Chapter 2

Monday evening, Gavin did his rounds, working with the gym-goers eager to get buff. He’d nicely but firmly put Michelle off. Again. The woman was a blond barracuda who thought their one night of raunchy sex months ago entitled her to having him at her beck and call. Yeah, that had been a mistake, and he’d known it the moment he’d let her talk him into going out for “dessert.”

But he’d been drinking back then. He blamed the booze as much as he blamed his need to lose himself in something pleasurable. Damn, but Michelle knew how to use her tongue in the most inventive ways. Still not enough to tempt him back into her evil clutches. Especially not with Pink Yoga Pants working up a sweat on the elliptical.

He casually made his way over, aware Zoe didn’t chat with the people near her. She only talked to an older woman about gardening, and then only during her cooldowns. He’d eavesdropped a time or two, puzzled at what she found so fascinating about dirt. But Loretta wasn’t here, and Zoe currently moved with purpose.

Like a demon, when she jumped on a machine, she went full throttle until she’d sweated out a good gallon. She had her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and it swayed as she ran. He stopped next to her, answering a question for one of his clients about the new kettlebells Mac had ordered.

“Yeah, they’ll be in Friday, Jim. No, none of them are pink.” Gavin chuckled, then turned to Zoe, only to see her watching him, her gaze intense. “What?” She looked like she either wanted to run him over, punch him, or—dare he hope—kiss him.

“I’m just waiting for one of your incredibly fascinating comments about pink pants, small biceps, or fine form.” She didn’t sound too winded, yet she’d been on the machine for a good ten minutes at least. She was in phenomenal shape—those yoga pants didn’t lie.

He frowned. “Hey now, your biceps are just fine. Nothing small about them.” He didn’t recall ever criticizing her shape.

“I meant yours,” she said drily.

“You really are mean.”

She scowled. “I am not.”

“You are. That’s why I like you.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say.” Her lips curled into a smirk, and his heart raced.

“Yet true.” Before a nearby musclehead could jump on the machine that opened up next to her, Gavin stepped in front of him, blocking the way. “Sorry, man. I’m training her.” He turned around, searching for a free machine. “There you go. That one just opened up.” He pointed out a machine in front of them before facing Zoe again.

The guy gave him an odd look and shrugged. “Well, I’m not gonna kiss you, but I get it. Poor bastard.” He chuckled and walked away, no harm no foul.

Before Gavin could ask what the guy was talking about, Zoe cut in, “Training me? Liar.” She slowed her machine, apparently done with her workout.

Gavin put on a hurt look. “But I am training you. To smile. Slowly but surely, I’m working on that last nerve. The same one I’m constantly rubbing the wrong way on everyone else, according to my siblings. They, like you, have no appreciation for my sense of humor.” He bent over to touch his toes, luring her with his flexibility. When he straightened, he noticed the strange look she gave him.

Zoe glanced at him a moment more before grinning. Man, she had one sexy mouth. “Oh, I don’t know. I appreciate humor as much as the next gal.”

“Yeah?” He stared in awe. Her bright eyes were so…blue.

“How about this?” She added a husky laugh that shot sparks through his chest and radiated all over his body.

“You have a great laugh. You should do it more often.”

“Oh, I will.” She chuckled some more. “Thanks, Gavin. You really made my night.” Then she shocked the hell out of him when after getting off her machine, she leaned close to kiss him on the cheek.

“Th-thanks.” God willing, he would manage not to pop an erection in his thin athletic shorts in front of her and everyone else at the gym. “Not that I don’t deserve that, but what made you kiss me? Uncontrollable lust? Finally owning up to your feelings? Realizing you’re in love with my charming self?”

She looked on the verge of exploding with mirth. “You sure you want to know?”

“Well, yeah, before we set our wedding date, at least.” He grinned at her. But she laughed again, and he had a feeling it was at—not with—him. He frowned. “Okay, what?”

She cleared her throat, her humor still plain to see. “Well, Smoky, there’s a sign on your back that says Kiss me if you pity men with small brains.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I feel for you. It’s not your fault size really does matter.” She snickered again before leaving him busy staring over his shoulder at the mirrored wall behind him.

Son of a… Gavin saw the marker inked into his T-shirt. No doubt why he hadn’t caught it earlier. One of his idiot brothers or sister had written in black marker on his dark-blue shirt.

The war had most definitely resumed. A Donnigan family tradition—pranking on each other until somebody cried.

Well, it wouldn’t be him. Sure, he looked like an idiot. He’d also had Zoe York’s mouth on him, finally. And now he had a valid excuse to retaliate on one unlucky Donnigan. Hell yeah. He just had to figure out which one of them had pulled this stunt.

With Landon so deep into Ava, it probably wasn’t him. Though technically Gavin and Landon still lived together, Big Brother spent most of his waking hours at work or with the doc. Theo was the more likely culprit. Little Brother hadn’t liked the mohawk haircut he’d woken up to a few weeks ago. Gavin thought Theo had looked edgy, but maybe the hair dye had been overdoing it. But that had been Landon’s prank, turning Theo’s hair Oregon State orange. Gavin’s assist couldn’t count as the actual idea, and from what he knew, Theo still blamed Landon for the prank. Had Theo struck back, but at Gavin instead?

Or had it been Hope, his younger sister, showing off the set of brass balls they all knew she had buried under a sweet smile? Conniving little witch. Hell, it could really be any of them. Ava too. The woman had a wicked sense of humor. After all, she loved Landon, didn’t she?

Two women stopped him to give him kisses on the cheek. He flushed.

“It’s okay, Gavin. So long as you’re not small in other places,” Megan taunted. Considering she knew exactly how not small he was, he felt vindicated.

Her laughter didn’t help though. Before someone else could pity him, he swore and ripped off his shirt, assuaged by the momentary silence around him. Megan clapped, someone else wolf whistled, and Gavin hurried past half the gym while he went in search of a new shirt.

Unfortunately, the spare in his locker had also been tampered with. This saying much more visible—and insulting. I might be small down below, but I have a big heart. Don’t hate me because I’m tiny.

“Oh my God. Theo, I know this is you,” he growled and tossed the shirt right back in the locker. He had so many ideas of what to do to his kid brother that he missed Mac and Shane’s entrance.

“So you’re finally copping to the truth—that you have a small brain. The first step is admitting the problem,” Shane Collins, Mac’s good buddy and a fellow former Marine, shook his head. Shane smiled a lot, had a beautiful wife, and would be the perfect wingman for a night on the town. He’d help draw the ladies, then push them toward Gavin—the confirmed single man. Gavin liked him. Normally.

“Not funny, Collins.” Gavin did his best not to belt the guy. “My family did this.”

Mac grinned. “Seems a little immature for Landon, don’t you think?”

“Who the hell knows? With my family, it could even be my father.”

“Ouch.” Mac shook his head. “Let me grab you a gym T-shirt. You know, the new uniform you’re supposed to wear?”

Gavin forced an innocent expression. “I meant to. But I only have two, and I haven’t done laundry.”

“In what, a month?” Shane snorted. “Nice try.” He turned to Mac. “I told you they hated the shirts.”

“Shut up.” Mac left and returned moments later with a bright-red shirt with bold white letters that said Jameson’s Gym. No doubt about where Gavin worked wearing that thing. He felt like a stop sign with arms when he wore it.

With a sigh, Gavin threw it on. “Is this kid-size or what?” The shirt clung to him like rubber.

“It’s an adult large. Not my fault you’re so big you’re growing out of our leftover stock.”

Shane gave him a knowing once-over. “Still, it’s good promo having a muscle-bound freak wearing your name.”

“Hey.” Gavin frowned.

“Sorry. Muscle-bound idiot with a small brain.” Shane snickered. “Seriously, Gavin, do some laundry. That’s just embarrassing.”

“Good thing you can run fast,” Gavin muttered, having watched Shane eat up the treadmill on more than one occasion.

Mac shook his head. “With a mouth that annoying, he’s constantly outrunning daily beatings—and that’s just from his wife.”

“Please.” Shane no longer seemed so amused. “She loves me.”

“Good thing someone does.”

Mac chuckled. “You know, Shane, maybe you should attend our self-defense classes. You might learn a thing or two.”

“No thanks.” Shane’s glare turned even more unfriendly. “I’ve heard the class is all about watching those big, hunky Donnigans prance around.”

“I’m hunky. Landon’s just big,” Gavin offered, trying to be helpful. “But it’s a good thing Shelby’s taking the class. I consider my prancing a public service.”

“My wife,” Shane emphasized, “has learned a few tricks from you two jarheads, I’ll admit. But I’ll be the one teaching her close combat, understand?”

Gavin held his hands up in surrender, stretching his tiny cotton shirt. With any luck, he’d rip holes in the arms and have an excuse to tear off the sleeves.

Mac winked at Gavin. “Best class we’ve had in a while. Well, next to Maggie’s aerobics workouts. Do you know how many gym memberships we got after I put her, then you guys, to work?”

“Well, yeah.” Gavin nodded. “Maggie’s hot. Of course membership increased. Then you have me to balance out my brother’s fat head. He’s big, but I’m fast and handsome. So bam, your female membership goes through the roof.” Not that Gavin believed most of the bullshit he spouted, but it seemed to aggravate Shane, who rolled his eyes. “Enough to give me a raise?”

Mac scoffed. “Dream on. No, but enough to give you the weekend off to go to your cousin’s wedding.”

“Huh?”

“Landon said to make sure you had the weekend off. Something about your mother throwing a fit if you even think of getting out of Mike’s nuptials?”

Mike McCauley—one of the prodigal McCauleys, Aunt Beth’s brood. Not that he didn’t love his cousins, annoying as they were, but Gavin had already been to more than his share of social crap since being back home. He swore. Stupid Landon. “Thanks for nothing, Mac.”

Before he left the locker room, Shane called out, “Nothing on the back of your shirt this time, little man. You’re welcome for looking out for you.” More laughter.

Gavin didn’t deign to answer and left to finish his shift. Unfortunately, he got mobbed by a bunch of women he knew to be familiar with the equipment they asked about, as well as a few guys who wanted to know where they could purchase gym shirts.

But of Zoe, he saw no sign. And his mood went downhill from there.

* * *

Five days later, Gavin sat in a grand reception hall and watched as the oldest of his McCauley cousins twirled his new bride around the dance floor. Damned if he wanted to admit it, but Mike and Del made a nice-looking couple. Mike looking buff and shiny in a tux, while his new wife wore the hell out of a white wedding dress, with colorful sleeves of tattoos and her hair done up in some twisty braid. Gavin definitely approved. Nothing the McCauleys needed more than some fresh blood to dilute their straight-laced gene pool.

Yep, there went more McCauleys spinning around their significant others. In the nine months since he’d been home, Gavin had attended two weddings, a pre-wedding party, and this shindig. All of his cousins maturing and getting responsible.

He’d grown up hearing how Aunt Beth’s kids could do no wrong. So it had been up to him and Landon to get good grades and kick ass at sports, setting the way for their younger sister and brother. His mother had some kind of weird need to be better than her sisters in all things, including the achievements of her kids. Or so it had seemed at the time. Gavin knew his mother to be ultra-competitive, but she cared about her family first and foremost. Her need to one-up Aunt Beth and Aunt Sophie came second. Mostly.

He saw his mother and father standing at the periphery of the dance floor holding hands. They smiled and laughed a lot, while his mother kept talking to Landon next to her. Landon had his arm around Ava, the pair of them sickeningly in tune. Ava smiled at Linda every time Landon looked like he’d eaten a lemon.

Landon caught his gaze, gave a subtle glance at their mother, and rolled his eyes.

Gavin grinned. Oh yeah, his mother’s competitive streak still ran deep. Of course, Linda had managed to do the one thing her sisters hadn’t. He glanced away from his mother and spotted Hope—the lone girl in a family that only made boys.

To his relief, his sister left the buff, dopey guy staring after her and joined him at the table. Fortunately, he and his family, including Aunt Sophie and her date, had been seated in a corner, away from most of the noise.

Hope flounced next to him, looking beautiful in an aqua-colored gown that came to mid-calf. It didn’t show too much cleavage or thigh, though too much shoulder, in his opinion. “Oh man. My feet hurt in these heels.”

“So why did you wear them?”

“Um, hello? It’s a wedding? I had to look good.” She narrowed her gaze at their parents. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass Linda.”

Gavin sighed. “Hope, forget Mom and enjoy yourself.”

“I’m trying to. But she ordered me—ordered me, Gavin—to stay away from some of the bride’s guests. Like I need to be told who to socialize with. Del’s friends are perfectly nice.”

“But are they housebroken? That’s the question,” he murmured, eyeballing the guys with myriad tattoos and arms as big as Landon’s.

Hope continued to rant. “Give me a friggin’ break. When will she learn I’m a grown woman? I’m twenty-nine years old.”

“With a history of dating losers,” he said bluntly.

“You’re really going there?” A pause. “The guy who slept with Michelle and half her bitchy groupies?”

“Oh yeah. I’m a moron. I admit it. Hey, I already hit rock bottom. Drank myself silly, slept with the wrong people, and still have nightmares about crap I want to forget. My shit is hanging out there for all the world to see.” He sighed, sounding pitiful.

She frowned, looking remorseful. “Gavin, I—”

“I’m not upset about it.” Truth was truth, though he hated his family worrying about him. So he forced a grin. “And that big old pity card helps me get the girls like you wouldn’t believe. Marine with a sob story—A-plus, baby.”

Her pity cleared up, as he’d hoped it would. “You are such an ass.”

“So they say, but normally, it’s more like, ‘Oh my God, his ass is so amazing. It’s like touching gold. I want him so bad,’” he drew out, turning his sister pink.

“And here I thought sitting with you would be better than being drooled over by that guy.”

Gavin immediately straightened. “What? That guy was bothering you? Why didn’t you tell me that straight off? The one you just left, or some other schmuck?”

She blinked. “Why, Gavin, I didn’t know you cared.”

“Of course I do. You think I want some asshole bothering my baby sister…again?” He and Landon had taken care of the last creep to mistreat her weeks ago. “Which one was it?”

She paused, studied him, then reluctantly pointed to the biggest guy there. “Him.” She sucked in a breath, then released a shaky sigh. “Okay, now I just feel stupid. I should be able to handle this kind of stuff.”

“Hope?”

“But, I don’t know. He scared me a little. Gavin, can you just nicely tell him I’m seeing someone else?”

“Are you?”

“No. But it might get him to leave me alone. I don’t want a scene or anything. Nothing physical. Just convince him to leave me be,” she said in a husky voice and blinked up at him.

Gavin automatically nodded, wishing like hell she’d pointed out one of the smaller of Del’s many guests. The guy bothering her was one of the bride’s employees, a mechanic at her garage. Rumor had it most of them hung out at a dive bar called Ray’s. He and Landon had visited once, when they’d beaten some manners into Hope’s ex. If Ray’s groupies hadn’t done time, it was a sure bet iron bars would figure at some point in their futures.

“Stay here.” He left Hope, determined to set those assholes from Webster’s Garage straight, when it dawned on him his sister hadn’t tried too hard to get him to mind his own business. He glanced behind him and saw her smirk, which quickly turned into a frown. So, the gloves were now officially off in the Donnigan Prank Wars. Good to know.

He walked to the big guy she’d indicated, a hulking bruiser a few inches taller than his own six two. He had short brown hair and tattoos creeping up his neck and peeking under the sleeves of his suit jacket. Gavin knew the guy and the two giants next to him worked for Del. Since Aunt Sophie and Del’s father, Liam, were dating, he knew more than he wanted to about Webster’s Garage. It was almost incestuous how closely everyone at this wedding was tied together.

Big Guy paused as he drew closer, and Gavin realized he’d already met this asshole. The guy had danced with Hope a few months ago, back when Del had thrown a pre-wedding party Gavin had been forced—once again by his mother—to attend.

“What?” the dick, Sam Something-or-Other, barked at him. The others with him turned as one, now silent and staring.

Just then, a beautiful blond joined them and frowned. “Sam, be nice.” She tugged his huge arm back down by his side. “Hi,” she said to Gavin. “I’m Ivy.”

Gavin smiled. “I’m Gavin. I need your man to do me a favor.”

“No.” Sam didn’t blink.

Next to him, the two guys chuckled. The taller one snorted. “This is you being nice?”

“Fuck off,” Sam said to Gavin or his friend. Gavin couldn’t tell which. No emotion. Not even a glare.

Gavin ignored the suggestion. “So I need you to pretend to hit me.”

“Don’t you dare,” Ivy admonished.

Sam gave a slow smile. “Pretend? I can do one better than that.”

“Oh, now I really want to know where this is going,” the other of Sam’s friends said, his voice slightly accented, attesting to a Latino heritage.

Tall guy sighed. “Lou, don’t encourage him. Cyn will have my head if he starts any shit.”

“Don’t swear,” Sam said. “Not in front of Ivy.”

“But you told me to fuck off,” Gavin added, enjoying himself. He glanced over his shoulder at his sister and saw her sudden concern. Yeah, not so funny if he got pounded by three giants instead of just the one.

“I did?” Sam blinked. “Oh, sorry, baby.”

“Actually, I prefer Gavin. But if you want to call me baby, I guess that’s okay since you’re doing me a solid.”

Sam’s scowl was enough to freeze hell over. His friends just laughed.

Ivy blushed. So adorable. How the hell had this bruiser landed such a pretty, innocent woman?

“You sure you two are together?” he asked her.

That got him an even more frigid scowl.

“Yeah, we keep asking her that. I’m Foley, by the way.” Tall guy held out a hand. Gavin shook it. “He’s Lou. And you’re…Gavin, right? Where’s Lancelot?”

Gavin laughed, then coughed to hide his amusement, not wanting Hope to see it. “My brother, Landon, is over with my parents. He’s being tortured as we speak. My mother is fixated on him and his fiancée having the perfect wedding.”

Sam nodded. “Fiancée, huh? Good. I guess he did get his head out of his ass.”

“Huh?”

“I gave him some advice a while ago.”

Lou sputtered, in the process of drinking a beer. “Sorry. Thought you said you were giving out advice.”

“This I have to hear,” Ivy muttered.

Sam flushed, and the look was so incongruous with the badass vibe he projected that Gavin could only stare. “Come on, Ivy. I’m not that bad.”

“No, you are,” Foley said. “I mean, totally awful. Just the worst.”

“The worst,” Lou agreed.

“The advice?” Gavin prodded, loving this.

“Well, your brother was wandering around in the rain, feeling sorry for himself. So I told him to be more like my man Foley here and sac up. Go get his ass in front of his girl and make her see things his way.”

“That’s your stellar advice?” Ivy laughed. “Oh boy. It’s a good thing you have the guys and me to help you, or you’d still be single.”

“Well, maybe.” Sam shrugged, then wrapped an arm around Ivy’s shoulders. “But I have you, so it’s all good.”

She tugged him down so she could kiss him on the lips. The joy in her big, brown eyes didn’t lie. “That’s right, you do.” She popped him in the arm. “But you still need to be nice.” Then she shook her hand. “It’s like hitting a wall. Well, I’m going to go over and talk with the girls. Be good,” she warned one final time, then headed toward a stacked redhead and a woman who looked familiar.

A sweet woman with cocoa-colored skin and bouncy blondish-brown curls. She was a stunner, for sure. How did he know her? And why, when presented with such a delightful package, did his thoughts instead veer toward blue eyes, yoga pants, and a snarky temperament?

“What are you looking at?” Lou asked, his low voice threatening despite his calm.

“I know her.”

Sam moved closer. So did Foley. “Yeah? How do you know Rena?”

“Oh right. Rena, from Ray’s. She’s all right.” Gavin nodded and realized how much space around him he’d lost as the men started to crowd him. The music turned from a slow ballad to something throbbing, techno punk, and loud. The bass pulsated through his bones, and sudden anxiety filled him. The remembrance of loud booms signaling danger. Shouting. Violence.

Not here. It’s all good. But it’s so loud.

His heart raced like a jackhammer.

He must have looked off because the guys frowned at him, and Lou took a step forward. Gavin instinctively clenched his hands into fists and jerked back. He bumped against the edge of a table, spilling someone’s water. He stilled and tried to make sense of everything. Breathing in and out, focusing on what was real and in front of him helped. But not with so many faces too close.

“Hey, we were just kidding.” Foley moved back a space. “Lou, step away, man.”

Lou shrugged and moved back. “Still didn’t say how he knows Rena, exactly.”

Gavin tried to be subtle about evening his breathing, but he feared he looked like a scared rabbit. Still, better a rabbit than a man two steps away from chopping Lou in the throat, shoving the flat of his hand under Foley’s nose to force shards of cartilage into his brain, and kicking Sam in the knee to take him down before putting him down permanently.

In seconds he’d evaluated and realized how to even the playing field. But hey, he hadn’t acted on it.

He waited, forcing himself to be calm, wanting to be anywhere but surrounded by strangers in an unfamiliar place.

“Sorry.” Sam surprised him with the apology, his eyes cautious. “Didn’t mean anything.”

Gavin felt like a fool. He shrugged, keeping it casual. “Nah, no biggie. I just… I, ah… Sometimes the music hurts my ears.”

Foley grinned. “That crap? Hurts my whole fuckin’ body. But at least it’s not some bullshit country or folk music.” He made a face. “You would not believe the noise the guys like to play in the garage.”

Gavin forced a commiserating grin, felt the sweat gathering at the back of his neck, and slid into the space Lou had vacated—one with an avenue of escape.

“There’s a nice quiet spot outside.” Sam nodded to a tiny outdoor courtyard dimly lit by strands of white lights through tree branches. The doors to access it had been closed earlier. “I was out there before, when it got too stuffy after the McCauleys took forever making toasts.”

“Yeah, thanks. That’s probably what I need. Some fresh air.”

Sam nodded, his gaze thoughtful. Lou and Foley had started arguing about something and stepped away.

“So Rena,” Gavin said, wanting to put that to rest. “I met her a few weeks ago at Ray’s. My brother and I had to take care of some jerk messing with our sister.”

Sam didn’t seem surprised. “So that was you, huh? The preppy twins who put a beatdown on Greg. Heard you guys did some nice work. You should stop by sometime for a beer and darts. You play?”

“Nah. But I might take you up on a drink.” Of soda. God knew what he’d go home with at Ray’s if he imbibed. No way he’d be lucky enough to snag Rena.

“You do that.” Sam gave him a final once-over, grunted, then stepped away.