by D G Barnes
Mac gave her a warm smile. She knew exactly where in Birchwood Ellie had been: on a wooden bench next to a huge oak tree, only a half-dozen meters from where her parents rested. The amount of time she spent there, sitting against the headstone lost in thought, had worried Mac in the beginning. When the colder weather set in, Ellie didn’t visit nearly as often, and when she did, she only stayed for a few minutes.
As the weather warmed the following spring, Ellie had once again stopped off at Birchwood on a more regular basis. Now she took her sketch pad with her, and over the past year, she had filled several. The first drawings were crude, but her art teacher saw the potential and encouraged her to keep practicing, and gladly volunteered his time to mentor her. The quality of her work and her overall disposition improved quickly, and Mac had to admit the visits to Birchwood along with the drawing did more for Ellie than any professional therapy could have. It wasn’t long after that Ellie discovered she enjoyed writing little stories and the occasional poem to accompany her drawings.
“I’d like to do that. Go somewhere quiet and forget about the world for a while.” Mac sighed as she spooned the homemade corned beef hash into the frying pan. “Can I read what you wrote?”
Ellie shook her head. “Maybe when it’s done.”
“Fair enough. Now go wash up. This will be ready in two shakes.”
***
With the groceries in their rightful place, Dana poured herself a coffee and strolled onto the large porch at the back of the house facing the ocean. The view was breathtaking, and she leaned against the railing as she admired it. The beach was a long thin ribbon of sand that stretched off into the distance in both directions. Waves gently rushed ashore only to retreat seconds later, leaving the sand dark and wet. A couple was on the beach, walking barefoot, their arms linked together. A dog raced around them and jumped up with eager anticipation as the man threw a ball several meters ahead of them. The dog barked and bolted down the beach after it. The woman laughed and happen to glance in Dana’s direction and gave her a friendly wave. Dana waved back at the stranger and sighed, remembering when she used to be happy like that couple.
She sat on the porch swing, alone with her thoughts, and watched as the blue sky slowly turned to shades of red and orange as the sun set. It was peaceful here. The hum of the city was gone, replaced with the new sounds and smells of her summer retreat. The rhythmic melody of the ocean waves and chorus of seagulls calling out as they soared overhead was a welcome change. She drew a deep breath and enjoyed the salt air, then took a swig of her coffee, immediately spitting it back into the cup. It had gone cold.
She was on her way to get a fresh cup when her eye caught the colorful brochure advertising The Rusty Anchor. She picked it up, remembering the brief encounter with Mac, still not understanding why she had reacted the way she had to her touch. What was it about this woman that caused her body to betray her. Sure, Mac was attractive. In a sexy, I want to rip your clothes off, sort of way.
She shook away the naughty thoughts dancing around inside her head. Get a grip, Lawson. This isn’t what you want, she thought, staring at the brochure. Deciding not to heed her own warning, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door.
The Rusty Anchor was alive with activity when Dana arrived, and there was a good size crowd, mostly women of course. They were gathered in groups around the tables and in the booths, talking and laughing and having a good time. Glancing around the room, Dana was unable to find an empty table to sit at. She stood there for what felt like an eternity, not sure what to do and feeling completely awkward. It wasn’t like she knew anyone here that she could join at their table. She didn’t really want a drink anyway, she told herself. Maybe she should go home and curl up with a good book. Yeah, a book. That’s what she needed. Mind made up, she headed for the door until a familiar voice brought her to a stop.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
Dana turned, and she suddenly felt her heart race. Mac was standing there, her expression warm and inviting. She had her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and wore a pair of snug jeans and a red polo with The Rusty Anchor embroidered on the left breast pocket.
“I…um…Couldn’t find a seat.”
“No problem. Come with me.” And with that, Mac grabbed her hand, which sent all sorts of wonderful sensations through her, and led her toward the bar. Mac tapped the shoulder of a man who was sitting on a barstool and said something to him Dana couldn’t make out. The man gave her a friendly nod, grabbed his beer, and vacated the seat.
“Here you go. Best seat in the house,” Mac said as she offered her the stool.
“Thanks, but did you just kick that guy out of his seat for me?” Dana asked, shocked and a bit flattered at the gesture.
Mac smiled that smile again. “Sorta. He’s with a group over there.” She pointed in the direction of a rowdy table not far away. “Besides, there is someone here that you may be acquainted with already.”
The man who was sitting to the right of the now vacant barstool turned as Mac placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her before catching sight of Dana.
“Well hello, lass,” Old Joe said. “It is nice to see you again.”
“And you, Joe.” Dana was happy to see the friendly shopkeeper from earlier.
“Where are my manners? Please. Sit, and keep an old man company for a bit.” He patted the barstool.
Dana sat and watched Mac move behind the bar. She stopped in front of her and placed a coaster on the well-worn surface. “So, what’ll it be?”
“White wine, please.”
“All right.” Mac reached for a glass from the overhead rack, and Dana took the opportunity to let her gaze travel the length of her torso.
“Have you settled in all right, Dana?” Old Joe asked.
“Hmm? What? Yes, thank you,” Dana stammered realizing she was being spoken to. She turned to Joe, feeling warmth in her cheeks, and wondered if he had seen her checking out the bartender. “I took you up on your suggestion and had lunch here today, and you weren’t joking about the food. It was truly wonderful.”
“Aye, lass. It is,” Old Joe said with a wink.
“Dad. You want another beer?” Mac asked as she set the wine in front of Dana.
“No, love. I’ve had my fill. I’m going to finish this and be on my way.” Old Joe pointed at his nearly empty glass.
Dana’s eyes widened. “You’re Mac’s father?” Of course, he’s Mac’s father, and he probably just watched her ogling his daughter.
He nodded. “You know,” he said leaning in a bit closer to Dana, “Mac isn’t actually her name.”
“Dad,” Mac said in warning. She gave her father the evil eye but still smiled at him.
Old Joe ignored her protest. “She was born Taylor Elizabeth Mackenzie, but for some reason, around age ten or so, she decided she wanted to be called Mac. And quite insistent on it too. Her mother and I figured it was a phase, and she would grow out of it but no; it stuck.”
“Okay, Dad. Dana doesn’t want to hear my life story.”
“Oh! But I do. It sounds interesting so far.” Dana patted Old Joe’s hand.
“Maybe some other time, lass.” He downed the last of his beer and slid off the barstool. “I must be off. Jeopardy will be on soon.”
“Some other time then,” Dana said. “Have a good night, Joe.”
“Night, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you too, honey. Take good care of our new guest here.” He gave Dana a wink before heading for the door.
“So, Taylor Mackenzie. I see why this is the best seat in the house. Your father is a charmer.”
“Please, don’t call me Taylor.” Mac groaned as she handed a cocktail to the woman sitting to Dana’s left. “And yes, he can be a charmer.” She leaned in closer, and Dana thought she caught a hint of lilac. “But, it’s the best seat in the house because it's much easier for me to flirt with you sitting here as opposed to the other side of the room.” She pulled back an
d gave her a look that sent a pleasant warmth to all points of her body. All points.
“Oh, really? Just what makes you think I would be interested in such flirts?” Dana asked and ignored the warning bells ringing in her head.
“I’m a bartender. I can read people, and I’m rather good at it too, if I do say so myself.”
Dana’s stomach flip-flopped as Mac gave her the smile she liked so much. Damn, she was good, and the thought of Mac flirting sent tingles down her spine. Dana took a large swallow of her wine and watched Mac move down the bar to serve another customer. She couldn’t help but let her eyes follow the swaying of her hips and admire how those painted on jeans hugged her ass.
“What if I told you I was straight?” Dana asked, pushing her empty glass toward Mac when she returned.
Mac eyed her for a moment, then filled a clean glass and placed it in front of her. “But you’re not,” she said confidently.
“Okay. Hypothetically speaking then.”
“I don’t speak hypothetical.” Mac pulled a beer from the tap and handing it down to her co-worker.
Dana pursed her lips in frustration. “You know–”
“You’re really cute when you do that.” Mac pointed at Dana’s mouth, making little circles in the air with her finger.
“Do what?”
“That face you make when you’re frustrated.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t make a face.”
“Yeah, ya did. And it’s cute.”
As the evening went on, Mac continued to flirt with her all the while serving the other patrons seated at the bar. To Dana’s delight, there was another bartender on duty, which meant she could enjoy more of Mac’s company. She felt a bit light-headed, not sure if it was the wine, Mac’s playful banter, or the gentle touches to her forearm. Either way, she could have sat there all night and let Mac flirt with her, but her bladder had other ideas.
Sliding off the barstool, she wobbled and grabbed the edge of the bar for support. Seeing the look of concern on Mac’s face she raised a hand. “I’m okay. Foot’s asleep,” she lied. “I’ll be right back.” Dana steadied herself and made her way to the washroom, concentrating on each step she took. How much had she had to drink? Maybe she should call it a night and catch a cab.
Once she finished washing her hands, she stayed in the washroom for a few minutes and studied her reflection in the mirror. The good feelings she felt wasn’t the alcohol talking. She was having a good time tonight, thanks mostly to Mac. She wasn’t entirely sure if Mac was naturally friendly and flirtatious with everyone or if she merely wanted to get into her pants. But she didn’t want to go down that road, though her traitorous body was more than ready to at that moment. Deciding it would be best for her to head home, she left the washroom and glanced around for a payphone, confident she would find business cards for local cab companies there. Not immediately seeing what she was looking for, she headed back to the bar. Mac would most likely have a number for her.
Approaching the bar, she didn’t hear the warning cry from Mac over the din of the crowd, nor did she see the puddle of spilled booze and ice on the floor until it was too late. A sharp stab of pain shot up her leg as her foot twisted inward. Her vision blurred momentarily, and the world moved in slow motion as the image of the bar turned into a view of the ceiling. The pain of hitting the floor was nothing compared to the throbbing in her ankle. She lay there for what felt like an eternity. Her head was swimming, and she had to fight back against the wave of nausea that passed through her.
“Dana? God, Dana, are you all right?” a voice asked.
Dana turned her head and looked at the person who had spoken. Mac was kneeling there, her eyebrows knitted in concern.
She nodded. “Yeah, Mac. I’m…shit!” She winced at the pain as she tried to move her foot. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
Mac motioned for the other bartender to come over. “Help me get her into a chair, then get a bag of ice and a towel.”
“I can manage.” Dana tried to get up and instantly regretted it.
“Don’t be silly. Let us help.” Mac and the other bartender helped her into a chair. Mac gently removed the shoe from the offending foot and examined her ankle. “Some mild swelling. We’ll get some ice on it, and you should try and stay off it for a few hours.”
Well isn’t this great. She was already embarrassed enough. Of course, everyone had stopped to look at her when she fell, probably thought she was a drunk. Now Mac wanted her to sit around for a few more hours. Not going to happen.
“Actually, I was going to ask you to call me a cab before I landed on my ass like a drunken boob. So, if you wouldn’t mind, I will go home and get out of your hair.”
Mac caught her eye. “Yeah. No. When Steve gets back with the ice, we’re going to help you upstairs to my place where I can keep an eye on you for a while,” she said matter-of-factly.
She was about to protest, but Mac shushed her with a finger to her lips. “Doctor’s orders.” And she gave her that smile. Dana’s belly tightened. That smile really should be illegal.
“Oh, so you’re a doctor too?” Dana guffawed.
“I’m whatever my customer needs at the time. A shoulder to cry on, a sounding board, a priest, even a doctor as it turns out,” Mac said as Steve returned with the ice and towel. “Steve. I’m going to take Dana up to my place so I can better attend to her ankle. Would you mind handling the bar on your own for a while?”
“No sweat, Mac. Sorry about your ankle, miss. Hope you feel better soon.” Both Mac and Dana thanked him, and he headed back to the bar.
Mac helped her stand and draped the arm of Dana’s injured side over her shoulder and placed a hand on her opposite hip. Dana clutched the towel-wrapped bag of ice in her free hand as they made their way through the bar and up the stairs. The much more enjoyable sensation of Mac’s proximity and her hand on her hip overshadowed the throbbing in her ankle.
“You planned this, didn’t you? Used some sort of bartender voodoo to get me to fall so you could get me back to your place. I’m on to you Taylor Mackenzie, and it’s not going to work,” Dana teased and enjoyed the pained look Mac gave at the sound of her name.
“Yes, I intentionally threw ice on the floor in hopes a beautiful maiden would slip and fall so I could swoop in and carry her off to my bed,” Mac said playfully.
“Beautiful maiden, huh?” She gazed into Mac’s amazing green eyes as they stood at the door of her loft.
“I don’t know about being a maiden. But, you certainly are beautiful,” Mac replied softly.
Heat radiated from her core, and Dana swallow hard. She looked down only to catch sight of Mac’s full lower lip. It so needed to be kissed. A bolt of fear shot through her. What was she doing? This so wasn’t how she expected the evening to go. She should run, but her ankle would only betray her. This didn’t surprise her. It was as if her body, along with the rest of the universe, was conspiring to make her go somewhere she didn’t want. Damn, this wasn’t fair. The sound of the door distracted her, and she turned to see Mac had opened it.
“Come on. Let’s get you on the sofa and some ice on that ankle.”
When they reached the sofa, Mac changed her position and faced her. Grasping both shoulders so Dana could place most of her weight on Mac and not her foot, she guided Dana back toward the sofa. That’s when a misplaced sneaker joined the conspiracy and Dana stumbled over it. Suddenly feeling herself falling, and not the controlled descent she expected, Dana shrieked and grabbed at Mac’s arms.
Unprepared and entirely off balance, both women fell onto the sofa. Dana landing flat on her back with Mac on top of her. When Dana opened her eyes, ones of emerald green looked back at her. She stared, and her heart raced. The scent of lilac from earlier filled her nostrils once again, only stronger now as Mac was much closer and her ponytail hung down and rested against her cheek. Time slowed as they lay there, mere centimeters separating their faces. She glanced at Mac’s m
outh and licked her lips as if by instinct.
Her brain registered the presence of the body on top of her, and it sent excited little shivers through her. Mac’s thigh was resting between hers, which only added to the warmth she felt throughout her abdomen. She stared into Mac’s eyes again and ever so slightly nodded, betrayed once again by her own body.
She watched luscious red lips part and move ever closer. Her heart pounded in her chest and breathing became a chore. Eyes closed, she felt soft lips brush against hers. Their shared breath was intoxicating. She moaned and brought a hand to the back of Mac’s neck.
“Mac? What’s going on?” A sleepy voice asked.
Chapter Four
Mac quickly pushed herself from Dana and stood, her hands moving over her clothes as if to hide evidence of her activity. She smiled meekly at the girl who looked at her questioningly. Mac glanced at Dana, watching her for a moment as she pushed herself into a seated position on the sofa. She took a calming breath and spoke.
“Ellie, hey. What are you doing up?”
“I thought I heard someone yell. I came out to see if you were okay.” Noticing Dana sitting there, she gave Mac a knowing grin. “Oh, I’m sorry; you have…company.”
“No, Ellie. It’s okay. This is Dana. She slipped on a spilled drink and twisted her ankle. I was putting ice on it to help with the swelling.” She sat on the sofa and acted as if nothing intimate had happened.
Ellie moved deeper into the living room. “Hi, Dana.” She cocked her head, studying Dana more closely. “Hey, you were in the store earlier today, weren’t you?”
“Hi again, Ellie. Yes, that was me.” Dana smiled until Mac lifted her injured and shoeless foot onto her lap and applied ice to it. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“You two already met then?” Mac asked.
“Yeah. This is the lady I was telling you about. The one who I said looked familiar but didn’t know.”
“Well, I would introduce you properly, but I don’t know your last name, Dana,” Mac said.
