Chapter 12

Two hours later, Brody had picked up Ally and her friend Savannah and was about to head home when his daughter said, "Can we go to the Gnat, Dad? JD told me we could have mani-pedis for free!"

"Now?" Brody said, imagining his afternoon plans of sitting in his man shed drawing while the girls played slipping away.

Everyone needed an outlet, and that was his. It had started just after Phoebe left, and he'd never stopped. Ally loved it. She'd watch him, and they'd discuss who he was drawing next. It drove his family crazy. They didn't know what he got up to in his shed, and Brody was good with that too.

"The Gnat is that way." She pointed right.

"No. Really?"

"I've never had a mani-pedi," Savannah said from the back seat.

Brody sighed and turned the car around. He then drove to the Gnat accompanied by the excited chatter of two ten-year-olds .

He was used to that because his kid always wanted to have friends over to play, but sometimes, like today, their voices seemed extra loud and bounced off the inside walls of his head.

Pulling into the parking lot of the Gnat, he turned off the ignition and got out. The girls sprinted inside, and Brody followed at a slower pace, nodding to the few customers seated outside at the tables that JD had put there, sipping their coffee. His phone rang, so he stayed outside to answer it.

"Hey, Uncle Asher. What's up?"

"Maybe nothing, but my Spidey-sense are tingling, nephew."

"Why?" Brody looked at the Gnat as he talked. JD had purchased it and turned it into a one-stop beautifying shop with tattoos under a single roof. The locals had thought him crazy, but the place was now always booked solid. Brody had to say, he never came here. Usually, he coerced his mother into trimming his hair.

"This guy came in this morning and tried to subtly pump Sybil for information about Dukes. We all know that no one can get anything out of my administrator without a sedative, so she didn't offer up anything but asked who he was. The man walked out of the place before she could call me."

"Why would someone be asking after us?"

"Hell if I know. You boys been up to anything you shouldn't have?"

"Not that I know of. You got a description of him?"

"Yup, I'll get to that thing you make me do and send it… or get someone young to do it."

"Messenger, Uncle Asher. It's not that hard," Brody said. He'd told the Stanways he didn't do social media, but he used Messenger, as it was easier with a family his size .

"Whatever. I've got enough on my plate without learning more. Now this could be nothing, nephew, but it could also be something. I've told the others what I'm telling you. Keep your eyes open, and I'll see if I can find this guy."

"Okay, and good luck with Messenger." His uncle hung up swearing.

Why was someone asking about Dukes? Could be a few reasons, and one was Sawyer and his business interests in LA. Another could be the trouble Zoe had in Chicago. For now, he had two girls to look after. Entering the Gnat, Brody found them standing before reception, talking to Birdie, his soon-to-be sister-in-law.

"Hi, Brody."

"Hey, Birdie. I think JD promised these two some kind of manicure."

"Mani-pedis, Dad," Ally said with the precociousness of a ten-year-old.

"Right, my bad," he added.

"I have the booking in place," Birdie said. Blond, sweet-natured, unlike her grumpy bear of a fiancé, Brody liked that she would be his sister-in-law.

"How are the wedding plans going? You got that big, ugly idiot you're marrying to fall into line yet and wear a suit?"

"Sawyer said he'd wear chinos and a shirt."

"That's something then."

"Oh my gosh! I'm so excited you two are my next clients." Nina, the Gnat's beautician, appeared in the doorway. "Come on and join me."

Like most of the locals in town, one of the Dukes had gone to school with her. Brody had attended birthday parties Nina was at when she didn't have the stylish hair and clothes, just two pigtails and a homemade party dress .

"We'll be a while, Brody," Nina said with a smirk. She then disappeared with the girls.

Sighing, Brody sat and prepared for a long wait. Birdie would bring him a coffee if he asked her, but he'd had three today already, so maybe he'd give it half an hour.

"Your next client has cancelled, Jessie," Birdie said in what seemed like a very loud voice to the Gnat's hairdresser when he wandered out. Short, with red hair, Jessie was all style in fitted jeans and a skintight white T-shirt. Around his waist, he wore some kind of short leather apron full of things like scissors and combs.

"Bummer." His eyes went to Brody. "Are you here to see if I can fit you in for a cut, Brody?"

"No."

"Okay, well, you come this way then."

"I'm good, Jessie, but thanks." He'd never come here for a haircut before, and he wasn't about to start now.

Behind Jessie, JD appeared. "Get your ass in here, Brody. It's time you styled up. That look is last century," JD said. "Like the love of my life has already told you, we'll never marry you off if you don't step up your game."

"Fuck you, pretty boy. Sorry, Birdie." His future sister-in-law was looking at her desktop monitor like it held the secrets of eternal life, and then it all clicked into place. Brody had never been slow to pick up on signals like his brothers.

"This is a setup."

"What?" Birdie shot him a wide-eyed look, then went back to the monitor. "Of course not."

"Of course it is, but I like to call it an intervention," JD said at the same time. "Let's go, mountain man."

"I don't want to." He folded his arms, knowing damn well they couldn't make him .

"Ally!" JD called, and his daughter appeared in the doorway. "Yes or no, does your dad need a haircut?"

"Yes, he needs to be up-styled," his traitorous daughter said. "Can I go now? We're choosing colors."

"Go for it, sweetheart," JD said, patting Ally on the top of her head. "Let's go." He then waved Brody to his feet.

He didn't move. "What the actual fuck does up-style mean, and why does my kid know about it?"

"Well, for you, it means an intervention. For normal people who get their hair cut regularly and are clean-shaven, it means they want a change," JD said.

Brody picked up a magazine and started reading.

"We could tranquillize him, I suppose. Call in Ms. Jonas, the vet. I send a lot of business her way," JD said.

"I'm not a community project," Brody said, sounding as pissed off as he felt.

The door to the Gnat opened then, and Phoebe walked in, still in the cutoffs that showed off her lovely long legs. She stopped, her eyes moving around everyone in the reception area, as if sensing the tension.

"Excellent, my next appointment has arrived," JD said. "Come on through, Phoebe. Jessie, you take Brody in for his haircut."

"You're getting a tattoo?" Brody said, incredulous. "You hate needles."

Phoebe looked at him. "You're actually letting someone else cut your hair?"

"I've had haircuts before," Brody lied defensively.

"I've had needles before," she countered. "And I thought you only let your mom cut your hair?"

"Because he's cheap," JD said. "But not today. Today, he's getting a proper grown-up haircut for his daughter because she asked him. I have a blue lollipop ready for when he's done. "

"Blue?" Phoebe wrinkled her lovely nose. "What flavor is that?"

"Victory flavored." JD smirked.

Brody never let anyone tell him what to do unless he wanted to be told what to do, and even then, he rarely gave in easily. He had two choices here as far as he could see: he could walk out and wait in the car, and Phoebe would see him acting like a child, or he could get a haircut.

Getting to his feet, he looked at Jessie. "Are you ready for me now?" he said like he'd always had an appointment even though everyone present knew otherwise.

"Sure, come this way."

Walking past JD, he elbowed him in the stomach and heard the satisfying whoosh of air leaving his lungs. Feeling marginally better, he sat in the chair Jessie directed him to.

"So, what'll it be?"

"Do I actually get a say?" He looked at the hairdresser in the mirror.

"No offense intended, Brody, but your hair is a mess. You need a tidy up. You're a good-looking man and should give that face a better frame, bud."

Brody was as comfortable as the next man with compliments.

"Is he fighting you every step of the way?" JD called from the room next door, where apparently Phoebe was getting a tattoo.

Does she have others? He could feel his body heating just thinking about where she had them, and then it cooled as he imagined his soon-to-be brother-in-law looking at her ass or some other place he shouldn't be seeing.

"Not yet. We're just debating styles!" Jessie called back.

"I got a bowl here if you just want to cut around that!"

"Fuck off, pretty boy!" Brody called back. "Don't get any ink on your Bottega Veneta shirt. "

"Do you and your brothers really research fashion labels to taunt JD with?" Jessie asked, combing Brody's hair. It got stuck in a knot.

"We do, because it annoys him, and ouch."

"Sorry, but hell, man, chuck in some conditioner occasionally, will you?"

Where is Phoebe getting her tattoo? When had she gotten over her fear of needles?

"So, I'm thinking a lot shorter, and we'll work with the natural wave. Maybe some highlights?"

"Now I know you're messing with me," Brody said.

Jessie laughed as he wrapped him in a cape. He heard the murmur of voices and knew one was Phoebe's.

They'd once talked about getting matching tattoos. He'd get her name, and she, his. It had nearly happened, and then she'd received the scholarship news.

And then Brody had screwed everything up.