“Oh, yeah.” Dan’s eyes widened. “Janine and Hunter were friends.”
“Hunter… Do you know her last name?” Joe’s stomach churned as he held his breath waiting for Dan’s answer.
“Sure. It’s Giordano. Why?”
Joe crumpled the stained napkin within his tightening fist. He hid his movement under the table. He couldn’t allow Dan to read his sudden anger.
“Only curious,” he muttered after a pause. He’d just concocted a reasonable excuse for his odd behavior. “One of my buds in Afghanistan talked about a distant cousin moving to St. Cloud. Her name is Hunter.” Joe shrugged. “The last name is different.”
Nice move, a little truth buried within a big lie.
“That would have been one hell of a coincidence.” Dan waved at Kelly. She held up one finger in a silent question, and Dan turned to him. “How’s your beer?”
Joe eyed his half-full mug. “Sure, I’ll down this one. Hate to waste Kelly’s trip.”
Dan answered by holding up two fingers. Kelly nodded. “And what else did your bud say?”
“Nothing much.” Joe shrugged. “I told my friend that St. Cloud is a small community, but not that small.”
“True.” Dan’s interest returned to his chili, and Joe breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted the Hunter topic shelved until he returned home and double-checked his facts.
A few minutes passed in silence. When the next round arrived, Dan grabbed his icy mug with both hands, and as he raised it to his lips, he glanced at Joe. “So…where is your buddy these days?”
Shit.
Joe pressed his lips. “Back home. Resting.”
CHAPTER TWO
“THERE’S AN INTRIGUING eye patch out there,” Kelly murmured as she whisked inside the small space that served as Pete’s Place’s multipurpose changing, storage, and unisex restroom.
“Huh? You’re not making any sense.” Intent on her work, Hunter kept her eyes glued to the oval mirror. She twisted her long auburn tresses through a striped scrunchie—the only dash of color in her black outfit— then released the fluffy band, and a half bun, half ponytail formed at the back of her head. Checking her do, she shook her head side to side, testing the tightness of the band.
“Stop preening. You look fabulous. Now, can I have some room?” Kelly wiggled around Hunter, trying to reach the shelves holding cleaning products.
“Geez…all right.” Hunter moved between the toilet bowl and the wall, making room for Kelly to grab the bottle of glass cleaner and a roll of paper towels.
With her hands full, Kelly stepped back. She spoke to Hunter through the mirror and winked. “Eye patch and owner came in about thirty minutes ago. He’s sitting in one of them booths.” She tilted her head in the direction of the bar area. “Honey, if I were ten years younger and single, I’d be on that man like white on rice.”
“And leave Pete, you crazy loon? What’re you saying?” Chuckling, Hunter pressed her hand against the wall to maintain her balance as she removed her platform shoes and slipped into her working flats. She picked up her fancy, stratospherically high pumps—the kind few women could tolerate longer than a couple of hours—and stored them inside her tiny designated cubicle next to her purse.
Kelly tilted the bottle side to side. “You can call me crazy after you take a real good look at Dan’s friend.”
“Dan?”
“You know Dan Barton. He’s a fixture in our bar.”
Hunter pouted. “Oh, him… I’m not his favorite person.”
Smiling, Kelly settled her back against the doorframe. “Don’t you pay Dan Barton any attention. He’s a small-minded dude This is the eye patch’s first visit to our humble bar. And, honey, let me tell ya… He is freaking hot.”
Snickering under her breath, Hunter turned to Kelly. “And, pray tell… Does your freaking-hot eye patch have a name?”
Kelly bristled. “Funny girl, ain’t ya? Well, I’m not here to entertain you. I’ve got better things to do.” She paused, peered at Hunter, then, inching forward, touched her cheek. “Did you have another bad night?”
“After the usual guilt trip, I kept waking up. Lots of tossing and turning.”
“Judging by the shadows…” Kelly removed her fingers. “Mommy Dearest at it again?”
Hunter jerked to face the mirror. “Is it that obvious?” Stretching over the washbasin, she dabbed the skin under her eyes. “I used concealer. Should I put on more? Look at all those crow’s feet. Man, I’m getting old.”
“Hell, yeah. Pete has a walker with your name on it behind the bar.” Kelly snickered. “And no, it’s not obvious. Speaking of loons, you’re what, thirty, thirty-one? And don’t look a minute over twenty-five. I don’t understand your obsession with age.”
“To be accurate, it’s thirty-two.” Hunter scowled. “Thirty-three is nipping at my heels. And for your information, good tippers are not attracted to wrinkles.” She pulled her lower eyelid and formed an O with her mouth, checking for vertical lines on her upper lip. “I need every cent I can get my hands on. Mamá’s complaints have tripled. What I send her doesn’t cover food, clothing, utilities.” She threw her palms up. “Evidently, nothing at all. She’s stuck on the same demand, give me more, more, more.”
“It strikes me that Mamá Giordano needs to take a trip down south. See your reality. Understand how you manage on a few dimes so you can send her the rest.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve argued, begged, and talked until I ran out of breath. She’s a rock…worse, a boulder. Not much I can do. She knows I need her help, and she plays me like a violin.”
“Make your move, today, tomorrow.” Kelly clasped her shoulder. “I don’t want to hear that money is holding you back. Not when you can count on us, Pete and me. We’ve offered before, and we’re dead serious.”
Hunter placed her palm over Kelly’s hand. “You guys are the best, but I’m not ready yet.”
“Time’s a mean enemy, Hunter. Distance doesn’t help either. I’ll speak plainly, one friend to another. You’ve postponed Kevin’s move far too long. We don’t know what kind of venom Mamá Giordano spews every day. Soon your explanations for the delay will be meaningless. Empty excuses floating in the wind.” Kelly slipped her hand out of Hunter’s grasp and flicked her fingers in the air, emphasizing her words. “You don’t want to be misunderstood, or seem cold and uncaring.”
“That’s the general consensus already,” Hunter scoffed. “Nothing I can do to change it.”
“Idiotic bullcrap,” Kelly snapped. “Although, sometimes I wish you’d open up a little, darlin’. With few exceptions, you keep everyone at arm’s length.”
“No, ma’am.” Frowning, Hunter turned. “Those people don’t give a shit about me, and I am not spilling the details of my life for all the world to hear and criticize. I’m blamed for anything that goes wrong. Like Janine and Steve. The guy was a cheating creep, but…oh no… I did it.” She slapped her chest. “I seduced him.”
“I know, sweetie. Nevertheless, your mysterious silence is a temptation. The curious and gossipers can’t resist. They’re attracted like bees to honey. And don’t change the subject, missy.”
“I’m not.” Shaking her head, Hunter turned to the mirror again. As she spoke, she patted and tested the firmness of the skin around her neck. “My calendar is marked with a big red circle, and I’ve purchased the tickets, nonrefundable to boot. The date is set. Wednesday, August first. Five months from now, give or take a few days. Before the start of the fall semester.”
“Excellent. Stay on target. Not a day later. Should you decide to move up the date, I’ll be here to lend a hand.” Kelly’s expression changed from serious to naughty. Her smile lifted on one side. “Meanwhile, stop trying to fix what don’t need fixin’. Your face is fine. Why don’t you take a peek at drop-dead-gorgeous Mr. Joe Reid? That’s the man’s name.”
“Ah-ha. After you, ma’am.” Hunter bent in a mocking bow.
Shaking her head, a muttering Kelly
exited the room. Hunter fell in step behind her. She made it to the corner of the bar and the hallway and went no farther. Standing partially hidden, she craned her neck sideways and got a full view of the room. She spotted the two men sitting in a booth near the door. Dan, she knew. She didn’t bother to check him out. But she had to wait a moment, as the stranger’s attention was on his food.
Then he looked up…
Her breath rushed through her lips as she admired his high cheekbones and strong jaw—the rugged face of a man, not pretty, not boyish, and certainly not soft. Sharp described him. Ex-military, that was a given. He’d been in combat. He’d seen what couldn’t be erased or forgotten. The black patch covering his right eye was tangible proof of battle and the ravages of war. She had a sudden vision of veterans who’d returned without body parts. Considering their extreme wounds, this Joe—she couldn’t recall his last name—had come out fairly unscathed.
Really? That’s one hell of an ignorant assumption to make.
Angry at her own callous conclusion, Hunter shook her head. She, of all people, the object of mean-spirited gossip and uninformed hearsay, should know better. She could be a little more generous with her assessments.
What do you know about this man? Have you seen him stand and walk around…or without clothes on, for that matter?
Not everyone displayed their scars out in the open. Some were carefully concealed, hidden to all, even their loved ones. Right? You know this.
Inhaling a lungful of air, Hunter tore her attention from the spellbinding man, only to meet up with Kelly’s cool blue regard from the far end of the bar. Feeling guilty, as if her friend could read all her shameful thoughts, Hunter shrugged, offering an apologetic grin.
Breaking eye contact with Kelly, Hunter turned to Pete, who was drying mugs with a soft white cloth. “How’re you doing, Pete?” Her question was cursory, as all her interest remained riveted on the man in the booth. Pete nodded in response. She was free to look again.
“Would you like to take over, wait on them?” Kelly murmured next to her.
Hunter jerked. “Damn it, Kelly. I hate when you sneak up on me.”
“I did not.” Thrusting out a hip, Kelly pressed her fist on it. “I walked here, nice ’n slow like. If your attention hadn’t been so…captivated, you would have seen me. I ain’t a small girl, ya know?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffed, averting her face from Kelly’s probing eyes. Hunter’s cheeks flamed.
“Deny it all you want. You were taken, darlin’. Lost in Joe Reid’s face.” Kelly chuckled. “Since both dudes are finished with their meals, I thought you’d like to pick up their plates. Get a closer look. No? Am I wrong?”
The steam in Hunter’s cheeks spread to the rest of her face and neck. Even her earlobes and the inside of her ears were singed with heat. Kelly had hit the nail on the head, but Hunter refused to admit anything.
“Nuh-uh. That Joe spells complications, loads of complications. I have enough with Aaron. He keeps me quite busy, thank you.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “Aaron? Aaron Miller? You can’t be serious. Poor guy has passable looks and is nice and all, but honey, Aaron’s a neurotic marshmallow. Joe, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say he appears grounded, settled. A man, not a boy.” Kelly grabbed the pickup tray from the bar’s countertop and tilted it sideways, allowing the liquid on top to dribble out. “Perhaps it’s what you need.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Unlike the guys you allow in your life, he ain’t gonna drool, fall on his knees, or become a doormat after your first pass. He’ll be a challenge, I’m sure.”
“There it is. You’ve validated my argument. Who needs the headache?” Hunter tapped her fingernails on the counter. “I have enough male ego to deal with.”
“Suit yourself.” Kelly lined the tray with a folded cloth napkin and left.
As Kelly approached the booth, Hunter followed her every move. From this spot, she could study her friend’s interaction with Dan and Joe, and better still, how they responded to her. Hunter didn’t need to be up close or get involved. She practiced people watching from a distance. Folks revealed their true nature best when they didn’t know they were being observed.
She could only see the front half of Dan’s profile. The way Kelly stood, she blocked the rest. That was fine; she’d seen enough of him. They had clashed bitterly in the past. Dan had his opinion of her, and nothing would change it. She shifted over to Joe as he lifted his plate for Kelly, spoke to her, and smiled. His face lit up. The intense demeanor and hard planes of his face softened, revealing a nuanced personality.
Interesting.
Kelly picked up Dan’s and Joe’s bowls and placed them on her tray. Instead of returning to the kitchen to unload, she continued her conversation with both men. Dan used his hands to speak, making large circles and gestures, Kelly laughed, and Joe nodded a few times. Hunter didn’t miss a beat. She couldn’t look away from the fascinating eye patch. The thing moved and shifted on Joe’s face as part of the whole and not a separate piece. She had the strangest notion then. Did Joe use the patch as a prop of sorts, a mask to cover the obvious wound, but also to deflect close scrutiny? It wouldn’t surprise her in the least. Outward trappings could easily distract superficial and simple minds.
Who are you, Joe Reid?
Whatever Kelly said next had to be significant, because in response to her words, Joe shook his head and glanced down at his arms folded on the table. A moment later, he raised his head. A deep, nearly palpable sadness had shadowed his rugged expression—if Hunter reached out, she could touch his grief. It was etched in the handsome lines of his face and the downward tilt of his sensuous mouth.
The pang in Hunter’s chest was surprising, sudden, and scarier than hell. Her knees wobbled a little, and she grasped the countertop with shaky fingers to steady herself.
This reaction wouldn’t do. Hunter turned her back to the group, seeking the distraction of Pete’s nonstop activity behind the bar.
On his next pass, he stopped. “Something bothering you? Can I get you anything, doll?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Waiting for customers to arrive. That’s all.” She shrugged.
“Any minute now.” Pete winked and resumed his shuffling around.
Perfect. The quick exchange worked.
Broke her away from the troubling fixation.
Set her back on track. Reminded her.
Her sanity hinged on maintaining emotional separation. Hunter didn’t hold back with men. She was brutal in her honesty. Her countless warnings went straight to the point: “I can’t give you what you want… Don’t get attached to me… Keep your distance…”
But her words had the opposite effect. Her admirers only heard an irresistible challenge and a female’s bravado. The harder she pushed males away, the closer they wanted to be. Not one guy believed she could be so…so detached, so uninterested, so unlike a woman. And when the affair reached its promised conclusion, the disappointed dude and his buddies—in the style of Dan Barton—got upset and called her names. Go figure.
Aaron came to mind. Their fling had been good. In fact, it had lasted longer than most, as Aaron, a brash, self-centered, and somewhat immature twenty-five-year-old, had—until recently—managed the affair with a casual, totally noncommittal attitude. However, ideal situations don’t last forever. Lately, the Aaron affair had grown heavy, borderline sour, as he’d become too clingy, too serious for her taste. Plus, thanks to his friends’ influence, he’d taken to alcohol. Despite the chorus of laughter he elicited from his sidekicks, he was a mean drunk.
She was patting her cheek with her fingertips as strategies occupied her mind— what to say and the best way to cut him loose—when the front door swung open and Aaron’s loud, irritating voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Sweet cheeks! Hunter…babykins.”
Irritated, Hunter cringed. Pete sent her a pitying glance. As she turne
d one inch at a time, her eyes met Joe’s intent gaze, and she froze.
Evidently, she was one of those superficial simple minds Joe’s eye patch had distracted. Against the backdrop of his tanned skin, his healthy, light-blue iris gleamed. An unsettling sensation hit her stomach, a sense of loss…
Pity, I wish I’d met you before the injury.
Joe nodded, once.
Her lips quivered.
Do you know what I’m thinking?
A giant hand clasped her chin and squeezed. “What’cha doing, babe?” Aaron’s meaty paw twisted her face.
“Stop that.” She yanked her head free. “I’m not a rubber doll.”
Aaron pouted. The expression didn’t suit him. “But, sweet cheeks, I wanted my kiss, and you were looking… Don’t know, somewhere.”
A whiff of alcohol breath hit her nose. Stretching her neck, Hunter pulled farther back. “Don’t you listen? I hate that name.” She cast a swift glance toward Joe. Evidently, she no longer held his interest, as he’d rejoined the conversation with Kelly and Dan.
“It’s a sign of affection, sweets.” Aaron wobbled, and his hand fell on her shoulder. Pursing his lips, he made kissing sounds loud enough for the entire bar to hear.
Feeling the spotlight on her, Hunter cringed. “Ugh…that’s worse.”
She didn’t give him time to think or react to her rejection. Rolling her eyes, she slipped under his arm and walked quickly away, creating a safe distance from Aaron and his glassy-eyed inebriation.
Later, she’d find the patience to manage and control him. Right now, she couldn’t.
“’S’up, dog.” Kelly intervened as she moved behind the countertop. She deposited the bowls from her tray into the large plastic bin reserved for dirty dishes and flatware. “Hmm…lost in the sauce, I see.”
“My love… Kelly.”
Surprised, Hunter covered her mouth. She’d expected a snarky remark or an angry expletive from Aaron, not this sweet tone. In this condition, he didn’t do well with criticism. She suppressed a chuckle. Aaron—a couple of inches shorter than Kelly—had wrapped himself around her curvy body. When he pressed his cheek against her shoulder, his mouth had come dangerously close to the top of her breast.
Deception Page 3
