Nobody’s Hero Page 6

  “Yeah, weekend after next?” Danny picked up a wing and dipped it into the ranch sauce. “I already cleared the weekend with Papá.” He popped the whole wing in his mouth and a second later pulled the angled wing bone out, minus the meat. He smacked his lips and took a large swallow of soda. “That’s how you know it’s cooked right,” he said, noticing Brad watching him. “And their buffalo sauce is awesome. Hot and spicy, like me.” He winked.

  “You should bring Brad.” Connie ignored Danny’s commentary. “We’re spending the weekend at Sakatah Lake State Park. A little camping, biking, fishing for those who enjoy it. Mostly we’re going to hang out. It should be a lot of fun.”

  It did sound like fun. His outdoor experiences mostly included survival training and waging pretend wars with his classmates at Norton. Since they’d all done their best to make him miserable, his time outdoors had been less than enjoyable. He’d never gone camping for fun, but he lived in Minnesota now and it seemed like the kind of thing he should start doing. A group activity, a family thing, might be safe. One more step in his brand-new start. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Someone shouted Connie’s name from the other side of the dining room. “You do that,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll be back soon with your food.”

  “Eat up.” Danny shoved the little appetizer plate toward Brad. “If I end up eating everything here, plus my steak, I’ll have to actually exercise to burn off the calories.” Danny loaded a pile of nachos onto the plate, added a piece of chicken, and pushed the whole thing at Brad. “Now, save me from the treadmill and eat some of this.”

  “Does anyone ever say no to you?” Brad asked, pulling a tortilla chip covered in spicy beef and melted cheese from the mound on the plate.

  It wasn’t fair. Danny’s smile was freaking contagious.

  “It happens. But not as often as it probably should.” Danny popped a nacho into his mouth and washed it down with his drink. “So, spill.”

  “Spill?”

  “Yeah. I’m not letting you off the hook until you tell me something about yourself.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Ooh, you want to play it that way, huh? Twenty Questions it is.”

  “Twenty?” He couldn’t possibly have that many questions, could he?

  Danny shrugged. “Maybe more.”

  “Okay.” Brad lifted a chicken wing to his mouth, hoping he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt.

  “Question one. What’s your favorite color?”

  He set the wing down. “Seriously? That’s what you want to know?”

  Danny scooped up another chip. “Well, yeah. It was either your favorite color or your views on existentialist philosophy.”

  Brad snorted. “Oh, well, if those are my choices, my favorite color is green. I’m not entirely sure what existentialist philosophy is.”

  “You’ll find out next year. Intro to Philosophy is a required gen ed course at Carleton. And, really, green? What color of green? There are dozens of greens. Forest green, sea green, grass green, emerald green. I could go on.”

  “Please don’t.” Brad rolled his eyes. “Emerald green, I guess.”

  “Question two. What’s your favorite television show, other than Phoenix Colony?”

  “I don’t watch much TV.”

  Eyes wide in exaggerated horror, Danny leaned back. “That’s so...wrong. What do you do?”

  Brad shrugged. “I don’t know. Run. Read.”

  “Yeah? What do you read?”

  “I’m not picky. Mostly sci-fi, I guess.”

  Danny practically jumped in his seat. “Hey, me too. What kind?”

  Brad wanted to smile at his enthusiasm. “Space opera, mostly, but I’m kind of digging the alternative history stuff.”

  “Who’s your favorite auth—”

  “Hello, Danny.”

  Danny’s brows lowered in confusion when the two older guys stopped and loomed over the table. They looked normal enough—mid-twenties, designer jeans and short-sleeved plaid shirts over white tank tops, clean-shaven with trendy haircuts—but something put Brad on edge. It took a minute, but then he realized they reminded him of his brother Nolan and his buddies. “What do you want?” Danny demanded.

  “What? You’re not going to invite us to join you?” The one wearing the red shirt pressed even closer, almost nose-to-nose with Danny.

  “No.” Danny leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw clenched.

  “That’s not nice.” Red Shirt smiled, and the humorless twist of lips caused something to freeze in Brad’s stomach. This wasn’t good. “I think your brother would prefer it if you were a little more welcoming to his friends.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve done what my brother told me to do. I actually think for myself these days.” Danny’s calm, controlled voice impressed Brad, especially given Danny’s white-knuckled grip on his fork. Red Shirt leaned closer. “Rob’s looking forward to finishing your date.”

  Danny grimaced. “Not going to happen. I’ve seen as much of Rob as I want to.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Red Shirt smiled in an I-know-something-you-don’t-know kind of way. “Tell your brother Blaine says hi.” His smirk firmly in place, Red Shirt turned and sauntered away, his lackey close at his heels.

  Chapter Seven

  Brad blew out the breath he’d been holding. “What was that all about?”

  “I have no idea, but I’ll be sure to talk to Ray.” Danny glared at the nacho platter and pushed it away, his appetite apparently gone. “Ever since Ray started hanging out with a different crowd about a year or so ago, he’s started acting weird.”

  “Weird how?”

  “He dropped out of college. Now he works with Papá full time and goes out almost every night. I think he’s permanently attached to his phone. I’d think it was drugs or something, but Papá has random and mandatory drug testing, and he’d blow a gasket if Ray ever got caught with anything in his whiz quiz.”

  “And they’re friends with that Rob guy from last night?”

  “Yeah. Which is weird. I should have wondered why he was suddenly taking an interest in my love life.”

  “I’d certainly think twice before letting him set you up with someone in the future.”

  Danny snorted. “No shit. I’ll find my own dates, thank you very much.”

  Things were awkward after the visit from Ray’s friends. Brad cracked his knuckles. “Probably a good idea.”

  The rest of the meal passed quickly. Danny kept up a steady stream of conversation, but it lacked some of his usual spark. Brad enjoyed his grilled cheese, and no matter what Danny said, a grilled cheese made at a restaurant tasted ten times better than any Brad could make with a toaster and microwave.

  “What are you doing?” Brad interrupted Danny’s easy flow of words.

  “What?” Danny looked genuinely confused, but Brad didn’t buy it.

  “You put half of your potato on my plate.”

  Danny looked at the plates. “Oh, yeah. Well, you finished your sandwich and the salad was tiny. I have more here than I can eat at one time.”

  “And you took one plus one and it equaled feed Brad?”

  “Something like that. Besides, you need to carb up. Doing construction and house rehab takes a lot of energy.”

  “Seriously, dude. You don’t have to keep feeding me.”

  “Just eat it and shut up.” Danny punctuated his statement by popping a mushroom into his mouth.

  Brad shook his head and dug into the potato. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.

  When Connie came by with the check, Danny kept her from leaving. “Here, you can take it now.” He dug into his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out a card. After a br
ief pause he pulled out another card, carefully concealing the graphics from Brad. “Here, put it on the gift card and charge the balance to my debit card.”

  Connie’s eyes widened. “Gift card?” She examined the cards in her hand. Danny reached out and folded his hand over hers. She must have caught the intensity in his stare because she nodded and tucked the cards into the apron tied around her waist. “Sure thing. I’ll be back with your receipt.”

  Brad waited until she was gone. “You’re not subtle, you know.”

  Danny sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Pink spread across the dusky skin of Danny’s neck.

  Yearning tore through him. Unfortunately, it was as useless as Danny’s fake gift card.

  * * *

  If this had been a date, Danny would know what to do. Instead it was awkward. He pulled his Jeep up to the curb in front of his house, then killed the engine but didn’t open his door. He was trying to stall, to get a few more minutes with Brad. Stupid idea, and he knew it. Brad had Do Not Cross signs all around him. A whole evening’s worth of prying, too-personal questions still hadn’t gotten him any real information. Reluctantly, he pulled the key from the ignition. He sucked in a breath when Brad’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

  “Thank you,” Brad said softly. “For the tour and for dinner. I had a good time.”

  Danny let the warmth of those fingers seep into his skin. “I’m glad.” He coughed, trying to clear the husky edge from his voice.

  They sat in silence for a minute.

  “So...” Danny said.

  “So...” Brad repeated, then, as if he realized he was still touching Danny, pulled his hand back.

  Yep, awkward.

  “What did you think of our little town?” He mentally cringed as he asked the question. He couldn’t come up with anything more original, or at least more interesting, than that?

  “It’s great.”

  Another awkward silence.

  Danny racked his brain. “Did I tell you about Jesse James?”

  “The outlaw?”

  “Yeah. Northfield’s historical claim to fame. Back in the day—late eighteen hundreds—Jesse James and his gang tried to rob the First National Bank in town.” He shifted in his seat to face Brad. “There were seven of them, I think, and while they were holding up the bank, the townsfolk banded together to fight back. There was an epic shootout and five of the James gang were killed. Only Jesse and his brother made it out alive.”

  Danny fiddled with his key chain, whirling it around his finger as he spoke. “We got a lot of street cred out of that. A little Lutheran town in Minnesota defeating the infamous James gang.”

  Brad snorted. “Street cred? Did they have street cred in the eighteen hundreds?”

  “Sure they did. I mean, they probably called it something else, but we’re still telling the story a hundred and fifty years later.”

  “Clearly a significant moment in Northfield’s history.”

  “You know it. There’s even Defeat of Jesse James Days around Labor Day each year. We’re going to milk that event for all it’s worth for as long as we can.”

  “Do you want—” he started to say at the same time Brad said, “I think I’d better—”

  “Go ahead,” Brad said.

  “You were pretty clear earlier about why you don’t want to get involved.”

  “Right,” Brad agreed.

  Danny reached up and cupped Brad’s cheek in his hand. Brad’s startled gaze jerked up and met Danny’s. “I wish you’d change your mind, but I’m not going to push right now. So, don’t take this as a push, okay?”

  “Wha—”

  Danny slid his hand to cup the back of Brad’s neck, then pulled Brad forward until their mouths met. The kiss was too short for his liking, but it was sweet and gentle. Danny didn’t try to deepen it, or make it last longer. It wasn’t about showing Brad what he’d be missing out on or urging Brad to reconsider. If it helped the cause, great, but the kiss was Danny’s acknowledgment, disappointment and hope all twisted into the brief meeting of lips.

  Brad responded immediately, moving close and looping his arms around Danny’s neck. He combed his fingers through Danny’s hair, which made him want to purr like a cat.

  Danny broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Brad’s. He wouldn’t push, wouldn’t pressure. But Brad hadn’t reacted like someone who wasn’t interested. If things worked out the way he hoped, the simple combination of proximity and chemistry would knock away Brad’s hesitancy.

  Getting out of the Jeep and walking toward the house was one of the hardest things Danny had ever done. There was some satisfaction in knowing Brad still sat stunned in the passenger seat when Danny reached the kitchen door.

  Chapter Eight

  If he turned around now, he might be able to make it back inside his apartment. Brad stood at the top of the wooden steps and stared. The yard, which had seemed huge yesterday, could barely contain the people milling around. And the noise. Kids playing, people chattering and a stereo blaring Latin music. And Mrs. Ortega was somewhere in the middle of it all, expecting him to make an appearance at the family barbecue.

  Doing his duty wasn’t new to him. He’d been forced to make the rounds at his parents’ events before being shipped off to Norton. But their parties were nothing like this. Here there was no quiet chitchat or political maneuvering. No roving waiters with trays of canapés or champagne. No string quartet providing boring background noise.

  Below him, little Veronica climbed onto a plastic slide and squealed the whole way down. Connie smiled and waved at him from the lap of a stocky redhead. They sat in a forest-green camp chair along the far side of the lawn. An unending stream of women of all ages passed through the door to the kitchen with platters of food, bags of chips, stacks of plates. Mr. Ortega reigned over a huge black grill.

  The image could have come straight out of a magazine ad for the perfect summer barbecue.

  He wasn’t sure he could face being the awkward outsider in that rowdy group. He’d never been bothered by large gatherings before, but the last two years of self-enforced solitude had changed the way he interacted with people. He had almost convinced himself to turn around and go back into his apartment when Mr. Ortega waved at him from the grill.

  “Brad, I’m glad you came down. Let me introduce you to a few people.”

  Steeling his nerves, he nodded and crossed the lawn.

  “I hired Brad for the summer,” Mr. Ortega told the men around him. “Brad, these are my brothers Manuel and Berto and my nephew Jorge.” He pointed out the three men as he named them.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Brad said, calling on the social manners his parents had drilled into him as a child.

  They asked a couple of questions about school and where he came from. Brad kept his answers short and spent the time scanning the crowd for Danny. The questions weren’t particularly prying, but they seemed endless. As soon as one person left, two others joined their group, and the introductions and questions started all over again. There was no way he would remember all the names.

  He managed to escape the men at the grill, only to be trapped by Danny’s aunt Maria, who wanted to know all about his family. Maria was replaced by another aunt who told him he was too skinny and offered to fix him up a plate.

  Where was Danny? Even Ray and his bad attitude would be welcome over this well-meaning barrage of questions and relatives.

  He excused himself from a third aunt who wanted to introduce him to one of her nieces—a pretty girl, according to her—and turned to make his escape back to his apartment when a squeal pierced the air.

  “Bwad!”

  In a flash of pink, Veronica darted from the play equipment and came straight toward him at an adorable, though surprisingly quick, waddle. A
few people looked from her to Brad, who was obviously her target, and smiled indulgently. At the end of her dash, she tripped and fell forward with an audible grunt. She looked surprised for a second, as though she couldn’t figure out how she had landed in the grass. Then her face clouded up. At the first tremble of her lips, Brad was down the wooden stairs and scooping her into his arms.

  “Hey there,” he crooned. “You’re okay, right?”

  The smile she gave him melted away all of his reservations. She wriggled down from his arms and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the house. He followed obediently. Not only was he curious about what she might want to show him, but, bonus, he could hide from the rest of the crowd a little longer. “Where are we going?” he asked her.

  “Come wit’ me.”

  It wasn’t exactly an answer, but he went along with it.

  Brad excused himself as their path led them through the kitchen door and past a woman carrying a basket of buns in various styles. Veronica marched them into the living room and stopped in front of a cabinet. Her chubby hand pulled open the door to stacks of DVDs.

  “Are you supposed to play with these?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded while she sorted through the plastic cases.

  There were almost forty people running around outside. How had he ended up alone with a toddler?

  Finally, Veronica pulled a case out and brandished it triumphantly. “Here.”

  Squatting to her level, Brad took the movie. The Avengers. “You want to watch a movie?”

  “No,” she said, jabbing a finger at the cover picture. “‘Syou.”

  “Sioux?” Okay, now he was really lost.

  “No.” She was getting impatient now. “‘Syou.”

  Brad shook his head.

  “She said ‘it’s you.’”

  He jumped up and saw Danny leaning in the entranceway between the hall and the living room.

  “What’s me?”

  Danny strolled over. Veronica babbled something at him, making Danny grin and confusing Brad more than ever.