by Tess Oliver
I knew full well that I should spin right around and leave, but it had been so dramatic out there on the river and it seemed to me that an almost imperceptible chin lift from the boss was not enough recognition for what he’d done. “That was really brave—” His half naked body and handsome face were making it hard to sputter the words out clearly. “What you did out there on the water. I saw you dive in and—” I reached behind me for the doorknob. “Anyhow, just wanted to tell you.”
A faint smile crossed his face as he turned to pull a shirt from the locker. A thin river of blood trailed across his shoulders.
“You’re hurt.” I released the doorknob and stepped closer.
“It’s fine.” He went to pull on his shirt.
“No,” I said louder than necessary. “I know there’s a first aid kit in the office. Let me at least clean it off and put some antiseptic on it.” I held up my hands. “Don’t move.” I rushed out to the office. From the front windows, I could see Finn sitting up on the gurney while the medics took his vitals. It was a relieving sight to see. I grabbed the first aid kit from the shelf on the wall and carried it back into the locker room. Jem was sitting with his long, thick legs straddling the bench.
“It’s just a scratch, Woodstock. But then, how stupid would I be to turn down first aid from an incredibly hot nurse.”
“Yes, and since there aren’t any hot nurses around, you’ll have to settle for one slightly shaken office worker.”
“If settling means having you tend to me, then consider me extremely settled.” There was no way to ignore the suggestive tone behind his words.
“Most mortal men would still be reeling from the incident outside, but here you sit, bleeding and wet, acting as if nothing happened and making suggestive remarks to a girl you hardly know.” I circled behind him, and following his model, I straddled the bench.
“Yep, I find it really hard to turn off that switch.”
I searched through the box for sterile gauze. “What switch is that?”
“I’ll leave that for you to figure out.”
“Oh. Jeez, you’re a one track train heading in a single direction, aren’t you? Now hold still.”
“Not going anywhere, darlin’.”
Normally, being called darlin’ would raise my hackles, but something about the way Jem Wolfe said darlin’ caused a little piece of me to melt. Even with Everly’s persistent warnings, I was having a hell of a time staying immune to his charm. And his physical presence wasn’t helping matters. His muscular, bare back stretched between impossibly wide shoulders. Even the way his hair curled up at the base of his neck was appealing. And the tattered scar on his jaw gave him another layer, a dimension that evoked a hardship endured, and I’d more than once had the urge to run my fingers over it.
I’d volunteered to help him. I took a deep breath to gain focus. Up close the wound was far more than a scratch. I reached into the metal box and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic to pour on the gauze. “I think you left a little more flesh out there than you realize. This passed the scratch stage several layers of skin ago.”
“Don’t even remember it happening.” He was completely relaxed. I was anything but.
He’d just come from an ice cold pond, but heat was radiating off every inch of his skin. Badly, I wanted to smooth my palms over the layers of muscle in his shoulders and arms. I pulled in a steadying breath, doused the gauze with antiseptic and pressed it over the cut. His shoulders tensed some as I wiped the medicine across the wound.
“Am I hurting you?” I asked.
His back vibrated with a low laugh. “Not exactly. But if I sit between your long legs much longer with your sweet warm breath tickling my neck, I will be hurting.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or completely disturbed by your suggestive remarks.”
His hard body shook with another silent laugh. “Well, since you haven’t hopped off this bench and stormed out of here, first aid kit in hand, I think we can skip disturbed.”
There was no way to deny that sitting this close to a half naked Jem Wolfe was stirring up just about every physical reaction possible. I needed to finish the first aid and get back to work.
I cleaned the skin around the gash. “It’s not perfect, but at least it’s free of pond residue. I can tape some gauze over it so your shirt won’t stick to it.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” He leaned down, and I watched with complete and ridiculous fascination as his arm, shoulder and back muscles contracted and stretched in the simple act of pulling on his shirt. He lowered the t-shirt slowly over the cut and swung his leg over the bench. I was still straddling it and facing his profile. It, too, was chiseled perfection.
I shook my head to snap myself out of my reverie where I seemed to be cataloguing all the man’s hard to resist qualities. Everly would not have warned me away from him if she didn’t have good reason. But I was still looking for that good reason.
He reached under the bench for his boots.
“But your feet will be wet.”
He smiled as he untied them. “I work on the pond. They are always wet.”
“Oh, right. Stupid me.” I swung my leg over the bench and returned the unused supplies to the first aid kit.
“Where are you staying, Woodstock?” The nickname should have irritated the heck out of me. But, just like darlin’, the way he said it made me hope that everything Everly had said about him was wrong.
“I’m staying with a girl I met on the road. Her name is Everly.”
He looked up from tying his boot. “Landon’s niece?”
“Yes, that’s her. She’s been really great. Even made me lunch today.”
He nodded and returned to his second boot. “Everly’s had it tough, and her uncle—well—I guess they’ve already filled your head with horrible Wolfe stories.”
“You mean like Red Riding Hood?” I said with a laugh, but his mouth was pulled in a grim line as he finished tying his boots.
I decided it was my cue to get back to the office. “Well, my Florence Nightingale impersonation is over, and now it’s back to the file disaster.”
He straightened. Bringing up Everly and her uncle had changed his mood abruptly. Just like on the road, when I’d told him I was staying in Blackthorn, his face had turned hard as stone. I stood up to walk out, but he grabbed hold of my wrist.
I looked down at him. He held me just roughly enough that I should’ve been a little concerned. But I wasn’t. Every time he touched me, a familiar sense of relief washed over me.
He stared at my hand. “Nothing about this place is as it seems. You don’t want to dig too deep.” His brown gaze lifted to my face, and suddenly, all of it, the constant lines of sorrow in his expression, the brutal scar on his otherwise remarkable face, the deep, lost tone of his voice made me want to trust him. “Whatever it is you’re looking for, Tashlyn—give it up for good.”
I swallowed back the ache in my throat and stared down at him. “You don’t understand. I lost a piece of myself. I can’t give it up.” I pulled my hand from his and walked out.
Chapter 8
Jem
It had been a long, fucking day, and I was regretting my decision to hang out at Rotten Apples. The usual backroom poker game had been cancelled, and instead of a band, the manager was setting up the stage for karaoke. About the only thing that could make the night worse was if they announced that they’d replaced all beer with their famous apple martinis.
Katy, a girl who I’d occasionally hung out with mostly because we both liked casual sex, walked in and headed straight to my table. She pulled out a chair.
“I like that sweater,” I said just before taking a drink of my beer.
“You say that about all my sweaters.”
“That’s because I like them all. Especially w
hen they are tight like this one.”
She leaned over and rested her hand high up on my thigh. “So, is it true?”
“That your hand on my leg is making my cock hard? Yep, it’s true.”
She laughed, pulled away her hand and smacked my shoulder. “God, you’re so damn predictable. No, is it true you pulled Finn Harris from the pond?”
“Yep, he fell in, and I pulled him out.” Finn had gotten off with just a bad concussion. The doctors had released him only a few hours after he was admitted. He’d been dealing with a shitty ass headache, but it wasn’t too big of a price to pay. I, on the other hand, had been suffering after Tashlyn’s first aid treatment in the locker room. And I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since.
Dane walked back from the bar with another pitcher. Katy shot him a bitchy scowl. My brother ignored it because he couldn’t have cared less. It was one of the traits I envied in him, the ability to not give a damn what anyone thought or said. I was starting to harden myself to his way of handling other people, but I wasn’t quite there yet.
Katy scooted her chair closer and leaned against me so that her tits were pressed solidly against my arm. “I think you should buy me a couple of drinks, Jem Wolfe, and see where it gets you.”
I grinned at her. “Since when do I need to get you drunk to get between you and your panties?”
She leaned back and made a good show of acting shocked. It lasted for all of two seconds before she pressed against me again. “I’ve got my dad’s truck tonight. The one with the roomy backseat.”
“And the gun rack,” I added. “Don’t forget your dad’s hunting rifles. I know I never forget them cuz I figure one of those rifles is going to take my head off when he finds out I’ve been fucking his daughter in the backseat of his truck.”
“I know you, Jem, dangerous shit like that only makes you want it more.” She ran her tongue across her bottom lip. “But maybe you’re just not in the mood tonight.”
“Never said that.” I lifted my mug. “Just let me finish my beer.”
Dane leaned over. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing that fucking singing contest. Gabe said that they’re giving out a five hundred dollar prize for the best performance.” He spoke straight to me and completely ignored Katy. And if there was one thing Katy hated, it was being ignored.
Her chair scraped the hardwood floor as she pushed it back. “See you in ten?”
“I’ll be there with fucking bells on.”
She leaned down and pressed her lips against my ear. “Forget the damn bells and just make sure you have a condom.” She sashayed away with an exaggerated movement of her slim hips.
“Bitch,” Dane muttered. “Anyhow, what do you think? Should I go for it?”
“It’s your fucking pride, dude. I can’t sing worth shit, and you make me sound like a fucking Grammy winner. But, hey, without poker this place is dull as a fucking morgue tonight. So go for it.” I gulped back some beer. “Hey, by the way, thanks for your help today. Out on the water—Thanks.”
“Yep. Hey, what song should I sing?” And that was Dane. Deep down I knew he had some emotion, some fibers of being that made him more human, but he rarely showed even a spark of it. I had never figured out if keeping it all buried had helped him get through our crappy childhood or if that was just the way he was born. Being two years younger than Dane, my earliest memories of him were when he was six. He’d always been a little removed from anything happening around him, like he was living in his own separate world right smack in the middle of the real one. Even back when we were just two out-of-control boys playing bank robbers in the backyard, Dane was out for a good time and nothing else. He was rowdy as hell and the teachers never knew what to do with him. And none of it fazed him. But today, when I saw his face as I broke back through the surface, I saw it, that flicker of concern. He would never confess to it and he might very well have already forgotten that moment, but at the time, the incident had scared him plenty. It reminded me why I’d come back to this fucked up town. I’d spent my whole life watching his back, and in his own, less obvious way, he’d always watched mine.
Dane leaned back. He was wearing his usual head to toe black leather, including his black shit-kicker boots. It was a look that worked for him. Most people were afraid of him, of both of us for that matter, but Dane didn’t come after you unless you fully deserved it. And his anger, which rarely surfaced, was fucking explosive. I’d been on the receiving end of it twice growing up, and both times, I’d ended up with a trip to the emergency room. Fortunately, for the people of Blackthorn Ridge, he didn’t give a shit about much, so he rarely lost his temper. There were a few local women brave enough to date him. If he was a little less unpredictable, there’d be a lot more.
“Ozzy Osbourne,” Dane said as he lifted his beer mug.
“What about him?”
“I’m going to sing one of his songs. I think I can pull it off and snatch myself that five hundred bucks.”
“Well, I’ll be back in to cheer you on just as soon as I take care of some important business.”
“Yeah.” He motioned his head toward Katy who was giving me the hungry eye across the room. “There isn’t anything important or business-like with what you’re going outside to do.”
Chapter 9
Tashlyn
Everly stuck her phone back into her purse. “According to Hayden, who works at the grain and feed store and who is best friends with Finn’s sister’s workmate, Sally, who I can’t stand, by the way, Finn was released with a bump on the head and nothing more. Thank goodness. I only wish he’d be at Rotten Apples tonight to see me in this outfit.” She held up her arms and stared at the big bell shaped sleeves, a vintage shirt I had in my collection. It had once belonged to my aunt, and she’d graciously passed it to me when I spotted it looking mod and vintage and cool in her closet. Everly had pulled it out of my bag and fallen in love with it too. She paired it with a jean mini skirt and boots and she looked as if she’d just hopped out of a fashion magazine from the sixties.
With all she’d done for me, I was just happy that I finally had something to give her. I had no idea how to dress for a place called Rotten Apples, but my wardrobe was limited. I’d thrown on a faded calico dress and my favorite footwear, my worn out cowboy boots. Whenever I wore the dress and boots at home, Cormac would start talking with a southern twang. It always annoyed the hell out of me and he knew it, but that never stopped him. In retrospect, about the only time the guy wasn’t acting like a lofty, self-important ass was in bed.
“You look great, Everly. It’s a shame Finn will miss it.” I’d agreed to go out to the local bar only because Everly had been so excited about it. Her uncle had given her the night off, and I had no intention of letting her down.
“I’m so glad you came with me, Tash. Of the few friends I have, they are mostly a bunch of bores. They’re all right for a shopping trip or grabbing a coffee, but at a place like Rotten Apples, they stick out like a bunch of rotten apples. She chuckled at her play on words as she turned her car onto the main street. It chugged and lurched as we hit an uphill stretch of road. “Stupid old jalopy.”
“I’ve got to say, the name of the place doesn’t exactly make it sound inviting.” My first day at work had been long and extremely eventful. I would have preferred to drop into bed, making me just as boring as her other friends. Out of everything that had happened on my first day, it was still those few moments in the locker room with Jem that had drained me the most. There was something about him that put me entirely on high alert, mentally, physically and emotionally.
I’d jotted down only a few lines to Aunt Carly about the chaos in Mr. Stevens’ office and the two men nearly drowning. I’d decided to keep my postcards short, general narratives about my time here. Carly was the type who could read anything and make it into something to worry about. Especially when i
t came to me.
“I still can’t believe that Jem was the one to pull him out,” Everly said.
“Why not? He jumped in without even a second thought toward his own safety.” There it was again, my defensive tone, something that kept showing up unexpectedly when we were talking about Jem.
“Never said he didn’t.” She glanced over at me with a knowing smirk. “Oh my gosh, he’s gotten to you. Those devilish good looks have sucked you right in.”
“No, that’s not it at all.”
“It’s all right. It’s a perfectly normal response. You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last.”
“I just think your uncle may have judged him too harshly. That’s all. Just think you can’t really know someone unless you really know them.”
“I don’t really know you, but I know that I like you and you’re smart and funny and, I might add, you have the coolest clothes.”
“And I really like you too, Everly. Let’s drop the Wolfe topic. What’s this place like? Is there a band?”
“Sometimes a local band will play, but tonight is the Karaoke contest. There’s usually a nice cash prize for the person who gives the best performance, as judged by the audience.” She adjusted her mirror to keep the headlights out of her eyes. “Darn truck. I heard there was a lot of construction on the main freeway, which means we’ll be getting a lot of the overflow traffic for a few weeks. It’s good for Milly’s Diner but bad for the rest of the town. There’ll be a lot more trucks on the road. Hey, just realized I still haven’t heard you play your guitar. Can you sing too?”
I shrugged. “A little.”
“You should try for the money. It’s usually a bunch of no talents up there. You might just win.”
