Page 77 of A Little Luck
His voice is low and challenging, and he’s no longer helpless. He stands up straight, making him taller than I realized. His blue eyes are focused, too, and I realize he can hold his own in a fight. Of course, he can.
It hits me that Raif Jones might be the most dangerous of the Jones boys. Bull is an in-your-face asshole. He’s ugly with neck tattoos and a bad attitude, but Raif is polite. He’s disarmingly handsome, and sometimes he even approaches sweet.
Right now, he’s looking at this stranger like he’s ready to kick his ass. His muscles flex against the sleeves of his overshirt, and the muscle in his square jaw moves. To his credit, the stranger squares his stance, preparing to defend himself if necessary.
I’m confused as fuck. “Do you know who he’s talking about?”
Raif’s eyes don’t leave the man’s. “It’s the second time I’ve heard that name this week.”
“The second time?” The man’s voice is quiet surprise. “When was the first?”
Raif ignores his question. “You said she’s your wife, so your name’s McClure?”
The man’s jaw flexes, and I’m concerned by the rising tension in the room. Jemima walks slowly to my side and holds my arm. Her eyes are wide, and she looks from Raif to the man.
Stepping closer slowly, I interject. “I can assure you, sir, no one by that name lives in Eureka. As publisher of this paper, it’s my job to know, and unless she’s just relocated, she’s not here.”
He blinks from Raif to Jemima to me, the intensity still in his gaze. Jemima’s fingers tighten on my arm, and for the first time in my entire life, I can honestly say I’m glad Raif Jones is here.
“You’d better keep on moving.” Raif’s voice is almost a growl. “We don’t like your kind around here.”
“What’s your name?” The man’s voice is low like a threat.
“Raif Jones.” Raif’s shoulders seem to broaden, and I guess with a brother like Bull, it’s hard to be afraid of anybody.
“Tell me, Raif Jones. Have you ever lost something that belonged to you?”
“Sure, I’ve lost lots of things, but people don’t belong to people.”
“I see you’ve never been in love.”
Raif’s brow lowers, and he takes a step closer. “That ain’t love.”
The journalist in me instantly wants to know more about Raif Jones’s story, but the man at the counter demands all our attention.
He takes a step back, lifting the fingers of his left hand as if doing a low wave. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
He turns and leaves as abruptly as he arrived, and the three of us exhale at the same time.
“What the fuck was that?” I turn to them with wide eyes.
“One word…” Jemima sounds almost excited. “Swoon!”
“What?” I shake my head. “You did not think—”
She trots over to where Raif is coming down from what I now see was him preparing to fight.
“You liked that guy?” He gives her a quizzical look.
“No, dummy, you! Those were some seriously swoony protector-vibes you were giving off just then. Too bad Adam wasn’t here. You could’ve been like the wonder-twin superhero hotties.”
“Where do you think he’s going?” My thumbs fly over my phone face as I text Adam.
Do you have Ryan?
Gray dots float, and his response is quick. It’s a picture of the two of them smiling, holding up skateboards and peace signs.
Adam