right by her. Maybe Evan wouldn’t kill him. Kane might still try, if Braden didn’t beat them to it. He looked like he’d considered it.
By the time they reached the pick-up truck, Braden held Frank Sanders by the collar.
“Boy, does your daddy know you’re out here at our place tonight?”
Kane’s neck pulsed with anger, his bright red face showed the color of fury even in the dark night. “Of course he doesn’t. You think old man Sanders would want him out here fucking around with a minor?”
“Two days,” she reminded him as she wiggled her head back into a T-shirt. “Two days, and if I’d only had a lick of sense, I would’ve been free as a bird in two freakin’ days.”
“Well, too bad, Peyton. You signed up for a year of Cartwell supervision and you’re going to get your money’s worth. Now hop out of the truck now,” Braden demanded.
Braden’s patience wore thin tonight and Evan tried to imagine the why behind it. What he’d seen and what he’d heard coming from the truck might provide plenty of cause and reason for it. When it came to Peyton, he usually found a way to remain calm at all costs. Evan and Kane liked to rib him about it too.
Peyton kissed Frank on the cheek. “Tell your daddy I’m sorry.” She winked at him before she added, “And tell him when I’m eighteen, I might even make it up to him if he won’t throw the book at ‘cha.”
“Damn it, girl.” Kane yanked her from the pick-up. No one typically interrupted Kane’s beauty sleep for this very reason. He liked a little shut-eye and he proved a man knew how to bitch when he didn’t get it.
Two more days and all bets are off. It’s legal to flirt then, Evan reminded himself as he watched Kane drag Peyton back up to the house. Two more days with a stunt like this and he’d spank her bare bottom.
Braden looked at Frank Sanders like he wanted to kill him. Evan realized Braden would stick him with taking the boy home. He really didn’t want to face old man Sanders at two or three in the morning.
“I got a right mind to kick your ass,” Braden said in a stern voice.
“Mr. Cartwell, you don’t understand,” the teenager began.
“You a minor too?”
“Yes…uh, no, uh…no sir. I’m nineteen.”
“What are you doing in high school then?”
“Parents held me back for sports,” he told them.
“Think they want you out here knocking up some gal and ruining their plans for you?” Braden glared at him.
“Uh, no, sir, not at all.” He groveled for words as he grabbed his shirt from an old tire propped against the tailgate.
“You know she’s under eighteen then?”
“Yes, sir. I knew it when I came out here.”
“Realize I could go see the right people in town and get your dreams shot to hell then?”
“I reckon so,” he choked out.
Evan and Braden exchanged a glance, and Evan leaned over the truck to peer inside.
Braden let the kid off the hook. “From what I hear, boy, you’re kind of like Peyton, got a real bright future ahead of you, scholarships waiting on you when you graduate.”
“Yes, sir, I hope so.”
“So does Peyton, you know,” Braden told the young man with a gleam of pride Evan didn’t miss. “She’s got the world by its throat.”
“Mr. Cartwell, Peyton is the best athlete to come out of these parts. I’m not going to mess things up for her,” he told him.
“Good, good. I’m glad to hear it.”
Again, he looked at his younger brother and shook his head. “Well, kid. I guess you can go on home then. I’m only in my twenties myself and I can understand where you and Peyton might think this is something you want to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
Both men stared at him harder then.
“I mean, no, sir, no, sirs.” Frank didn’t know if he jumped three steps forward or twenty steps back apparently but Evan didn’t mind to show him the way and help him find the right path-away from Peyton.
“Suspect we won’t see you around here for a bit then?”
His mouth twitched. “Would you consider letting me date her?”
“Hell, no,” Evan answered for all of them and Braden’s gaze narrowed on his youngest brother.
“Well, it all depends,” Braden said thoughtfully. “See, I promised her mother a long time ago I’d look after her. I can’t do it if I’m letting some boy grope her in the middle of the night.”
Frank climbed out of the truck and stood between the men. “I understand. Would you let me take her on a proper date then?”
Braden crossed his arms and rubbed his chin. “Then what would I have to worry about? Finding you at the new drive-in with her shirt shoved above her head?” He smiled easy and Evan saw where this was headed. Poor Frank didn’t have a chance.
“Mr. Cartwell…”
“Call me Braden. This here is Evan.”
“Okay, sure. Braden, can I shoot straight with you?”
“Sure, boy. We’d like that a lot. Wouldn’t we, Evan?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’d like to date Peyton.”
“Yup, I got that part,” Braden said.
“Like to fuck her too, wouldn’t you?” Evan questioned.
“You screwing her, boy?” Braden inquired.
“No.”
“Came out here for it though, didn’t you?” Evan asked as he inched closer.
Frank turned his back to Evan-not a smart move-and asked Braden again. “Would it be all right if I took her to the homecoming dance coming up?”
Braden smirked. “On one condition.”
“Okay.”
“Empty your pockets.”
“Do what?” His mouth twisted and turned then. “I don’t keep a lot of money in my pockets.”
“We don’t want your money. We only want to see what you’ve got in them. Hell, look around, we’re not hurting for cash, kid.”
He blinked a few times and slowly turned his front pockets inside out. There in his hand, two foil packets fell into plain sight.
Evan felt like the kid hauled off and hit him in the gut. “You are fucking her, you little prick!”
“No, no…” His hands went up in front of his chest. “Honest to God, I haven’t. I…wanted to sure, but I…”
Evan threw a punch and caught the kid in his right jaw. Braden stopped him from throwing another. Frank stared off in true bewilderment.
“Well, Frank, it’s like this,” Braden explained as he placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder and gave the kid an evil eye. “If you wanted to screw Peyton tonight, you’re going to want the same thing at Homecoming. The answer is no, you may not date Peyton. Come back here again, and I’ll let Kane deal with you. He throws a harder hit than Evan.”
Peyton wiggled and squirmed all the way to the house. If she was a few days older, Kane might have considered the unthinkable. The way she blushed when he touched her made her all too kissable. Then he saw the skin pellets. Tiny little chill bumps ran up and down her arms whenever he gripped her tighter. It told him a lot about her. She wasn’t all too opposed to feeling his hands on her.
“Go ahead, drag me off, throw me in my room! See if I care!”
“I have better ideas for you,” he snapped. And he had them. He conjured up more notions right now than a
