Finding Focus by Jiffy Kate Read Free Book Online Page A

time ago. She’s one of those girls who was born here and will die here. All she’s waiting for is a sugar daddy or somebody stupid enough to knock her up . . . and that somebody sure as hell won’t be me.
    Tucker and I finally make our way back across to the booth where Dani and Deacon are laughing hysterically.
    Dani looks up and wipes tears from her eyes. When she notices Tucker standing next to me, she smiles brightly, and I’ll admit, I don’t like it. I’m hoping that’s not an I’d-like-to-show-you-my-panties smile. If I can’t have her, Tucker sure as hell can’t have her. If I can have her, or want her . . . or whatever, then he really sure as hell can’t have her. Bottom line: Tucker can’t have her.
    Fuck, what’s wrong with me?
    It’s like we’re seven years old again and I’m trying to prove I’m King of the Mountain.
    I run my hands through my hair a few times, willing myself to get a grip before I introduce my best friend to our guest.
    “Tucker, this is—”
    “Chuck! Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Tucker says, interrupting me.
    Dani looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Chuck, huh?” she asks, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “I knew that was what you said earlier.” She moves her gaze from me back to Tucker and her lips morph from a hardline to a smile. “Well, it’s Sheridan, actually, but you can call me Dani.” She accepts his hand and he gently raises hers to his mouth, placing a suave-ass kiss on the top.
    Who the hell does he think he is? The Cajun Casanova?
    “Nice to meet you, darlin’.”
    I feel my face heat up. Damn him.
    “Well,” I draw, trying to take her attention from Tucker. “It’s because you said you can walk just fine in those fancy shoes you were talkin’ about, but when you put on your Chucks, you’re trippin’ all over yourself. I thought it was cute, so—”
    “So, you thought you’d give me a nickname?” she asks, looking back at me. “And Chuck, of all things?” She laughs lightly, rolling her eyes, the annoyance slipping.
    “I could’ve called you Tripsy . . . or Miss Trips-A-Lot.”
    Deacon laughs while Dani tries to hold her composure, but I see the crack in her façade. “I hate you, Micah Landry. I just met you, and I already hate you.” I don’t miss the twitch of her lips as she tries to force a scowl on her beautiful face, so I give her another smirk, letting her know I’m on to her.
    “I see my work here is done,” Tucker says, slapping me once again on the shoulder. “I’m gonna head back to the stage and get this party started!” We all watch as he turns around and does some crazy jump-and-roll bit to get onto the stage. If I hadn’t known him my whole life, I’d swear the boy had been dropped on his head or teethed on paint chips as a baby, but the truth is, he just loves life and has a no-holds-barred approach to everything he does. It’s one of the things I love most about him. He completely encompasses the joie de vivre way of life.
    The band starts playing What’s Your Name , my favorite Lynyrd Skynyrd song, and I’m more than certain the song choice is for my benefit. I make a mental note to thank Tucker for that later . . . while I’m kicking his ass.
    For the next two hours, we listen to Hard Limits, drink lots of beer, and exchange smart-ass conversation. The evening feels easy, light . . . effortless. I don’t know a lot about Sheridan Reed, but she seems different from girls around here. It could be that new-girl appeal, like a shiny new toy, but something deep inside tells me it’s more than that.
    Deacon gets up from the table, stretching and yawning. “Well, kiddos, I think it’s our curfew.”
    Dani looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Really? You guys have a curfew?”
    “Not technically, but it is Saturday night, which means we have mass in the morning. No matter how late you stay out or how drunk your ass gets, you can not be late for mass.”
    “Well, sounds like