Augustine strolled up to the open driver’s door, and gave him a sixty-watt smile. He always said he reserved the hundred-watt ones for business contacts who weren’t his irritating older brother.

“It’s midnight,” Ambrose pointed out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His brother went around to the passenger side and let himself in, closing the door and tucking his hands into his armpits. “The same thing as you, dickweed. Except I’ve actually been getting work done, rather than . . . what? Playing truck driver?”

Ambrose kind of missed driving, but there was usually too much paperwork for him to indulge himself.

“Trucks are cool.”

“So is sleep.”

They appraised each other. There had been a time when they were mortal enemies, but Ambrose hiring his little brother to work for him when he’d started his company had changed all that. Sure Augustine could be an annoying businessman-type sometimes, but now they hung out like they never had as kids. The five-year age gap had given them little in common back when they’d lived under their parents’ roof, but now the difference was no big deal.

“You looking for a signature?” Ambrose asked. The financial shit Augustine juggled often required his approval.

“Why? Are you famous?”

“Damn right.”

“Oh.” Augustine laughed. “That’s why you dress like a sack of shit? To be ironic?”

“It’s either irony or a lack of ironing. Either way, there’s no one here to impress at this time of night except you and the security guards.” Ambrose shrugged. “And you’ve seen me in Batman pajamas.”

“It feels like that was only last year,” he mused. “Oh wait, it was. Christmas, to be exact. You’re a better sport than I am. I’ve never worn the Robin ones. It’s bad enough I have to be your sidekick at work, I’m sure as hell not fighting crime with you too.”

Ambrose sighed. “Damn. I got you a grappling hook for your birthday. I guess I’ll have to return it.”

The younger man held up a staying hand. “Don’t be hasty, now. After all, what guy couldn’t use a grappling hook?” He narrowed his eyes. “Enough with the bullshit. Why the fuck are you here? You look like you’re hiding from the cops.”

Ambrose snorted. “I wish.”

“Either spill it, or be a man and hide your feelings. It’s bad enough I have to deal with Charlotte’s mood swings.” He winked and Ambrose yanked on his tie good-naturedly. Augustine made a show of straightening it. The guy liked looking professional at all times. He probably wore his tie to bed. “You can give up on trying to rumple me. I’m rumple resistant. Now, you have sixty seconds to start talking or I’m heading home to strike out with my girlfriend.”

“Figure out what her kinks are and you’ll never get turned down.”

“She reads guy-on-guy romance. I’m not interested in finding out what her kinks are.”

Ambrose grinned evilly. “I guess you just don’t want her bad enough.”

“We’re not talking about me, Deflection Man.”

After fishing around in his coat pocket, Ambrose pulled out a packet of beef jerky. He shoved a piece in his mouth and sucked on it. The salt was one of his guilty pleasures. Augustine grimaced. So uptight, his brother.

“It’s a woman, of course.” He chewed, feeling like he was trying to gnaw a hole in a leather jacket. Activity was good. It made his stress level go down.

Augustine shook his head in disgust. “If you tell me this is about Shae, I’m going to start sending you to therapy. Enough is enough.”

“No,” he grumbled. Hadn’t he shown people lately that he was over her? Mostly. “This is about someone I just met.”

“And the problem is . . . ?”

He sucked more salt out of the meat-like substance, and looked across the lot at an older truck that he needed to sell. With the level of responsibility he had, he couldn’t let things escape his notice because he was distracted by Everly.

“I slept with her.”

In the gloom, Augustine’s eyebrow almost touched his hairline. “I’m failing to see the issue.” He folded his arms. “Seriously though. Sometimes things aren’t the best the first time or two. Did you have performance issues? Did she use her teeth too much?”

Despite his agitation, Ambrose barked a laugh. “No. I just . . . like her too much.” He closed his door. The wind was picking up, and he could see his breath in the cab.

His brother sighed and rubbed a hand over his regal face. Augustine had somehow turned out looking like aristocracy. With his slim build and classic features, he made Ambrose look like even more of a brute by comparison.

He looked out the window for a moment, his gaze following the progress of a security guard who was checking the lot, then glanced back at Ambrose.

“You know I love you, man, but you have to stop sabotaging yourself. Shae blindsided you, but you’ve let it ruin your life for too long. And Kate? I’m not even going to go there.” He sighed, sounding exasperated.

“I’m not sabotaging myself. I just don’t want to rush into anything. The only problem is, she makes me want to rush every time I’m around her.” He grabbed another piece of jerky and shredded it between his fingers. It was probably better for him than eating it.

“If you like her and she likes you, you just need to pull your head out of your ass.” Augustine opened his door and slid to the ground. “Go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow, quit being an idiot.”

He closed the door behind him, and Ambrose stared after him long after he’d gone.

Chapter Five

Everly walked into the sandwich shop and spotted her mom in the back corner straightaway. Her hair—a bleached-out curly mess—made her stand out, especially at her age. Lysette was a stubborn woman with her own sense of style and wouldn’t let Everly touch her hair even when she begged. The woman had no class. Then again, Everly should probably have outgrown her purple streaks, or hot pink panels, or whatever current ’do she felt like giving herself too. Like mother, like daughter.

She approached the table then put her hands up in the air. “Victory!”

Her mom’s face lit up. “You won?”

“Yup.” After pulling out the chair from across her mother, she placed her purse on the floor and sat down. “We had close to a hundred protesters. I was shocked.”

“Wow.” Lysette smiled. “Good for you.”

Sighing happily, she shrugged off her coat. “The no-freeze shelter will stay open another season.”

“You have a year until your next fight.”

“Ugh.” She picked up the menu. “Don’t remind me. Did you order?”

“No. I was waiting for you. I’ll pay today. To celebrate.”

She didn’t usually let her mom pay when they went out, but today she would. She knew it made her feel good—like she was making up for a lacking childhood or something. Everly didn’t see it that way, but there was no swaying her mom. That stubborn streak had gone directly to Everly, but it was also the reason she was alive. Pregnant at a young age, pressured by her family and boyfriend to have an abortion, Lysette had lost all financial footing when she’d refused.

It was hard to imagine the strength it took to make that kind of decision, knowing you’d be alone forever. Lysette’s parents had been born privileged and were given every opportunity out there for wealthy white kids, but because her mother had made one mistake, they’d turned her into the black sheep of the family. Because she’d chosen to keep Everly, as was her right as a mom and human being, they’d made their own daughter’s life a living hell.

Lysette may have forgiven them, but that didn’t mean Everly had. When she’d been a child, she’d wanted tangible things like kids at school had—the newest My Little Ponies, fancy light-up sneakers, a bike with tassels. But now that she was an adult, she was grateful things had turned out the way they had. Living in and out of shelters and relying on welfare had been tough, but it’d made her tough—and grateful and appreciative. If she’d grown up with her grandparents, where would she be right now? Wall Street? Walking by homeless people with her nose turned up? It disgusted her to think she could have turned out that way.