by Joanna Wylde
That apartment was supposed to be empty.
“We going out or not?” Danielle demanded.
“Yeah, let’s go out.”
“I’ll call Joe,” Blake said. “He’s into you, Becca.”
I shrugged, trying to picture Joe. I was pretty sure I remembered him—he’d come into the diner a few times.
“Doesn’t he live up in Kellogg?”
“Used to,” Blake replied. “But he’s crashing with me right now. Needed a place to stay. He started at the Laughing Tess last month and got tired of the drive.”
“Okay, we gotta find you something to wear,” Danielle said, moving toward the open window. “Something sexy. I’m so proud—my little girl is finally growing up!”
—
It was nearly eleven before we reached the bar.
Danielle and Blake had gotten busy in the bed of Joe Collins’ big Ford F-150 as we drove toward the Bitter Moose, which was illegal as hell. Fortunately the sheriff didn’t make it out here very often, so they were safe enough. Well, as safe as two people can be while having sex in the open back of a truck that’s driving sixty miles an hour down the highway at night.
“Glad you guys called me,” Joe said, reaching over to turn down the music. I stole a glance at him out of the corner of my eye, noting that he was a lot cuter than I remembered. Joe was a big guy—well over six feet—and built like a bull. He had short, dark hair, classically handsome features, and a quick smile full of teeth just crooked enough to give him a rough charm.
Very attractive.
Unfortunately, my nether regions could care less—what would it be like to kiss him? Maybe it was time to stop waiting for tinglies and just get it on. I’d only tried dating a few times since I’d come to Callup and none of them had ended particularly well.
“I’m glad we did, too,” I told him, which was true. Maybe he didn’t blow me away but he seemed like a nice guy. We could have fun together. “I guess I’m going to be working at the Moose soon—at least, that’s what Danielle says. I’ll have to talk to the manager tonight while we’re there . . .”
My voice trailed off as the implications hit me. Did I really want to meet my future boss for the first time while I was drunk? Wow, that was a super-stupid idea. But what else could I do? We were almost there and I didn’t have any magical sobriety pills tucked in the little pocket of my phone case.
Crap.
“I can’t believe I’m going to a job interview drunk.”
Joe grinned at me, then reached over to catch my hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “This isn’t an interview, and if they weeded out everyone who’d ever come into their bar for a few drinks, there’d be nobody left in the valley. Teresa Thompson is as laid-back as they come—she’ll give you a chance to prove yourself before making any decisions.”
“Is it as rough there as everyone says?”
He shrugged.
“It can be, I guess,” he said. “But Teresa doesn’t take shit off anyone, and she doesn’t stand for people messing with the staff. It won’t be anything like working at the Breakfast Table. You’ll bust ass, but you can make a fortune in tips on a good night.”
“How do you know so much about it?” I asked, curious.
“Used to bartend there with Blake,” he replied. “Couple years ago.”
“Wait, Blake tended bar at the Bitter Moose? Why the hell was he working at the Breakfast Table?”
Joe started laughing, then shook his head.
“You haven’t figured that out by now? It’s because of Danielle. He’s been batshit over her since high school, but she’s always blown him off. He used to date her older sister and she fed Danielle all kinds of crap about him. He finally took that job so he could actually spend some time with her, start to wear her down.”
“Really?” I asked, fascinated. “But he seems so . . . casual toward her. I mean, he was flirting with me tonight like crazy. I know they’re fucking around but I never got the impression he was looking for a relationship.”
“Think about it—have you ever seen Danielle get with someone for longer than a week? She’s not into the whole relationship thing, never has been. He’s going under her radar. It’s a setup.”
Wow. That really did make sense in a twisted way.
“That’s a lot of work.”
He shrugged.
“Blake’s just killing time until he finishes his degree anyway,” he said. “He’s got big plans. Doesn’t really matter where he works while he pulls it all together, so why not take a job close to Danielle? Of course now he’s got her where he wants her.”
I wanted to ask him more, but that’s when we pulled up to the bar, which was hopping even though it was a Wednesday night. The Moose was a rough-looking two-story building about twenty miles downriver from Callup. It had a big, double-decker porch on the front and looked like something straight out of the 1880s, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate. That’s when it was first built.
Originally it’d overlooked the river. The north fork had jumped its banks a while back, though, and now the building was half a mile away. Joe turned off the truck and looked in the rearview mirror, a shocked expression coming over his face. Then he made a disgusted, choking noise.
“Oh my God. Are they naked back there?” I asked, my voice a horrified whisper.
Joe burst out laughing and shook his head with a wink.
“Naw, just messin’ with you,” he said. “It’s all good. Let’s go inside and have some fun.”
An hour later I had to give Joe credit, because he knew how to show a girl a good time. First up, he’d introduced me to Teresa Thompson, declaring, “This is Blake’s friend. She’s scared because she’s a little drunk, and doesn’t want you to think she’ll be a shitty employee because of it.”
I’d started stammering, wondering what the hell I’d ever done to piss him off. Teresa just smiled and told me to sober up before I showed for work the next day and we’d be fine. I floundered some more, talking about school and wanting to do a good job. She told the bartender to give me drinks on the house, saying, “Welcome her to the Moose family right, Connor.”
Now I found myself dancing with Danielle in the center of a small dance floor while a local band played classics, wondering why the hell I’d been so dead set against bars. Were there a bunch of rough, tough guys in here? Definitely. But I had Blake and Joe watching my back, and while they weren’t quite as scary as Puck, they were more than enough to ward off any unwelcome attention.
Not that I got a lot.
Even dressed in my best, I was nothing compared to Danielle. Don’t get me wrong—I know I’m a pretty girl. But she has something going for her that I couldn’t beat. Boobs, specifically. Her plentiful cleavage was well and truly on display. Even wearing my lowest-cut V-neck T-shirt, I had nothing but mosquito bites on her.
Usually I liked that—I was all about keeping a low profile. Tonight I was feeling a little needy, though . . . Fortunately Joe came up behind me, sliding his hands around my waist and down to my hips. I felt damned good about myself after that, because there were lots of women scoping him out. He still only looked at me.
The band started playing some slow, soulful song that Regina loved—“The House of the Rising Sun.” I swayed back into him, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against his shoulder. The room swirled around me, but I didn’t care because his arms were strong and I felt safe.
That’s when it struck me.
I was in the middle of a bar. Drunk. A big, powerful man was holding me close to his body and for the first time in my life I didn’t feel scared. Except that wasn’t entirely true, because when Puck Redhouse had held me like this I hadn’t felt scared, either. I still remembered sitting in front of him out by the bonfire, realizing that so long as he had me, no other man could claim me for the night. I didn’t mind that later on I’d be getting naked with him.
Of course, that was before he’d n
early destroyed me by saying I was a bad lay. Then he’d saved my recently abused ass, so I guess after that we were even? Either way, in Joe’s arms I felt better than I’d felt in a long time so it was a good night.
Maybe losing my job wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
I opened my eyes to find Puck himself staring at me from across the room, eyes burning like coals. I shivered, going liquid instantly. God, seeing him did it every time. What was wrong with me? Puck wasn’t even handsome—not like Joe. He was too imperfect, with a ragged scar that cut across his face and a nose that had obviously been broken more than once. Everything about him was rough, almost brutal, and while I knew he wasn’t that much older than me, there were ten lifetimes reflected in his gaze.
Puck was taller than Joe, although he wasn’t quite as bulky. That didn’t mean he was small, just that he didn’t make his living hauling ore in a mine. Joe’s skin was darkened slightly by the ground-in dust and dirt of the deep earth, while Puck’s was deeply bronzed from the sun and the wind, and maybe a hint of some ancestry that wasn’t on the white side.
I felt my nipples tighten as he stared me down, drinking deeply from his brown beer bottle. What did he think of me cradled in Joe’s arms, leaning back against another man almost dreamily? I couldn’t quite read Puck’s expression. It wasn’t friendly. Nope, not even a little. For a second I almost wondered if he’d challenge Joe. I shook my head, wondering where that particular thought had come from.
When I blinked he was gone and I wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing.
“Hey, bitch,” Danielle said, breaking the spell. “You ready for a bathroom break? I gotta pee like a Russian racehorse. Come with me or I’ll get all sad and lonely and then I’ll have to cry by myself in the ladies’ room . . . and you know what that does to my mascara. We can’t go there.”
“You’re drunk off your ass,” I told her, wondering how Russian racehorses peed.
“And?”
Hard to argue with that.
—
When I finished washing my hands, Danielle had disappeared, faithless slut. I took a few minutes to primp myself back to respectability, then pushed through the door into the darkened hallway.
Puck stood there, eyes all dark fire and stone.
Shit.
Not a happy look. Not happy at all. I took a split second to consider my situation, then decided to make a run for it. Just as fast, Puck stepped forward into my space, blocking the way. What does he want? Best to just play it through, my fuzzy brain decided.
“Hey,” I said.
He didn’t respond, but his eyes trailed down me slowly, taking in every inch of my body. They lingered on my breasts, and I shuddered, remembering the night that he’d done more than just look. Why was he back here? There was absolutely no possible reason for him to be here that ended well for me. None.
Finally he spoke.
“Having a good time?”
I nodded quickly, wondering if I could avoid talking to him entirely. Hell, I wasn’t sure I could make a noise if my life depended on it. Couldn’t move, either, although my inner ancestral monkey screamed that I should start running for the hills and never stop until I was safely hidden deep inside a cave or something.
“You and that guy a thing?”
I shook my head automatically, then cursed myself because I should’ve said yes. Should’ve told him we were together and very happy, and that I planned to marry Joe in a big puffy pastry of a dress in front of five hundred of our closest friends without inviting him. Puck licked his lips, a mixture of frustration and anticipation written across his face.
“You dance like that with a lot of men?”
I shook my head quickly. His eyes grew hot, smothering me, and I had the feeling that we were an instant away from something I couldn’t handle. Puck stepped forward. I shifted back, bumping into the wall. His body wasn’t touching mine, but I felt him all the same, a pressure washing up against me and pinning me until I couldn’t breathe.
“You could dance with me.”
I nearly stroked out, eyes darting to either side. Hadn’t Joe and Blake missed me by now? Why wasn’t anyone saving me? Puck leaned closer until his nose all but touched my cheek, and inhaled, scenting me. I clenched between my legs and then gasped, because even that tiny movement was enough to make it so much worse.
Holy shit, I wanted this man.
“I’m going to start working here tomorrow,” I managed to whisper. “I got fired from the Breakfast Table, remember?”
“Busy, aren’t we?” he whispered, reaching up to catch a chunk of my hair, wrapping it around his hand. “Saw you on the roof earlier. Thought you weren’t that kind of girl.”
I tried to breathe.
“What kind of girl?”
“My kind.”
Holy shit. He was too close, way too in my face and I could smell him all around me, a faint mixture of alcohol, sweat, and the hint of exhaust from his bike. It shouldn’t have worked for me but it did. He’d smelled like that five years ago, too, and my traitorous bitch of a body recognized him. Recognized him and wanted him.
Closing my eyes, I tried to think.
“I’m just me,” I told him, swallowing. His hand rose, cradling my throat for a second, fingers stroking my jaw. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and my voice broke when I continued. “I don’t know what that means, but tonight I’m just trying to have some fun with my friends. Please don’t ruin it.”
He flinched and pulled back.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know that.”
“Had no fucking clue you were that young, or that you didn’t want to be there.”
“I know that, too.”
Puck looked away, the strained guilt on his face almost more than I could stand. I had to do something, even though I didn’t feel strong enough. Reaching up, I cradled the side of his face with my hand, turning it toward me so I could meet his eyes. Then I spoke, putting everything I had into the words, willing him to believe me.
“Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, Puck. Things were fucked up and wrong, but you saved my life. Do you have any idea where I’d be right now if you hadn’t come to that party?”
“Becca, you okay?” Joe asked, his voice cutting through the tension. Puck stepped back, although he still kept himself between me and the other man, his stance weirdly protective like always.
So sexy . . .
“I’m fine. Puck is an old friend. We were just talking.”
“Danielle and Blake want to go swim down at the river,” Joe said slowly, taking in our body language. “Was thinking we’d head out. Unless you want to stay?”
Yeah, I wanted to stay. I wanted to drop to my knees, suck Puck off in front of everyone, and then ride away into the night on his bike. I’d do whatever twisted, fucked-up things he asked me, too, because I was my mother’s daughter.
Slut . . .
“No. I want to go with you, Joe.”
Puck stiffened, but he stepped to the side, letting me pass as I walked over to Joe. He tugged me into his side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Puck didn’t move as he and Blake’s friend stared each other down, wordlessly sharing an entire conversation I couldn’t begin to follow.
“Let’s go,” I said, turning into Joe and spreading a hand on his chest. He nodded, and we walked out of the bar.
—
Later that night I lay back on an old blanket under the stars. We’d settled on the river bar just past the bridge, and a small campfire glowed not far away. Danielle and Blake were off in the bushes laughing and wrestling around, which should’ve been awkward but wasn’t somehow.
Joe was great. Super. Exactly the kind of man I needed.
We’d made out for a while, and while he didn’t gross me out, he didn’t do much for me, either. But when I asked him to stop, he agreed easily enough. Not that he wasn’t interested—I’d felt enough action down below to know he was definitely into m
e—but I liked the way he respected my boundaries.
“It’s gorgeous out here,” I murmured, one of the greatest understatements of the century. The stars were a million jewels painted across the sky and the burble of the shallow river over the rocks could’ve soothed Charles Manson, it was so ridiculously peaceful.
“I love this place,” Joe said. “Been coming out here since I was a kid.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-two. Born just a couple miles down the valley. I know a lot of people can’t wait to get out of here, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. What about you?”
God, I hated that question.
“I’m from California,” I said slowly. “Moved up here about five years ago.”
“We didn’t go to high school together,” he said. “I would’ve remembered. You’re kind of a mystery girl, aren’t you?”
I shrugged, not liking the idea of being “mysterious.” I wanted to be normal. Boring. Under the radar . . .
“Not really. Family life wasn’t so good down south, so when I got the chance to leave, I took it. Regina and Earl Murray took me in, helped me get on my feet. Now I wait tables and go to beauty school.”
“Got a feeling that’s not the whole story, but I don’t want to push,” he said. “I had fun tonight. You think you’d be interested in seeing each other again?”
I considered the question.
“Yeah, I might be interested,” I said finally, wondering why I didn’t get the same thrill from Joe that I got from Puck. Mom always went for the dangerous ones, too, and guess who paid the price? Fuck that. I needed to pull my head out of my ass and appreciate the man I was with. “I want to take things nice and slow, though. If that’s a problem, we should probably let it go . . .”
He kissed the top of my head.
“Not a problem,” he said. “Not a problem at all. But I’ve got a question for you.”
“What’s that?” I asked, my stomach sinking. Please don’t let him ask about Puck . . .
