“You mean canine training?” A.J. remembered Rory had spent all her free time volunteering at some big animal shelter in Birmingham every summer growing up, rehabbing dogs to help with adoption.
“Yeah, I mean, she’s practically an animal whisperer,” Jesse answered.
“Well, I hope she does settle down,” Beckett said, worry in his voice. Typical father.
Rory was Rory—a carefree spirit who hated being tied down. If she ever decided to get hitched, the boys would step up and ensure the man was worthy of someone like her. She was practically a sister to A.J. And as for Ella, he had to make sure Brian was the right match for her, which was basically why he’d recruited his buddies to create the mission earlier. Of course, things had gone a bit south after he whacked his head on what he was now calling a small-sized boulder to make himself feel better about it.
“You call this a bachelor party weekend?” Brian slapped his hands together, forcing a change in conversation, one centered back on him. Bull’s-eye.
Brian. Damn, damn Brian.
He was a banker from Mobile. VP of some fancy place, the kind that had put many of the mom-and-pop banking operations out of business, which had drawn the Hawkins brothers’ immediate distaste. Brian had a tall, lean frame. Not much in the way of muscles. Black glasses perched on a wide nose. Dark hair closely cropped. Clean-shaven when clearly beards were supposed to be “in” from what A.J.’s niece declared, pointing to A.J.’s beard at breakfast while reading Vogue. And why was Beckett letting her read that?
“What are you getting at?” Wyatt spoke up before anyone else could, but A.J. was certain they were all thinking the same thing.
“First, we ate breakfast with your family,” Brian said as if that were a damn crime. “Like more grits and sausage than a man can tolerate. Then, y’all staged some sort of military-type battle—to what—scare the hell out of me from marrying Ella Mae? Then, we spent an hour while you all tried to convince A.J. to see a doctor when it’s clear he’s a stubborn ass and won’t. Then back to the Hawkins house for dinner. Who does all that for a bachelor party?” He gathered a breath after cataloging their day’s events as if the guys had partaken in the activities but were currently suffering from amnesia. Okay, given A.J.’s head bump, maybe that was fair. “And now we’re at the local tavern where the ratio between male to female is pathetic. Where are the strippers?”
Beckett abruptly stood from the table, his chair falling over, but Finn was quick and positioned it back upright. “Say what?”
“I’m kidding. Relax.” Brian held his palms open and patted the air as Beckett hovered at his side. The sheriff appeared grumpier than his normal grumpy self.
“No worries. We’ll be heading to my place soon to party,” Caleb said while standing, trying to diffuse the situation. “But no strippers. You’re marrying our baby sister, so you won’t be stuffing bills, or anything for that matter, in, on, or near any woman.”
Beckett leaned in closer to Brian. “Ever again.” He left off the Am I clear? but it was heard loud and clear.
And based on the daggers Jesse was now shooting Brian’s way, A.J. wouldn’t be surprised if Brian faked a headache and hopped in his car to head back to his home in Mobile.
Brian swallowed. “Understood.”
Beckett sat back down, and Caleb hesitantly returned to his seat as well. The tension was still palpable, and from what A.J. could tell, “Perfect Brian,” as his mom called him, was far from perfect.
Beckett had warned everyone Brian wasn’t right for Ella even before A.J. had returned for Christmas. But Beckett didn’t like anyone.
However, when A.J. had come home only to have Brian steal Ella away on CHRISTMAS DAY to take her to Tahiti . . . A.J. realized Beckett was right.
But damn it, Ella was happy. And if Ella was happy, A.J. wanted to be happy for her, too.
But Brian? Fucking Brian? A.J. doubted the guy would be brave enough to even kill a spider, let alone protect Ella from any trouble. The cocky attitude A.J. had witnessed all day had been backed by bullshit.
“So, um, how is it that we Southern boys managed to school a bunch of former SEALs today?” Brian asked as if trying to lighten the mood, but did the man not know better than to poke a bear? “If you ask me, you guys don’t look all that rough and tough.”
A devious, all-too-familiar smirk traveled over Chris’s lips. “We’re more of the triathlete variety than the bodybuilding type. And if you’re not satisfied with the turn of events today, we’d be happy to challenge you to something else.”
A.J. removed his cowboy hat and pressed the heel of his hand to the back of his head where the bandage was taped.
Refusing to go to the doctor. Typical Teamguy, his sister had yelled at him over the phone after Caleb narced on Beckett for shooting him.
“We really do need to liven this night up, though,” Brian said after a few more awkward moments passed during which Chris and Finn made a few jokes about the paintball fight today. They’d purposely discussed maneuvers that had gone right over Perfect Brian’s head. “I mean, the bachelor party my best man threw me in Vegas last weekend was—” Brian let go of his words, squeezing his eyes closed as if shocked he’d outed himself. “I mean, the work conference I had to attend that sort of turned into a bachelor thing . . .”
“Come again?” Jesse asked, slowly placing his palms on the table, readying to stand as Shep extended an arm to block him. It was clear Shep knew Jesse was itching to throw down with Brian. A.J. had his reasons for not liking Brian, which were mostly based on his gut, but he had a feeling Jesse knew a bit more, especially since he’d initiated the “let’s get to know the real Brian” bachelor party weekend.
The base of Brian’s neck grew a touch red as everyone at the table stared at him like he was an enemy combatant with an RPG in hand they needed to take down.
“That’s why your best man and other friends declined our invitation to join us this weekend? It’s because they threw you another party already?” A.J. had forgotten all about the knot on the back of his head now. Maybe he’d even join Jesse in fighting Brian. He preferred his gun to hand-to-hand combat, but he’d make an exception in this case.
It’d been weeks since he’d shot someone, why not Perfect Brian?
He could bury the body out back at Caleb’s place, and no one would know.
“It wasn’t planned. I work with my best friends, and we were all in Vegas for work, so we decided—why not have some fun?” An attempt at smiling loosened the scared-shitless expression from Brian’s face.
“Hangover movie kind of fun?” Caleb asked, and he and Shep were on their feet, no longer the guys trying to calm the crowd.
“I swear,” Brian started, “I would never cheat on your sister.” His hand went to his heart. “Nothing happened.”
“What hotel were you at?” A.J. asked.
“What?” Brian gulped. “Why?”
“So I can pull the surveillance and ensure you were a good boy.” A.J. smiled, the bourbon and his ghost-memory encounter earlier taking a back seat to his sudden desire to wipe the nervous grin from the man’s face.