by Alex Grayson
“She home?” Self-conscious, Ahiga rarely uses his voice except on occasion at home with us.
“At work. She’ll be home for dinner.”
There’s a long pause and I glance over to find him looking at me expectantly.
“And so will I.”
“Good,” he says in his monotone voice, but a grin splits his face as he turns gaze out the window.
Luna
“Good to see you bright-eyed for the first time in a while.”
Damian is grinning ear to ear, standing by the window when I walk into the office.
“Shut it,” I mumble, willing the blush I feel on my cheeks to subside. It’s clear we had an audience when Ouray pressed me up against the SUV and kissed me stupid. “What did I miss?” I quickly divert his attention.
“Mrs. McNamee asked for a lawyer and is more stoic than fucking Buddha,” he fills me in. “But the mister is scrambling to save his hide, throwing his wife under the bus in the process.”
“Poor kids,” I observe.
“They’re with his family. Hope the grandparents have more backbone than their father. He quickly caved when we suggested he’s facing an added charge of attempted murder for the attack on you. He swears he knew nothing about that. I’m inclined to believe him, since I get the impression his wife is the sharp one, despite his impressive resumé.”
“And the SUV? Any word on that?”
“Abandoned at the small airstrip, just south of Cortez, last night. There’s a record of a private plane leaving the airport a few hours before. Jasper is digging into the shell company listed as the owner, but I have a feeling whoever was driving the SUV has long skipped the country.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, well, you win some, you lose some. We’ll see what we can get out of McNamee and if it’ll be enough to at least put those two away.”
By the time five comes along, I’m tired. All I’ve done is write up a suspect profile for a case the Durango PD has called in our help on, but I guess my lack of sleep last night is catching up to me.
I stop at the City Market on the way home and pick up fixings for a taco dinner. Ahiga’s favorite. Ouray’s Traverse is parked in front of the garage when I drive up to the house.
Coming in the front door, I can smell something cooking.
“Hey.” Ouray turns from the stove when I walk into the kitchen and drop the grocery bags on the counter.
“Hi.” I barely have a chance to shrug out of my coat when I’m pulled into his arms. “Whatcha cooking?”
“Tacos.” He grins down at me. “The boy and I stopped at the store on our way out of town. What did you get?”
“Same.”
“Brilliant minds and all that,” he mumbles, right before his tongue sweeps in my mouth and every single thought leaves me as I wrap my arms around his neck.
A loud knock on the counter interrupts us.
Not sure what’s worse, Dad with his head up his ass or his tongue down your throat.
I can’t help chuckle when our son rolls his eyes in dramatic fashion, until I realize what he called Ouray. He’s called me Mom before, almost by accident, but as far as I know he’s never called Ouray Dad.
A quick glance at my husband shows him swallowing hard, and his eyes come to me, more than a little misty.
Is dinner ready?
“Give me five, Son.”
<<<<>>>>
If you’d like to learn how Ouray and Luna got their start,
read their story in HWY550 of my Rock Point Series!!
About Freya
Award-winning author Freya Barker loves writing about ordinary people with extraordinary stories.
Driven to make her books about 'real' people; she creates characters who are perhaps less than perfect, each struggling to find their own slice of happy, but just as deserving of romance, thrills and chills in their lives.
Recipient of the ReadFREE.ly 2019 Best Book We've Read All Year Award for "Covering Ollie, the 2015 RomCon “Reader’s Choice” Award for Best First Book, “Slim To None”, and Finalist for the 2017 Kindle Book Award with “From Dust”, Freya continues to add to her rapidly growing collection of published novels as she spins story after story with an endless supply of bruised and dented characters, vying for attention!
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Last Night in Georgia
A Devil’s Highwaymen Short Story
Claire C. Riley
When you only have one night together, you make every minute count.
1
Arla
“I need two more pitchers for table four, Bobby,” I said as I dropped my tray onto the bar top. “And make it snappy.” I clicked my fingers, laughing when Bobby raised an eyebrow at me.
“You know, just because this is your last shift don’t mean I won’t fire your ass.” Bobby grabbed an empty pitcher and pushed it under the pump before throwing me a smile to show he was joking.
“Aaah, you’d never fire me.” I smirked.
“Keep that smart mouth of yours yammering and we’ll find out.”
I chuckled, turning to look at Katie, one of the other barmaids, as she came over. She was a thirty-something flirty little thing with short blond hair and the smallest waist I’d ever seen.
“A pitcher and a JD when you’re ready, Bobby.” She bumped her hip against mine and smiled. “I can’t believe this is it,” she said. Her smile was wide but her eyes were sad. We’d grown close this past couple of years and I was going to miss her like crazy.
“I know,” I agreed. “You could still come with me, you know,” I pleaded.
“Not a fucking chance!” Bobby interjected, slamming the pitchers of beer down on my tray. “It’s bad enough you leaving me high and dry like this, but you’re not taking my best waitress with you.”
“Hey,” Beth, one of the other barmaids on shift, whined as she came from behind the bar tying her apron around her neck. “I thought I was your best waitress!”
Bobby looked her up and down, his gaze filled with lust. “You’re definitely one of the best, Beth.”
We all knew they had a casual on/off relationship, but that’s all it was: casual and on/off. Bobby was not the sort of man to be tied down to one woman.
“You’re disgusting,” she said, slapping at his hand when he reached for her. She winked over her shoulder at him and headed over to a busy table.
Yeah, Beth wasn’t the sort of woman to be tied down to just one man either.
I shook my head and turned back to Katie as I picked up my tray. “You sure I can’t change your mind?” I tried again.
“Sweetheart, I would love to come traveling the world with you. It’d sure beat this shitty little town, but”—she stared around her and sighed—“this shitty little town is my home. I can’t imagine ever leaving it. Not even for a year.” She patted my hand and I headed over to my table with the beer.
I was going to miss Katie.
And even Bobby and Beth.
Hell, I was even going to miss this place—The Laughing Moose. I’d been working here since I’d left school. Saving up every cent I could so that one day I would get to see the world. And now that day was here…and I was as much terrified as I was excited.
The plan was a year, but who knew if I’d actually ever come back. If I could get work, it could be longer. It could be forever. I planned on starting in Europe. I was desperate to watch the sun set over the Eiffel Tower in Paris and the coliseum in Rome, eat pizza in Naples, cycle in Holland, and ride a gondola in Venice. There was so much in the world that I wanted to see. So much that I wanted to experience. I refused to believe that my life would always revolve around this one small town.
I wanted more.
Needed it, even.
But mostly, I’d promised myself as a little girl that I would have more.
That I wouldn’t settle like every other girl here did.
That I would go out and experi
ence everything that life had to give me.
And tomorrow, I would.
Just one last shift at the Laughing Moose stood between me and my childhood obsession of seeing the world.
Nothing had mattered these past couple of years but this one, singular goal. I’d given up so much—a social life, boyfriends, even friendships—because all I’d wanted to do was work my butt off and save as much money as possible so I could get the hell out of here and go see the world. And if I did come back, it would be on my own terms and with a heart full of fulfilment.
I smiled at the nervous fluttering in my stomach and headed to my table.
“Beers up, boys,” I said, cheerily handing it over. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, ma’am,” the four men chorused, as if practiced.
I smiled and moved to the next table, clearing the glasses away and quickly wiping it down before heading back to the bar. Both Katie and Beth were standing and waiting for Bobby to finish up their orders, but he was distracted, with his cell phone jammed between his ear and chin.
I headed around the bar to help him out, since my tables were all good for the time being, and Bobby nodded his thanks and took off into the back.
“Two beers and two whiskey on the rocks,” Katie said.
“Two pitchers,” Beth said with a smile.
I served the drinks and grabbed a rag from the side to wipe over the bar as they left. Bobby was a great bar owner, keeping both his employees and customers happy, but he was ridiculously untidy. I wrung out the rag and wiped over my hands, looking up as the door to the bar swung open.
It was a warm evening, and the bar wasn’t exactly busy for a Sunday, but it still felt like it fell silent and the customers disappeared when I saw him.
He was all six foot two of pure masculinity. His jeans hung low on his hips, and his cotton tee clung to every muscle as he moved. And unlike every other man around here, his hair was short, almost to the bone, and his face beard free.
I picked my jaw up off the bar and flipped my hair back as he came closer, trying to not look as mesmerized as I felt.
2
Caleb
Throwing my cigarette to the ground, I pushed open the door of the Laughing Moose and headed inside. I had an hour to kill before my final meeting, and it was just what I needed: a cold beer and some time to think. I guess I was going to have a lot of time to think soon—only it wouldn’t be in a bar.
I rubbed a hand across my freshly shaved jaw and headed to the bar. It felt strange with no beard. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my own skin like this, but it felt right somehow. A clean shave and a fresh start. It would be the last time I shaved for at least eighteen months.
“Beer please, darlin’.” I slid onto a stool without looking up. My dark thoughts were preoccupied, and I couldn’t seem to shake the heavy burden I was bearing. “You seen Bobby tonight?” I asked, pulling out my cell to check the time.
“He’s just taking a call out back,” came the softly spoken reply.
I looked up, seeing the pretty face behind the voice. She finished pulling the beer and slid it over to me and I fished some bills out of my pocket and handed them over.
“One for yourself too,” I offered, putting down another bill.
“Maybe later.” She dropped one of the bills into her apron pocket and I nodded, too dumb to reply.
She was pretty, with delicate features and a mass of curly auburn hair. I sipped my beer slowly, watching as she moved around the bar area serving people. I didn’t come to the Laughing Moose often, but I was sure as hell I’d remember her. When she’d finished up with the last customer, I signaled her over.
Hands in the front of her apron pockets, she came over looking shy and coy, but with the confidence of a woman who knew how to handle herself all the same. She was an oxymoron if ever I saw one. How could something be both soft and strong, and shy and confident, all at the same time?
Her gaze dropped to my beer, which was still half full. “What can I get you?”
“A conversation?” I asked with a smile. Honesty was the best policy, and right then I would have loved to have a conversation with this woman more than anything else.
She laughed. “Sure thing.”
“Name’s Caleb,” I said, holding out a hand.
She glanced down at it before finally reaching out and taking it. “Nice to meet you, Caleb. I’m Arla.”
I held her hand in mine for longer than necessary, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against my rough palm.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before, Caleb,” she said quizzically, angling her head to the side as if to get a better look of me.
I chuckled, holding my chin in my hand and showing her my profile. “You sure?”
“I think I’d remember you.” She smirked.
I arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? And why would that be?”
Her cheeks heated and she tried to maintain her casual smile. “Let’s just say that I work a lot and I’m good with faces.”
Bobby came from out back, his heavy stomps cutting though the air. He stopped short when he saw me, his features falling into an expression of sympathy, and then shock when he saw my hair—or lack of, since I’d shaved it all off earlier that night.
“Ha—”
“Caleb,” I interjected firmly as I shifted my gaze to him. This girl didn’t seem to know who I was, and I wanted to keep it that way.
“Caleb,” he grumbled, his gaze shifting between me and Arla. “Can you bring up another case of whiskey, Arla?” he asked, and she nodded before scooting away. Bobby came around the bar and I slid off my stool. He held out a hand, and when I took it he pulled me in to his chest and thumped my back. “I’m sorry this shit has fallen on you, brother. It shouldn’t be like this.”
“I know, but we’re a brotherhood and that’s what we do, right?” I replied.
Bobby patted my back a couple more times and then let me go. His eyes raked over my face and head. “The fuck happened here, Hawk?”
I dragged a hand over my shaved head, feeling naked and exposed. My head was cold, my chin was cold, but mostly, my soul felt cold. Goddamn fucking Hardy and the shit he got the club into.
“Just wanted to be someone else when I went in there,” I said, looking away. “The shit that happens can’t touch me that way.”
He nodded in understanding. “You look fucking weird. Used to seeing you with a chin full of hair and a head full of spikes.” He shook his head and we both glanced over to the bar as Arla came back out with a case of whiskey. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry. And there’ll be free beer for life when you’re back.”
I chuckled. “And whiskey?”
He scowled and headed back around to the other side of the bar. “Don’t push your luck.” He slung an arm over Arla’s shoulders and she rolled her eyes. “You met my girl Arla here?”
“Your girl?”
“I am not your girl,” she laughed.
“Sure you are—you just don’t know it yet,” he laughed back. “See this man here,” he said, pointing to me. My stomach lurched as I wondered what the hell was going to come out of his mouth next. “This man is a damn legend. Heart of gold and a soul as deep as the ocean.”
Arla looked between me and Bobby in surprise, and I was pretty sure my own face had the same expression. He squeezed his eyes closed and I shrugged when Arla looked to me.
“You okay, Bobby?” she asked gently.
He opened his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just feels like everyone is leaving.” He shook his head and turned away before heading into the back.
3
Arla
I stared after Bobby, wondering what had just happened. He’d said he was going to miss me, but I hadn’t realized quite how much. Guilt clawed at me and I wondered for the millionth time if I was really doing the right thing.
“You okay?” Caleb asked.
I turned back to face him, feeling my cheek
s blush as our gazes connected. He was so damn handsome he practically took my breath away. With eyes that I could drown in and a body that looked so strong and solid I would stake my life that it was impenetrable, I couldn’t look away. His jaw was solid and angular, and a dimple popped in his left cheek whenever he smiled. If I wasn’t leaving the next day I would no doubt be being more cautious around him. Because a man like that wouldn’t give a woman like me anything but a broken heart. But, as it were, I could throw caution to the wind and not worry. At least for one night.
“Yeah, I think that was aimed at me,” I said, leaning my elbows on the bar.
The evening was dying down and only a few tables remained. I looked over, seeing Katie sitting at in a booth with Beth and a couple of guys, since it was so quiet.
“You?” Caleb probed, and I switched my gaze back to him.
“Yeah, I’m uh, I’m leaving tomorrow,” I said with a smile.
That was a good thing.
It was exciting.
I was going to experience so much.
Yet something niggled me deep down.
Caleb’s eyebrows pulled in ever so slightly, but his smile remained in place. “Well, if that’s what’s taken the spark out of those pretty eyes of yours, don’t give it another thought. I’m leaving tomorrow too, so the burden is mine to share.”
“Oh? Where are you going?”
His gaze held mine, but a shadow fell across his face. “You first.”
I laughed. “I don’t think you’re ready for this conversation.”
“Try me.”
I pulled out my notepad from my apron and placed it on the counter between us. Excitement bubbled in me. “I’m going to see the world,” I said excitedly. “I’m starting in Europe—Paris specifically—and then heading over to China and then Japan, before swinging by Australia to see some kangaroos, before dropping in on Africa. And then finally a quick pass through Namibia and then on to Brazil before heading home. I’m planning on being gone a year, but who knows,” I said, “I may never come back.”
