Ari had run off the stage that day to the soundtrack of his jeering laughter. Was he about to laugh at her now? Was he about to point and jeer once again?
She wanted to run, but she stood there frozen. Just like that fateful day at the Christmas gala all those years ago. And then the boy from her nightmares turned and looked at her.
The sneer fell from his face. His gaze softened. His mouth went slack. He said the two words Ari had longed to hear for years.
"I'm sorry."
Too bad it wasn't enough. Because she still stood there, speechless in front of Eric Prince. The boy who'd stolen her voice away.
Chapter Three
It was his stomach that drove Prince into the bar and grill just off the marina. That and the thought of another meal from a can. He'd spent much of his youth eating cafeteria food at the private military school his father had enrolled him in the day after his mother’s funeral. Then he'd spent the next years of his life eating the gruel in Basic Training and then on base.
As he made his way into town for his shopping trip, the smell of grease and salt fairly lifted him up by the nostrils and led him through the doors of Carol on the Bay Karaoke Bar. Luckily, it wasn't too crowded inside. Even luckier was that a whole section of the place looked entirely unoccupied.
A few customers sat on the right side of the establishment. Likely locals as it was an early Thursday afternoon. The town called to tourists during the warmer months, but here it was almost Christmas and the middle of a workday.
However, there was a large group gathered around the front at the stage. Perhaps these were college students out for a laugh. He hoped they weren’t serious with these performances. Not that he could hear their voices all that well. What he did hear was off-key.
Prince reached to his right ear and turned his hearing aid down. He could still hear the racket in his left ear, though it sounded like it was coming from farther away. That was fine with him. Prince stole into the unoccupied left side of the restaurant.
He didn't remember this place being here when he lived here. But then again, he didn't remember a lot about this place. As part of his father's military career, his family had moved so often when he was younger.
He’d been born here in Indigo Bay. Then hopped around bases in the states and abroad until he was fifteen. This had been the last place where his family had owned property. The house had been rented out, and Prince had told the occupants to stay as long as they wanted. The rent was more than enough for him to live off of. That and his disability checks. He could live out the rest of his days quietly. Especially if he kept turning down his hearing aid or simply didn't wear it.
Prince was a music lover. But it didn't appear that the people in front of the stage were. Not if they thought that off-key rendition of the Titanic movie classic wasn't heading towards an iceberg.
Looking over at the right side of the restaurant, it would appear that the other patrons agreed. They turned their backs on the singer and continued their conversations. With his hearing aid off, Prince could hardly hear any of it. Which was bliss.
It was times like these he felt he had an advantage on those who weren't hearing impaired. He could hear a hum of noise on his own, but it was hard to make out any single words. Especially over the constant ringing ever-present in his ears.
Prince closed his eyes and tried to get lost in the hum that typically haunted him. His world wasn't truly silent. But he could let his attention drift with no one watching him.
Only, it felt like someone was watching him. He opened his eyes and saw a pair of shapely legs standing near him. It had been a long time since he'd checked a woman out. Why would he bother flirting if he wasn't guaranteed to hear her response to his witty lines? Or worse, mistake what she said.
His gaze traveled up those legs to find softly rounded hips hidden beneath a mini skirt. Her coral pink shirt had the logo of the restaurant on her chest. His eyes moved slowly as they traversed her clavicles. That part of a woman had always been his favorite, especially when kissing. He liked playing in the rises and dips of the flesh and bone there.
Her neck was long, like a swan’s. Fire red hair brushed her shoulders. That combination shouldn’t go; red hair and a pink shirt. But she stood there looking stunning in the color.
There were freckles on her neck and cheeks. The sprinkle of dots rested above a full mouth, that was parted. Were her lips moving? Had he missed what she’d said?
Prince looked up into her eyes. Though he was sitting down and inside four walls, he felt he’d gotten lost. Her eyes were the blue of the ocean. He could sail on those waves in and out of days, over weeks, months, and years. If she'd let him.
The way her gaze was pinched as she looked down at him, he suspected that a witty remark was not going to grant him permission to come aboard. Likely because she'd already said something to him and he hadn't responded.
She held a pen and pad in her hand. He glanced again at her shirt and realized she was a waitress. Then he realized he was staring at her chest and glanced away.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, barely hearing his own voice.
The menu was on the table. He grabbed for it and pulled it forward, though he didn’t look at it. He turned his body so that she wouldn’t see him reach for the device in his ear and turn it back up.
Chapter Four
He didn't remember her.
Ari stood there frozen, staring down at the man who had wreaked so much havoc on her life. Eric Prince, Prince as everyone called him because during the times he was here, he walked around like he owned the town. But also because it was his last name.
Prince was even more handsome as a grown man than when he was a teen. He'd lost the lankiness of youth and filled out. Considerably.
His shoulders were so broad they took up most of the booth. She could see the definition of muscle under the thick fabric of his shirt. He'd had the beauty of a gazelle when he was young. Now he looked like a bear. Complete with the shaggy, overgrown hair topping his head, and the scruffy facial hair covering his chin and upper lip.
And he didn't remember her.
In fact, it looked like he’d found her wanting. Those green eyes had taken her in—taken all of her in. From her shoes to her head. And when he'd reached her eyes, he'd grimaced.
Even all these years later, she found he looked at her as though she was lacking, that she was a joke, that she wasn’t good enough. At least this time there wasn't a group of his cronies around to witness his derision. Most of the kids Prince had run with when he was younger were gone. Except one who still hung around even though not many in town enjoyed her company.
But none of that mattered. Because Prince did not remember her.
"I'll take a burger and fries," he said. He scratched at his ear as he did so.
Ari balled her fingers into a fist. Not to get violent. Unlike Prince, she didn't have a mean bone in her body. She pumped blood and feeling back into her hand so that she could write his order down. But she couldn't remember how to spell the word burger. Her pencil tip broke when she tried to write fries. Because here she stood taking an order from Prince, the villain in her life’s story, the man who’d locked her in a tower of silence and left her to wallow in a wordless world, and he didn't have the decency to remember who she was.
For the first time in years, Ari wanted to use her voice. She wanted to raise it loud. She wanted to shout at him. But she didn't. She couldn't.
Prince looked up at her then. Were his green eyes darker than she remembered? When she’d gazed after him as a preteen, she’d remembered thinking his eyes were the bright green of seafoam washed ashore. Now they appeared to her the dark color of seaweed that’s hard to detect out in the water until it ensnares a swimmer’s foot and threatens to bring them under.
His dark gaze held onto her. There was a haunted look at the edges of his eyes. There was a hint of fear there that she knew well. An anxiety that at any moment someone could lash out and hurt her. Not with
a physical strike, but with an uttered word.
But that was impossible. This was Eric Prince. He didn’t care what anyone said or thought about him. She’d watched him thumb his nose at authority as a young girl. He hadn’t even come to apologize to her after The Incident, even when the mayor had insisted on it. And by the next week, he was gone. Sent away off to military school. He’d never returned, not for holidays or visits with his parents.
Yet here he was, sitting in her family’s bar, with a hint of vulnerability on his face. If Ari was a woman who did speak, she’d be at a loss for words.
From across the room, the current singer was getting a little zealous with the microphone. High-pitched feedback protested her machinations. The sound screeched, sending a treble shrill through the speakers.
Ari winced at the sound, raising a hand to her ears. But her hand never reached her face. Before she knew it, her back was flung against the wall behind the booth. Two hundred and twenty pounds of virile male was pressed against her.
Prince had her against a wall. His arms covered her head. His chest pressed into hers. His legs boxed her in, cutting off any and all means of escape. She was trapped against the wall with her greatest enemy.
So why did she feel safe for the first time in years?
Prince raised his head, eyes darting around the bar. Gone was the lost look he'd had just a moment ago. In its place was a wild gaze that frantically searched the room as though there was danger.
No one else noticed them. The group at the stage was too busy catcalling and whooping for the awful singer at the mic. The usual patrons had already shaken off the glaring electronic feedback and were resuming their meals.
A thought hit Ari at that moment. Had Prince been trying to protect her? Was that why he was using his body to protect hers? Because he thought there was a clear and present danger?
There weren’t any dangers here in Indigo Bay. Not unless she counted the newspaper bandit who routinely stole the coupons from Mr. Garcetti’s Sunday paper. Or the parking fairy who went around and fed low street meters. Surprisingly, that was indeed a crime. But one that would never be prosecuted.
What would possess Prince to think they were in danger of anything except a headache from the awful singing? For that, he could’ve offered her an aspirin, not used his body to protect her; the girl whose life he’d ruined and forgotten about.
From the cradle of his arms, Ari watched as Prince’s eyes zeroed in on the sound system. She watched as realization dawned that it was a speaker that had launched an attack, not a person. The vulnerability came back in force. Heat spread from his eyes, darkening them from a light green to a darker one. The vulnerability pinched the corners of his eyes, making a nest of crows there. It spread to his nose, which wrinkled as though it smelled something foul. And finally, the vulnerability landed on his mouth, where his lips pinched together.
Prince shut his eyes, letting out a gust of air. It tasted bitter when it hit Ari’s tongue. She glanced up at his unguarded face, and that's when she saw it.
In his ear, there was a plastic device. A node that fit snuggly into the hollow with a piece wrapped around the outer cone of his ear. A hearing aid.
Of its own accord, Ari's hand rose to his face. Her fingertips brushed his cheek, feeling the bristles there. They were soft, not hard and prickly like she imagined.
Prince’s eyes opened. Slowly, the pools of dark green lightened as he gazed down at her. He breathed in slowly as he searched her face. Still no recognition of who she was dawned there, but she saw something else break in the light of his pupils; interest.
Ari’s fingers kept their upward trail. Her thumb brushed up his jawline, feeling the strong set to the bones there. When her index finger touched the tip of his ear, Prince jerked back and out of her reach. His needy gaze shuttered, like cold metal clanging down. The need iced over into anger.
He let her go, so quickly that Ari stumbled. He didn’t reach out to catch her, and so she braced herself using the wall at her back. Without another word, Prince turned on his heel and stormed out of the bar.
Chapter Five
The boat rocked as Prince stormed onto it. Houseboat living wasn't for everyone, especially those that were prone to seasickness. Even though the structure was buoyed, the residents would still feel the motion beneath their feet.
Right now, Prince felt like his entire person was off-kilter; his body, his mind, and his dark soul. The world outside was steady. Even the boat with its subtle rocking was solid ground to the turmoil raging inside. The only thing off balance was him.
What had he been thinking about going into that place and taking a seat? If he was so hungry, he could've ordered at the bar and left. What had possessed him to sit down in a booth and then...
He raked his fingers through his hair. When he got to the ends, he tugged, hoping that would bring about his good sense. The problem was he had none left.
The walls of the boat felt like they were closing in on him. The ring of the bells in his ears grew louder. He was about to have another episode, but at least he would be alone when the anxiety grabbed hold of him.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder came in many forms. The cruel mistress had many tentacles wrapped around Prince. She visited his dreams. She often stole into his waking hours. And she had stolen his hearing.
Going into the Armed Forces, Prince had known that he might be asked to pay the ultimate price for his country. He’d been willing to do that. What he hadn’t expected was the possibility of a never-ending tab after his time was up.
He might learn to manage his PTSD symptoms. But they would never go away entirely. A flare-up in private was one thing. An episode out in public was unacceptable.
Prince marched down the pier. The sun was just starting to set on the sea. The sight was beautiful; cool blue meeting warm flames and casting a purple glow.
He saw none of it. All he could see were her eyes; a blue so deep he’d felt he was floating. His attention had been captivated by the flames of her red hair. The strands had been bright enough to burn. He’d felt warmed through just standing near her.
When her soft fingers had touched his skin, he’d thought he might be hallucinating. By then, he’d come to realize that there was no danger. There had been no bomb, only the feedback from the microphone caused by the awful singing on stage.
For a second, he’d wondered if that had been part of the dream. Because what other reason would this fiery angel be in his arms. And then she’d reached for the shameful device in his ear, and the spell had been broken. Reality had come crashing down around him. Luckily, no one else in the bar had seen. Only her. Too bad he harbored a desire in his heart to see her again.
That wouldn’t happen. He doubted he would ever show his face in daylight again, definitely not at Carol on the Bay. Though the smell of the food still reached him from its place near the Marina.
Prince gazed down the path that would lead him back there. Perhaps he should go back? Perhaps he should apologize for his behavior? That’s what a normal person would do.
Movement caught his gaze. Prince looked over to see the dog from earlier standing in his path. The dirty beast wagged his tail. His tongue lolled out of his mouth.
A twitch in its hind legs told Prince the animal was preparing to sit. Prince shut his eyes so that he wouldn’t see the move. He didn’t need to have another episode. He didn’t need to remember the last time a dog had sat down on its haunches before a bomb went off. And so he turned his back on the dog and made his way down to the water.
Just a year ago, Prince’s life was going the way he'd wanted. He was on an upward trajectory in the military. He was in command of his own team and being considered for advancement. And then his entire world had blown up.
Prince shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that. But no sooner than those thoughts fled did the redhead come back into his mind.
That poor girl. She must be freaking out. She must be telling the entire town how Er
ic Prince has lost his mind as well as his hearing.
Something in him urged him not to be so sure.
The beautiful redhead hadn't looked at him like she was afraid. She hadn't screamed. There were many frequencies that Prince couldn't hear, but the sound of a woman in terror was not one of them.
Her fingers had brushed against his face. So gentle. He couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced such gentleness. He ached for it. So much so that his feet nearly did an about-face to take him back to the bar.
And what? Have a conversation with her? It wasn't like he couldn't hear her, especially if he turned his hearing aid on. She hadn’t spoken to him, hadn’t uttered a word. Suddenly, Prince ached to hear the sound of her voice.
A tap on his shoulder jerked him into action. He reached back, grabbing a handful of fabric. His fist was cocked, ready to throw a punch.
It wasn't an assailant that he was confronted with. The man in Prince's hold weighed less than half of him and was at least a foot shorter. Definitely not a threat.
Yet he’d immediately gone into attack mode here in the quiet, sleepy town of Indigo Bay. And Prince thought he could have a casual conversation with the pretty waitress? Yeah, right.
His latest victim's lips quaked. Not in fear. In that nervous laughter of someone who was uncertain. The man looked vaguely familiar. The woman standing just behind him was a known entity.
Prince ran his hand through his hair again. It was his cover to turn his hearing aide on.
"Once a soldier, always a soldier." Ursula Spade's voice had grown sultry in her adulthood. She was as poised and polished as she had been back in high school. Her brown skin gave off a glow in the setting sun. Her long braids snaked down her back, coiling over her shoulder as she tilted her head and regarded Prince.
Sweet Carol Page 2
