Not once had Brinley wrestled with a sibling. She couldn’t imagine her sister even getting her clothes dirty. And her brother the muscle factory would have had her pinned in seconds.

Cleaning trash cans sounded smelly and gross.

“My mother would give us a timeout but I didn’t get punished very often. There wasn’t much trouble to get ino and I didn’t have a smart mouth or anything.”

In fact, Brinley had always tried to make her parents happy, not give them a hard time.

Jason glanced at her before returning his gaze to the road. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard, honey. You need to raise some hell. And I think I know just that place.”

Grinning from ear to ear, he quickly changed lanes and did a U-turn on the two lane road. Her pulse quickened at the idea of doing something exciting. Something…naughty.

“Did Logan say something to you?”

“No, should he have?”

The sun was setting behind the trees and normally she’d be in for the evening, either reading or maybe watching television. But not tonight. She was going to do something out of the ordinary and with this very extraordinary man.

“I–I just mentioned that I didn’t want to play it safe so much. I wanted to take a few chances,” she admitted. “Not anything dangerous. Just not be so predictable all the time.”

“I don’t think you’re predictable in the least,” Jason declared. “And this won’t be dangerous, I promise. We’re going to have some fun. I think we both need it after the last several days thinking you were in danger. Now that we know that you’re not we can relax and enjoy ourselves. Do you trust me?”

She’d trusted him with her life, so trusting him with some fun was a no-brainer. She couldn’t wait to raise some hell with the best looking man in Tremont.

Bring it on.

*

The beat from the band inside could be felt all the way to the sidewalk. Brinley’s hand was firmly entwined with Jason’s but her heart was still racing with trepidation. The sign outside the building said this was “Harley’s Honkytonk. Good eats, cold beer, and pretty girls.”

“You’ll love this place,” Jason assured her as he pulled the door open and a blast of music almost knocked her on her ass. He had to lean down right next to her ear so she could hear him. “Some friends of mine play here every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night.”

“We’re going to dance?”

She let Jason lead her through a labyrinth of tables and people, all of whom seemed to know him. Several times someone yelled out his name or slapped him on the back. She could feel the eyes of the patrons looking her over, probably to decide if she measured up to the other women he’d brought here. Or even if she was attractive enough to be one of the “pretty girls” the neon sign outside had boasted of.

The song ended and the thirsty dancing couples seemed to move as a unit toward the bar, leaving a pathway to a large table near the stage. Jason pulled out a chair for her as three of the men from the band greeted Jason as if he were their long-lost brother. After they’d ribbed him about how long it had been since they’d seen him, he placed his hands on Brinley’s shoulders.

“Guys, I’d like you to meet Brinley Snow. Brinley, this is Floyd Martin, he plays bass. That’s Henry Gatille, he plays drums. The tall one there is Chance Morton, he plays keyboards, and the ugly one bringing the beers is Zeke Dougal. He’s on guitar.”

“I ain’t near as ugly as you,” Zeke laughed and hugged Jason after handing out the longnecks. “Where in the hell you been lately? Sunday nights aren’t the same without you.”

Brinley shook hands with the men who all seemed nice and normal. She’d never known anyone who played in a band but these men seemed just like regular guys. Jason had good taste in friends.

“Getting the business started has been a lot of work.” Jason sat in the chair next to Brinley’s and signaled for the waitress. “You know how it is.”

The pretty blonde server leaned in, her bosom on full display in her low-cut white blouse she’d paired with a skin tight black skirt that showed a great deal of thigh.

“Hey, Jason. We’ve missed you in here.” The waitress’s voice was husky and seductive, and Brinley couldn’t help but stiffen with indignation as the woman licked her lips in invitation.

To Jason.

The man that Brinley was with. Was she invisible or something? Or so ugly no one would believe that she was with a man as sexy as Jason Anderson? Maybe they thought she was some pity date or that he’d lost a bet.

“Nice to see you, Nell.” Jason’s arm settled around her shoulders, pulling her chair closer so she was sitting between his splayed legs while his other hand rested on her bare knee, his breath warm on her neck. “Honey, what do you want to drink?”

“Um, I guess a beer.” She had a feeling this bar didn’t serve too many of the martinis she’d been fond of in Chicago. In fact, she was quite out of place. She’d never been to a place called a honkytonk and it was clear that the waitress wished Brinley wasn’t there at all.

Jason smiled and leaned down so his words were only for her. “Can you do Jake a favor and order something exotic? He’s always complaining that he never gets to make a real cocktail around here. He moved here from New York and had some nightclub there. What did you order in Chicago?”

“A Cosmopolitan,” she admitted, keeping her voice low. “But I’m okay with a beer, Jason.”

“Jake will love it.” Jason chuckled and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, leaving heat in its wake. “Nell, we’ll have a longneck and a Cosmopolitan. Also bring a large cheese pizza and a bucket of hot wings.”

“We just ate.” Brinley eyed Jason’s trim and muscular form in shock. He had to have the metabolism of a bumblebee.

“That was over two hours ago. Besides, you can’t come to Harley’s without trying the pizza and wings. They’re legendary in these parts.”

Zeke raised his bottle with a grin. “The sauce is so hot it’ll put hair on your chest.”

That was the last place she wanted to grow hair. Like most females, she spent more than her share of time ridding herself of hair in the regular places.

“So how do you all know each other?” Brinley asked as Nell sashayed toward the bar, several male admirers in her wake. What Brinley wouldn’t give to be that sexually confident. The woman knew she was beautiful and played it for all it was worth.

“We grew up together,” the man named Chance said. At least she thought it was Chance. The introductions had happened so fast it was all a blur. “And of course we all played on Tremont High’s football team.”

“You were a football player?” Brinley elbowed Jason, who looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him. “What position?”

“He was the pretty boy quarterback,” Zeke snickered before Jason could answer. “We were his offensive line. He’s the reason I can tell when it’s going to rain because my knee hurts.”

“If it hadn’t been for me it would have been for someone else. You could have played quarterback if you wanted to. Everybody got the same chance to try out.”

It didn’t appear that the ribbing bothered Jason in the least. Brinley guessed it wasn’t the first time he’d heard it.

“So did the team do well?” Brinley asked, remembering when her own brother’s high school football team had won the state championships his junior and senior year. It was a big moment in a young man’s life.

Everyone’s face fell except for Chance’s. He threw back his head, laughing at her seemingly innocent question. “We sucked. Really badly. I think our best record was four and four. But that didn’t stop us from having a good time.”

The drinks were slid in front of them, Nell lingering a little longer when she placed the bottle in front of Jason.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” she purred in Jason’s ear before drifting to the next table.