by C J Burright
His smirk broke into a high-noon smile. “So you didn’t like kissing me?”
She crossed her arms and forced her expression to stay serene. If she gave him any wiggle room, she’d have no hope of escape. “It was tolerable.”
“Tolerable?” His smile died, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek not to laugh. “As in not exactly painful, but not something to get excited about? That’s like comparing me to a prostate exam.”
“The Ambrose dramatic gene runs strong in you, my child.” The grin she’d been holding back escaped. “Fine. I’ll concede and say kissing you was probably more fun than any medical procedure.”
He glanced at her, and his attention dropped to her mouth. “Ben-zonna, you have a beautiful smile. Every time I get a real one from you, I start plotting ways to earn the next.”
Adara hunched in her coat and let her smile fade. While she flirted with Garret, Gia was stranded with tanked Hoedown Joe and Farmer Fred, probably up to her eyebrows in margaritas. And it was all her fault. Gia was there, in that state of mind, because she’d neglected her promise to Joey. Joey had predicted Gia’s reaction to life without him, had assigned her to guard duty and she’d abandoned her post. No matter the excuse, she’d made a vow and broken it.
Again.
“I hate it when you sink into your thoughts and shut me out.” Garret brushed his fingers over her wrist, a soft reassurance. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Normally, she’d leave the silence on, keep her secrets close, but he probably already knew about her promise to Joey anyway. “I feel responsible. I promised to look out for Gia, and instead, I was selfish and neglected her.”
“You shouldn’t and you aren’t.” He glanced at the electronic map in the dashboard guiding them to their destination. “Eventually, people need to make their own choices, deal with their own mistakes.”
She blew out a breath. “I know that. But until Gia has her head on straight again, I promised to be there. And I flopped.”
“What if she never figures it out, Adara?” He pulled into the gravel parking lot of the Idle Heifer and they both winced as the tire hit a pothole the size of New York.
The distraction was a relief. Joey hadn’t specified a timeline, and guarding his girlfriend for the rest of her life wasn’t what she’d been thinking of when she’d agreed to his promise. More than that, the question strangled, her own situation the noose. What if she never figured out a remedy beyond the temporary fix of silence and solitude? She escaped the car before Garret pressed her for an answer.
The neon-green sign flashed like a beacon to the freeway half a mile away, probably what lured enough customers to keep it open, and calling the bar ‘seedy’ was generous. Even with details dulled by the streetlights, she wouldn’t walk in there alone without a gun, a chain and some brass knuckles. If Gia was still alive and in one piece, it would be a miracle.
Garret slid up beside her. “I say we poke our heads in the doorway, and if we don’t see Gia, we run,” he said in a sober tone. “I don’t want to die tonight.”
“Scared?” She elbowed him in the hip.
“Sh-h. I’m praying.” But he followed on her heels, and before she reached the door, he edged ahead of her and opened it himself, a protective gesture she appreciated. In silence.
Despite the no smoking law, a cloud of sweet smoke emerged, and Adara coughed.
“Oh. Idle Heifer.” Garret smirked and shielded his eyes. “Makes sense now. Too much grass made the cows lazy.” He coughed. “Get it?”
How could she not. The marijuana fumes made her eyes burn and her head pound. “I changed my mind about feeling bad. If I kill her, don’t stop me.”
Through the haze and across the room, Gia slouched at the bar counter, a margarita glass in one fist, a ginormous guy in overalls and baseball cap next to her. Adara marched to the counter and shoved into the empty seat beside her. “You’re so dead, G.”
Gia pivoted in her stool. Her eyes were bloodshot, every golden curl fallen flat and her silk blouse was rumpled, as if she’d been toying with the buttons all night. Blinking slowly, she gave Adara a sloppy smile and threw her arms around her neck. Only Adara’s grip kept the other woman in her seat. “Dar!”
“What part of ‘dead’ did you not understand?” Adara disentangled herself from Gia’s embrace, glaring enough to make any glamor-girl cower. “You attended a social engagement without me.”
A dismissive wave followed, and Gia’s blue eyes widened on something behind Adara. Her mouth dropped open, and it took all of Adara’s strength to keep her upright as the smaller woman tried to leap from her stool and stumbled in her stiletto boots instead. Her gaze bounced between Adara and Garret like a pinball machine in slow motion, finally settling on Adara.
“You tricky miss.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You were with him when I called, weren’t you? After the irate lecture proclaiming the absolute ridiculousness of my theory, the I-want-to-be-alone routine and the how-dare-you silent treatment afterward?”
“What theory?” Garret asked, stepping between them despite her firm request to not interfere while she killed Gia.
Gia was so, so dead. “Nothing.”
“Yeah-uh.” Gia walked her fingers up Garret’s arm, pausing to squeeze his bicep. “Jumping on Garret Ambrose is totally a ‘something’. I bet that would cure just about anything.”
Garret lifted his eyebrows, and his gaze went straight to Adara, probably immediately noticing the flush in her face and misinterpreting it. He clamped his lips together, the only thing that saved him. If he’d smiled, she would have punched him in the throat, plucked the car keys from his fingers and left him to discuss the merits of Gia’s theory with the independent counsel of Farmer Ted.
The stool still occupied by Gia’s drinking companion squeaked, and the farmer stood. He had to be at least seven feet tall and looked put out at the interference in his two-person party, more specifically that Gia focused her attention on Garret. Maybe he was the bartender slash owner too. Other than a couple of hipsters smoking in one dark corner, no one else occupied the joint. Joint. Adara fisted her hands. It was definitely time for takeoff.
She cleared her throat. “Where’s your purse, G?”
While Garret silently endured the attention, his expression set on mildly amused, Gia traced small circles over his arm and flung her free hand at the bar. Her leopard-print purse rested on the floor between stools, right beside Monster Farmer.
Perfect. She could either politely ask him to move or crawl in the space between the bar and stools, and she wasn’t sure which one would be easier. She lifted her gaze to his rugged face. Sunburned skin, glaring blue eyes, an ax-murderer frown. Yeah, she was better off wriggling along the floor, nabbing the purse and bolting.
“The lady wasn’t finished with her drink.” Farmer’s voice thundered, a warning before the storm hit. He folded his arms over his flannel shirt and overalls. “I paid for it. She’s drinking it.”
Adara stiffened. This was why Joey had asked her to be Gia’s backup. Gia had a tendency to attract attention of all kinds, and despite two years with Joey’s positive reinforcement, she hadn’t learned she didn’t need to absorb or accept it all, that she was worth more than a one-night fling in a back-room office or an online romance scam.
Without breaking the farmer’s gaze, she jerked a twenty from her purse and set it on the counter. “Compensation. Thanks for keeping her company until I got here. Good to know chivalry still exists.”
Slowly, he dropped his arms and curled his hands into table-cracking fists. “We were having a fine conversation. I don’t think she’s ready to go.”
“Her call to me, asking me to pick her up, says otherwise.” Adara trotted out an apologetic smile, leaned over Garret and pushed Gia’s hand off his arm.
“Her words to me, five minutes ago,” Atlas rumbled, “indicated the only person she was leaving with was me. After her drink.” His gaze slid to Gia, who was agai
n exploring Garret’s arm.
Adara resisted narrowing her eyes. She really didn’t like Gia touching Garret, especially now that she knew how firm his arms were, how she’d liked having her hands on him. Having his hands on her, his lips. Maybe she should leave. If Gia wanted Garret, she had every faith in her friend to win him over. Gia could save her from herself because, clearly, she was losing the battle on her own.
Garret brushed her fingers with his, the barest slide of skin on skin, breaking through her thoughts. The heat in his midnight eyes curled through her like winter fire, contained, comforting despite the hint of danger. And he was dangerous, dangerous to her walls, her solitude, her heart.
“I say let the lady speak for herself.” Farmer’s booming voice regained her focus. “She’s an adult.”
Garret kept silent, wise considering the farmer’s hellfire eyes watched Gia’s hand on his arm, each second of contact making the blue burn brighter.
“An adult whose judgment is impaired by marijuana fumes and—” Adara leaned into Gia’s personal space, breaking the farmer’s line of sight. “How many margaritas did you have, G?”
Gia cocked her head, lifting her gaze to the stained ceiling tiles. She blinked a few times and chewed on her lower lip. Finally, she brightened. “Four!” Her high-octane breath blasted Adara’s face. “I think.”
Strapping on her no-nonsense teacher expression, Adara straightened to her full height and tipped her head back, giving Farmer Fred the full brunt of her third-grade authority. She launched into a Tatum-sized dose of Pride and Prejudice. “I find it reprehensible, good sir, that instead of charitably escorting a member of the fairer sex to safety, as any gentleman of unquestionable dignity and character should, you sought to besmirch an inebriated lady in good standing with society and possibly leave her reputation in ruins. She is most certainly in need of a hot compress, some tonic and a good night’s slumber, not additional poisons in her delicate system.”
“Besmirch?” Gia whispered to Garret, who shook his head once.
With an offended sniff and praying the farmer’s befuddled expression meant he wouldn’t pound them all quite yet, she pressed between the bar stools and swiped Gia’s purse from the floor. A few quick backward steps took her out of immediate pummel range and beside the reinforcing comfort of Garret’s solid frame. While not giant-tall, he didn’t have the wimp vibe going on. He’d be some help in a fight, whether or not he claimed to possess any athletic abilities.
Adara shouldered Gia’s purse and met the farmer’s slitted gaze. With one finger, she scooted the twenty-dollar bill an inch closer to him. “We shall take our leave now, sir, and have no fear of us intruding upon your solicitude again.”
Not daring to breathe, she grasped Gia’s arm and dragged her to the exit, Garret right behind them. She opened the door and the cool night welcomed her, sweet and fresh. Her pace didn’t slow until they reached the car.
“I’m relatively certain we owe our lives to the soothing nature of cannabis.” Garret opened the door and helped Gia into a slouching heap on the back seat. He flashed a smile over his shoulder. “And going Miss Lizzy on Dolph Lundgren was a brilliant move. He’s still trying to figure out if he would’ve got lucky by offering Gia his handkerchief—or the grease-stained diesel rag in his back pocket.” He shrugged. “Whatever was handy.”
Adara grasped his coat sleeve as he shut the back door. “I’m probably going to regret saying this.” She blew out a breath. “Thank you for coming with me, for being here.”
Something unnerving moved in his dark eyes, strong enough to show up in the streetlamp’s glow. His customary smile changed, slipped into a yearning, tender expression that made her ache, like she’d just lost another piece of her soul that she’d never get back. “All you have to do is ask, neshama. Wherever you’re going, that’s where I want to be.”
He stepped close, and she was too spellbound by his words to move away. Cupping her face between both his hands, he bent his head toward hers, but instead of taking her lips as she expected, he pressed a soft, lingering, devastating kiss on her forehead.
Her heart squeezed, struggling beneath the web of emotions clamoring for dominance. His kiss seemed to echo inside her and awaken all the emotions she’d been trying so hard to keep buried, not merely because it was meant to comfort rather than entice. It thrummed between them in unspoken communication, deeper than any words, a decision made and unsaid, waiting to be acknowledged. She trembled at the intensity.
A pounding came from in the car, and Gia pressed her face against the window between her flattened palms, distorting her pretty features.
Adara sighed. “You’d better pick up the speed to grandpa on a scooter before she pukes in your beast.”
He beat her to the door and opened for her, allowing a gush of mixed intoxicant-laced air.
“Dar and Garret sitting in a tree,” Gia sang, hiccupping every other word.
Adara glared at her friend as she climbed in and shut the door. “I haven’t yet turned over the death card, G. Don’t push me.”
On another hiccup, Gia gave her a crooked grin.
Garret opened the driver’s side and slid in. He was humming the same tune Gia had started.
“Don’t make me kill you too,” she muttered to him, glowering at no one in particular.
The humming choked, but she sensed his smirk. She didn’t encourage him by acknowledging it, and when the motor crooned to life, she sat back in her seat. Still, she couldn’t relax. The heat from his kiss on her forehead remained, seared on her skin like a brand.
“What were you thinking, G?” She directed the words to her right, to the space between her seat and the window, to avoid even chancing a look at Garret. “Why would you let anyone you don’t know drive you anywhere, let alone to the countryside and a bar called The Brainless Cow?”
“Idle Heifer,” Garret corrected cheerfully as he pulled carefully out of the potholed parking lot and onto smooth pavement.
“We’ve been talking online for weeks.” Gia huffed. “It’s not like he was a stranger.”
Adara’s best response was a strangled noise.
“So he wasn’t all that.” Gia’s voice snapped. “At least I’m not sitting at home avoiding life.”
“Online dating isn’t what I equate with life.” Adara gritted her teeth and faced the windshield. Feeling the weight of Garret’s watchful gaze on her, she focused on the darkness beyond. If only she could just drift into it and disappear, no promises, no pain, no memories.
Garret reached across the center console and hooked his pinkie with hers. He squeezed once and let go, an ‘I’m here, stay with me’. Annoying tears burned her eyes. She hated his seeming ability to read her mind. Hated it almost as much as she hated how he effortlessly slipped into her solitude. She didn’t want to extricate his presence, didn’t want to return to life as is, which was becoming a predicament.
The scent of fumes strengthened, and Gia stuck her head between the front bucket seats, clearly not wearing her seatbelt. “I’ll tell you a secret, Dar.” The slurred words were hushed. “I miss Joey too. All the time.”
Adara’s throat tightened. She didn’t want to discuss Joey, not tonight, not ever. especially with Garret as a helpless eavesdropper.
“He’s irrepressible.” Gia sighed.
Adara snorted softly. “You mean irreplaceable?”
“Uh-uh. And I figured out how to deal with life minus Joey.”
Twisting in her seat, Adara met Gia’s droopy, bloodshot gaze. Solitude was her preferred method of warding off the pain, and while it might not be the healthiest coping technique, at least it didn’t include drugs or dishonorable dudes. “Losers who take you to pot bars aren’t what Joey wanted for you.”
Garret wisely focused on the road, obviously trying to be less intrusive while a painful, personal conversation went on right beside him. He just kept adding gold stars to the progress chart in her head.
With an air of dismissal, Gia sl
umped and rested her temple against the headrest. “Life is too short to stay stuck in misery and too long to hang your heart out to dry. Switch the care burner off and have fun while you can, however and wherever you find it. That, my grim girl Dar, is how you survive losing Joey.”
Needles prickled through Adara’s limbs. Gia spoke the words with solid determination, a practiced mantra proclaimed so many times that belief outweighed any doubt, yet threaded there, nearly hidden, remained a note of desperation. Adara recognized it because she performed the same act, told herself lies until they sounded true, and she wasn’t sure what falsehood she’d turn to when it all crashed in.
Chapter Twenty
During Friday afternoon recess, Garret rapped his knuckles on Adara’s desk and waited until she raised her head from the red-pen artwork on some unlucky student’s paper. “How’s online-dating bachelorette number one feeling today?”
She grimaced, and while the expression was intended to convey displeasure, it merely drew his attention to her lovely mouth and reignited the memories from the previous night. He’d replayed kissing her uncountable times, imagination taking him to what might have progressed if Gia hadn’t called. Grieving or not, the woman deserved a vicious hangover.
“The aspirin and water I made her chug after puking and before passing out worked like a charm.” Another angry, red line scratched into existence, joining the others on the paper. Someone wasn’t getting an A. “She dragged me off the couch before my alarm went off, the witch.”
“Nice of you to stay with her last night.” He propped his hip on the edge of her desk and crossed his ankles. “I would have preferred to have you all to myself.”
Adara sat back in her chair and gave him the look he’d pegged as her third-grader seek and destroy. “Mr. Ambrose, despite the occurrences last night, which I appreciate—”
“And enjoyed.” He grinned.
Her eyes narrowed. “We’re at work, surrounded by impressionable young minds.”
He made a show of looking around the empty classroom. “It’s recess, darling. Break time.”
