Jake didn't turn, even as his gut clenched.
“That shit only worked on me in college. I'm a big grown-up now, and Branna can talk and interact with whomever she wishes.”
“Bullshit,” Ethan whispered.
“Hey, Jake, what you after?”
“Faith,” Jake acknowledged the woman who stood before him. She had the Harris dark skin and hair and fine delicate features. “Two beers for me and the idiot, thanks.”
“Ethan Gelderman.” Ethan stuck out his hand and gave his patented smile, which Jake was pleased to see Faith ignored and turned back to him after giving his friend’s hand a good hard pump.
“Your mom and dad were in here earlier. They said Katie's coming home for a few days.”
“Holidays are soon, so she's going to spend them here with us.”
“Be good to see her.” Faith walked away, and Ethan sighed. “What’s your problem now?” Jake asked him.
“The women in this town are way too pretty, and they all seem to have attitude.”
“You mean they all seem immune to the patented Ethan Gelderman brand of charm.”
“There's no lying, it's a strange thing, McBride. Like some kind of parallel universe where I'm invisible.”
Jake laughed as he paid Faith for the beers. “Faith, give this man a compliment, will you? He's feeling insecure.”
“You have good teeth.” Faith Harris then walked away, leaving a devastated Texan at his side.
“Teeth! All she could come up with was my teeth are nice. I'm a broken man, McBride, my pride lying in shredded remnants at my feet.”
“Well, step over the mess, buddy. We got beers to drink.”
They walked to where the others had gathered, and Jake seated himself beside Buster, next to him was Branna, Newman, the man he didn't know, and then Annabelle. Ethan took the space beside her.
“Evening all.” Jake smiled around the table, not letting his eyes rest on Branna for any longer than the others.
“This is Oliver Rendell. He's visiting from England,” Newman made the introductions. “Jake McBride and Ethan Gelderman the 5th.”
Ethan rolled his eyes as he shook the man's hand. His name was a constant source of amusement to Buster and Newman.
Jake sat back as he took a mouthful of beer, his eyes settling on Branna. She was talking to Annabelle. Her lemon dress had two thin, little shoulder straps and a fitted top that sat low on her breasts, exposing soft, slender shoulders and a cleavage that he'd had his mouth all over last night. The rest of her wasn't visible, as it was under the table, but what he saw was enough to heat him up. She'd pulled her hair into a messy knot on her head and it showed off the delicate line of her neck and curve of her jaw.
“Are you fortunate enough to live in this town also, Jake?”
Jake’s mother had made him watch Jane Austen movies when she’d had no other sucker to do so, and this guy could have stepped right out of one.
“Yes, I was born and raised here.”
“How wonderful, and are you a woodsman too?”
“Too?” Jake looked from the Englishman to Buster, who lowered his eyes.
“Buster and Newman told me they are log rollers, and I must say it sounds a dangerous occupation, and that to do it well one must have perfect coordination.”
Jake leveled his friends a look. Last time they had told a group of tourists they were fire jumpers. This time he was going to teach them a lesson. Sending a silent apology to loggers everywhere, he said, “Unfortunately, no, I failed the log rolling course. You see, to be really good at it, you have to stand in ice cold water for long periods of time, and that does things to your…” Jake looked down at his groin briefly before continuing. “Over time, things fail to work as well as they once did, and eventually you’re unable to rise to any challenge, Oliver. Loggers have even lost their, ah, drive permanently. So, you see, it takes a devoted and dedicated man to give that up.”
Jake shot Branna a look; she was staring into her glass of wine with her top lip clamped firmly between her teeth.
“Well, I must say, you are to be commended for such dedication, gentlemen,” Oliver said politely.
