Read Online Secondhand Smoke (Dartmoor Book 4) by Lauren Gilley - Free Book Online

throat. “It was my fault. I brought – I brought your sister up, and I didn’t think…she was in high school…but he…” She offered a wobbly smile. “That’s the only time I’ve ever been afraid when I was with a man. Until last night.”
                  “Jazz.” He scrubbed at his bristly jaw. “I’m sorry, doll. Honest to God. I never meant to get rough like that. I was drunk, and I’d just gotten some bad news. I’m sorry,” he repeated.
                  She stood and closed the distance between them. Her hands shook a little, but settled on his chest. Her eyes were sad, thoughtful, as she leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “No more than what I deserve,” she whispered as she pulled back, and walked out of the garage.
                  Unhappy and numb, Aidan followed a moment later. Jazz was gone, but his three brothers remained.
                  “So what is this?” Mercy asked. “A meeting of the I-fucked-Jasmine club?”
                  “Proud of your membership?” Aidan asked with a snort.
                  “Nah.” Mercy shuddered dramatically. “I’m a one-woman kinda man. For whom there ain’t ever gonna be a club,” he said, giving them a mock-stern glare.
                  Aidan smirked, but the other two remained stone-faced – Carter out of anger, Tango out of some morose inner turmoil.
                  “Jesus, y’all. What’s with the depression?”
                  “No idea,” Aidan said. “Hey” – he smacked his brother-in-law on the arm lightly – “you wanna come help me scare some dippy kids?”
                  Mercy grinned. “When do I ever not wanna do that?”
     
    ~*~
     
    Tango stared up at the black lettering on the front of the shop for a long time, as if the fresh paint would give him answers. It might – the Dartmoor property was the most organized, well-kept part of his life. Ghost didn’t tolerate shabbiness: When a sign faded, it was painted; if something broke, someone fixed it. If they wanted to be taken seriously, they had to take themselves seriously, he always said. The only paternal voice in Tango’s entire history.
                  The others dispersed, their farewells faint to his ears. Normally at this time of day, he’d head to the clubhouse and see if Jazz would make him a sandwich. Or they’d send a hangaround for takeout, and they’d all eat at a picnic table in front of the shop.
                  Today he felt hollow, and it was an emptiness that didn’t crave food.
                  What would he do, he wondered, if he learned he’d gotten someone pregnant? Weep? Celebrate to know he wouldn’t be alone any longer?
                  Something restless shifted inside him. He needed a day off, he decided. He was too tired, stretched too thin, and it had been a year or more since he’d taken any time off.
                  His feet carried him halfway toward the central office before he registered moving, but it was a good thing, he decided. He’d earned a little breather.
                  What for? Betraying his brothers and sleeping with the enemy? a small voice in the back of his head asked.
                  So lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear anyone come up behind him, and jumped when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
                  “Easy,” Ghost said, taking shape beside him, his hand dropping away. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”
                  “Oh.” Tango took a deep breath, shook his head to clear it. “Sorry, just…” He gestured vaguely. “Thinking.”
                  “Hmm. Always dangerous.”
                  “Yeah. Everything alright with Holly?”
                  Ghost shrugged. “Michael smashed the guy’s face in, but