I looked at the next one “‘I would smash the shit out of you, can I have your number?’ Yep, he’s a keeper alright. What picture did you put on here? Please tell me not your real one.”

“Oh God no.” She laughed. “It was the one of my mom when she was seventeen and had just won Miss Congeniality at the Galveston Beauty Pageant.”

“Bronte!”

“What? She won’t know and I’m closing the account down in a week.”

“Why a week?” I asked as my eyes went back to the screen.

“Because that’s when the new season of Outlander starts so I’ll be bored until then. What?” she asked when I shook my head. “Jamie is fucking hot.”

“He reminds me of Carter.”

Bronte shuddered. “Ugh, now who’s being sick and weird.”

I tsked and went back to reading her messages, smacking down the lid on the laptop when they hit an all-time low with the guy who wanted to slap her ass with pizza dough.

When we pulled up at the Jackson’s house, the first thing I saw was Ellie’s shit colored car. It was parked badly, almost a foot from the curb and with the front end stuck out; pretty much how she always parked it. With a sigh, I pulled up behind it and turned to Pop.

“So, have a great night.”

“Gee, thanks sweetie,” Jojo, his new girlfriend chirped from the back seat. “We’ll see you later.”

“You are still okay to pick us up?” Pop asked.

I nodded and cleared my throat as two arms came around his neck and long, red nails scratched through his beard.

“I’m so excited to meet your friends, Jeff.”

I frowned.

“Jeff?” I mouthed silently to Pop who gave me a tight smile before he reached into the footwell for the booze he’d brought along. As the two bottles of JD clinked in the bag, Jojo giggled.

“I think it’s going to be a good night. You sure the girls will like what I bought with me though?” she asked and held up a box of wine.

Pop had said that she was classy, but in the forty-five minutes I’d known her there wasn’t an awful lot of class evident. To start with—and I didn’t want to be judgey—but I’d never seen a catsuit quite like it outside of an 80’s Cher video, and once she’d tottered down her path in her leopard print shoes, she’d kissed the life out of my pop, in the middle of her street, with tongues. Finally, there was the box of wine which had ‘Multiple not to be sold separately’ stamped across it. I knew this because she had pretty much pushed it in my face to ask what I thought of it, and that was before Pop had even introduced us.

“You not coming in to say hello?” Pop asked.

I looked at Ellie’s car and shook my head. I could do without her and Bronte’s snark for one night. It’d been a long day, one of the bull calves had got caught in the barb-wire fence and cut itself badly. I’d had to call Carter in to come and dress the wound to make sure it didn’t become infected and we lost money.

“I’m gonna go home to check on the calf and then watch some T.V. Call me when you’re ready for a ride back.”

“Okay, son, and I promise it won’t be late.”

“You could stay at mine, Jeff. I could ask my neighbor Brian to come get us. It would save Hunter the journey,” Jojo said with a grin.

I held my breath and waited to hear if Pop said yes. If he did it would mean he really liked her. I knew that because he never ever stayed over at a woman’s house and had only ever let one woman stay over at ours—Wailing Wendy—and even then, they’d slept in our spare room. He didn’t seem to want to have anyone in Mom’s bed just yet.

“No honey,” he replied, clearing his throat. “We have an early start in the morning, and I couldn’t impose on your friend.”

Jojo didn’t seem worried by it but gave his beard one last scratch before she flung open the truck door and jumped out.

I turned back to check she’d got out okay and caught sight of a red bra and a huge amount of cleavage as she leaned in to retrieve her box of wine.

Anxious that I’d let my eyes linger too long on my pop’s girlfriend’s assets, I quickly shot my gaze back to Ellie’s poop colored car.

“Please come in,” Pop growled from beside me. “I’m nervous.”