Page 8 of Worth the Fight

She finally tucks her phone into her back pocket, and when she looks up, her eyes dart past me, looking out the front window of the shop.

It’s nearly six o’clock, and with winter on its way the sun has started to die for the day. The streetlights have flicked on, and the green glow from The Tipsy Tractor sign across the road reflects off her eyes.

I follow her gaze, curious what has her so distracted, and outside of the window there are a few people walking by. Some stop, pulling open the door for the bar, and the obnoxiously loud country music can be heard even from inside the shop through the hum of tattoo guns. There’s a man I don’t recognize standing alone, dressed in a suit that likely costs more than my truck. He’s on his phone, and judging by the look on his face, it looks like he’s having a miserable conversation.

“Hey, um … I’m going to step outside real quick.” Her eyes dart to the card in my hand that I’m about to hand over to Joe for payment. “I’ll just be a minute, all right?”

Before I can answer, she bolts out the door, the chimes hitting the glass with a clang just as the wind picks up and slams it shut.

“That was weird.”

Joe smirks at that. “It’s Harper, who knows what she’s on to now.”

We schedule my appointment for next week, and I adjust my arm in my jacket as the sting from the tattoo is already starting to itch my skin.

Every few seconds, I catch myself looking out the front window, my eyes glued to Harper and the mystery man across the way. “You know him?” I ask Joe, gesturing to the guy in the suit with my head.

He glances up, then back at the register, but then quickly does a double take. He squints. “You better keep an eye on your sister.”

Harper says something that makes the guy in the suit laugh, and his head tilts back. She leans forward, a hand pressed to his chest, and just when she’s about to pull away, he covers her hand with his. It could be innocent, yeah, a move between friends, but something about that touch is heated. A moment charged with electricity.

“He’s some yuppy from the city. Been hanging around this area the last few years, buying up every property he can at bottom dollar.” Joe steps out from behind the counter and reaches to click off the “walk-ins welcome” sign. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Basically, anyone who can’t afford to keep their farm loses it to him. Word on the street is they’re looking to build a data center around here, one that’ll drain some of the lakes within the next ten years.”

My stomach clenches. Grayson has been grumbling about a land developer he ran into at the bar this last summer. Their conversation was short, from what I could gather, but it was enough to piss Grayson off, and it takes a lot to rile him up.

The conversation outside seems to have dwindled, but Harper takes a step forward, and as she does, the suit’s eyes flick down to her chest. He holds his stare for a minute before looking back up at her, and the blush that crosses her face has me cursing under my breath.

I don’t bother with a pleasant goodbye to Joe before I’m pushing through the front door of the tattoo shop. I barely look side to side before crossing the street, my long legs have me reaching her right as the city fuck is about to open his mouth.

“Harper,” I bark, and she jolts, a hand flying to her chest.

“Cripes, Lukas. You scared the devil out of me.”

I come to stand by her side, angling my body slightly in front of hers. “We haven’t met yet.” I offer a hand to the asshole standing in front of me. “I’m Lukas, Harper’s older brother.”

“Oh my God, Lukas,” Harper mumbles as her hands come out to shove me to the side the best she can.

I have enough rage in me right now that my feet don’t budge, so Harper steps around, placing herself directly between me and the suit guy.

“I'm sorry about him,” she mumbles.

He looks past Harper, who is a head lower than the two of us. He eyes me up for a second, and I take him in.

He’s about my height, and while I have enough muscle on me from the military plus farm life, he’s a bit bigger than I am. More like Grayson’s body type with a suit that looks custom made and a cocky gaze to match.

He carefully extends his hand to grasp mine, and we shake, a silent battle between us of who can squeeze the other’s hand harder.

“Nathanial Brooks,” he says. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Lukas.”

I drop his hand, propping both of mine on my hips. “Wish I could say the same.”

“Excuse my asshole brother,” says Harper, who is still trying to push me away. “He’s brand new and still learning how to be a decent human. We have to go easy on him.”

“I hear you’ve been sniffing around town lately, trying to con some of the older folk into selling you their land.”

He has the audacity to bark out a laugh at that. “There are a lot of rumors about me, Lukas. Some are true, but most aren't. Unless your family is looking to sell your farm, I don’t think there’s anything else you and I have to discuss.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. “Seems like you and Harper have found plenty of things to talk about.”