by Clara Cody
“Who?”
“Ryan,” she said, pointing to the flailing bartender. “Geez, girl, now that you’re out from Chris’ claws, you’re going to have to meet some people other than me. You know the dead people of this town more than the living.”
We started towards the bar. “Don’t remind me. I’d rather be writing anything other than obituaries. But Jack won’t give me anything else.”
“I doubt there is anything else. This is Kodiak Cliff. Nothing happens here.”
I sighed. “Why did I let stupid Chris drag me out here?”
“Why don’t you just move back, then? Not that I want you to, I mean, I’d have to go back to paying rent on my own and—”
“How sweet.”
She nudged me with her elbow. “And I would miss you. Anyway, now that Chris isn’t holding you back, you can do whatever you want.”
“I know.” I thought of how happy that would make my parents. For me to move back, tail between my legs…it would be like Christmas for them. If I had to hear my mother say I told you so one more time, I might just kill myself. Suddenly, I needed that drink again. Finally, I managed to wave down the guy behind the bar. He was sweating buckets when he came over.
“What are you doing, Ryan?” Emma asked. “Sean’s gonna kill you.”
He wiped sweat from his brow. “Who do you think asked me to work the bar?”
“Really? Sean wants you behind the bar?”
He nodded proudly. “Gave me a job this afternoon.”
“Where’s he now? I’ve never seen him more than two meters from the tap before.”
“He had an accident. Nothing serious, just went to the hospital. Anyway, I’m kinda swamped, what can I get you?”
Emma ordered a beer, and I asked for a rye and coke. A double. “And do you have jalapeño poppers and chicken fingers?”
“Uh huh.”
“Give me an order of both.”
After watching Ryan struggle a moment to get our drinks, we went and sat down at the only free table we could find next to a couple of lumberjack-looking guys. I downed my drink in record time. I was on a mission to drown my sorrows in rye and fried foods, and forget about Christopher.
I was about to get up and order another drink when the front door sprang open, letting in a gust of cool Northern air. I shivered as I turned to look, out of curiosity. A man’s form filled the doorway, making it look like a Hobbit door. He was a lumberjack-looking, scruffy Adonis. Dark brown hair, square jaw, monstrous shoulders. There was a hardness to his eyes, though. And maybe a little danger. “Oh, yum.” It slipped out in a whisper.
His ears seemed to perk up. Despite the distance and the music, he looked in my direction. I gasped, looking away as quickly as possible. No way, I thought. There’s no way he could have heard me. Is there? Maybe I was louder than I thought.
“What’s with you?” Emma asked me.
“Oh, shit, I think he heard me.”
“Heard what?”
I tried to sneak another glance his way, only to find him still staring at me. Those piercing eyes had me locked in. They were stunning. I was barely able to look away. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed he was coming towards us. “Quick, say something funny,” I said, grabbing Emma’s wrist.
“We’re all going to die one day, and nothing we do really matters.”
“Ha-ha, oh my God, you’re so funny!” I sold the fake laugh with everything I had while giving her a look that said I’d kill her in her sleep and a swift kick under the table. “Good one, Emma.”
“Emma,” Dreamboat said, stopping at our table. Ugh, even his voice is sexy. A deep, baritone rumble. “Been awhile since I saw you around.” I noticed the white gauze wrapped around his bicep. Don’t be the mute bartender, don’t be the mute bartender!
“Hey, Sean.”
Damn. If Emma failed to get anywhere with him, I didn’t stand a chance.
Emma’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “Busy at the paper, showing this one the ropes.”
He turned to me. “You are?”
I raised my eyebrow. Must not be one for pleasantries. I opened my mouth to answer, but Emma barreled in before I had a chance. “Sean Thorn, this is Lacey Brooks. She writes the obits at the paper.”
“Hi,” I squeaked, meeting his gaze. He had beautiful brown chocolate eyes. Ones that seemed to see right through me. It was like his eyes were electrified and sending currents of energy through me, down into my belly. I realized then just how long it had been since I’d gotten laid. I bit my lip trying not to think about that.
“I haven’t seen you before,” he said.
“Well, I—”
“She spent all her time with her boyfriend.”
He broke eye contact a moment, glancing Emma’s way. The side of his mouth twitched. “Boyfriend, huh?”
“Not anymore,” I was quick to answer.
He made a noise like a harrumph, but I couldn’t tell what it meant. Was it a good sound or a bad sound?
“Not really,” Emma cut in. “She walked in on him fucking some co-worker. He was gross.”
Sean’s face softened. Was that a grin? “Fuck him then. He was an idiot.” His eyes roamed back to the bar where someone was yelling. Ryan was attempting to light a shot glass on fire. “Excuse me, I have to go save Ryan before he burns the place down.”
I waited until he was gone to finally let out my breath.
“Holy shit!” Emma exclaimed in a hushed voice. “He’s barely strung four words to talk to me before!”
“He’s so hot!”
“Told you he was fun to ogle.” She took a sip of beer. “I think he likes you.”
“No way.”
“Way! Seriously, never once has he gone out of his way to talk to me, and I am by far the hottest bitch in this town.”
I rolled my eyes, but it was probably true. She was gorgeous, to say the least. Thick waves of red hair, tall, slim with big green eyes. “He probably just came over to talk to you.”
“Nah-uh, honey. He’s had plenty of chances to talk to me.”
“Do you think I’m his type?” I was more than comfortable with the size I was and the booty I had, but there were lots of guys that weren’t. Chris being one of them.
“Who knows?” she answered. “No one else around here has been his type, so you could be just the girl he’s looking for.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Don’t do it, Sean, I told myself, fighting the urge to look over in her direction again. Keep it together. I could feel the animal inside pulling me towards her table. I grabbed the closest bottle and poured myself a shot. It burned going down, but the distraction helped.
“That bad?” Ryan asked, beads of sweat dotting his forehead.
“No,” I lied.
“You need stitches?”
I poured myself another shot and downed it, clenching the small glass so tight I thought it might shatter in my hand. Even across the bar, I could smell her. The shampoo she used, her perfume, her skin. I groaned, trying not to think about it. “Just a couple,” I answered him with a growl. I had to get out of there. I turned and started towards the kitchen.
As incapable of taking a hint as always, he followed closely behind. “Oh man, I’m fired, aren’t I? Shit, Ryan, you’re such a fuck up.”
“I’m not going to fire you, Ryan.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath, there in the safety of the kitchen. “I’m impressed you managed to hold down the fort.” I looked pointedly at Larry standing over the deep fryer. “On your own,” I added, for his sake.
Larry spread his hands. “Hey, I had stuff to do.” He pulled the basket from the fryer and gave it a shake before picking out the chicken fingers and jalapeño poppers.
“That’s for Emma’s friend,” Ryan said, taking the plate in his good hand.
“Give that to me,” I said, taking the plate, worried she might end up wearing it. “Besides, you need to change the bandage on that
hand of yours. Looks like you’re bleeding again.”
He leaned on the counter and looked at his hand. “Oh, right. Sorry.”
I noticed that he was starting to look a little bit peaked. “You okay?”
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little…I dunno, maybe under the weather.”
“Take the rest of the night off. Go home, rest up. I got it from here.”
“You sure? I don’t mind working. I’ve worked through worse than this, trust me.”
I didn’t doubt it. Old man Bailey was a hard-ass from another generation. He wouldn’t let a guy go home just because he was sick. “Don’t worry about it, really.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I carried the plate out into the bar again. I could have found her with my eyes closed, just following her scent. Damn, she smelled good. Like berries and honey…and just a hint of arousal. At least I wasn’t the only one turned on. Just drop it off and go. No need to even talk.
“Food’s up,” I said, placing the plate in front of her, cursing myself for already opening my big mouth. What the hell did this girl do to me? I turned to Emma. “Nothing for you?” She shook her head.
Lacey was impressing me more and more by the minute. It wasn’t every woman that was confident enough to order a big plate like that on her own. Women usually ate in packs, like going to the bathroom or dancing. Ignoring the voice in my head that told me to just walk away, I pulled out a chair and sat down. Lacey’s soft cheeks flushed, making her look even sexier. My bear stirred…amongst other things.
“So, Lacey,” I started. “Where you from?”
“Toronto. You?”
I shrugged. “Around here.”
She looked away, plucking a popper off the plate and biting into it. Her eyes went wide, and she frantically fanned at her mouth. “Hot, hot!”
Emma laughed, almost spitting her beer across the table.
“You okay?”
She nodded, breathing into her palm to cool it off. “Just burned my tongue, that’s all,” she answered after it was safe enough to swallow.
“Here, I have a trick.” I snatched a sugar packet from the tray in the center of the table and tore a corner from it. “Open your mouth.” I stood as she cocked an eyebrow. “Trust me, okay?” She blinked and licked her lips but obeyed. Gently, I touched a finger to her chin, tilting her head back. Her skin was incredibly soft. The simple touch surged through me like fire. Her lips parted and for a second, I considered dropping the sugar and kissing her. Instead, I upended the sugar packet, dusting her pink tongue.
“There,” I said, and she snapped her mouth shut again. “That should do it.”
“Do what?” she asked, tongue thick with sugar.
“Cures a burnt tongue. A trick my mom used to use. Works like a charm.”
She pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a grin. “Thanks.”
I noticed how Emma, sitting on the other side of the table, was watching us grinning like a fox. I cleared my throat and pushed the chair back in. “Anyway, enjoy the food, wait till it cools down and all.” I hurried off before I could say or do anything else.
Shit, I thought. Another encounter like that, and I’m in big trouble.
####
Leaving The Den, I shot another look back towards the bar. Sean had made himself scarce since bringing my food. I paused in the doorway hoping to catch his eye before I left. No such luck. He was busy pouring beers for a group of giggling girls in sparkly, low-cut tops.
“You coming?” Emma called, halfway to her car.
“Yeah.” I let the door swing closed. I checked my phone as I staggered slightly behind Emma. Three missed calls from Chris. I ignored them. He could call his little nurse friend if he needed to talk to someone. “Fuuuck yooou,” I mumbled at my phone.
“You okay?” Emma asked, turning on her heel.
I sniffed. “Just asshat again. You know what the worst of it was?” I took a steadying breath. I hadn’t repeated any of this until now, not even to Emma. The alcohol had given me just enough courage to say it out loud. “He acted like it was my fault!”
She gasped. “No!”
I nodded and looked down at my shoes. “He said that he loved me, but that I just couldn’t keep up with him…you know…sexually.”
“What?”
“I’m too big, basically, and he needs more activity or something. I mean, what the hell does he want? Backflips? I might be bigger, but I’ve never had any complaints before.” At the time, I’d wanted to punch him, but I just went home and cried a lot. Now, I was back to feeling pissed, but there was still that annoying voice in the back of my mind wondering if he was right. I’ve always been a bigger girl, but I’ve never felt self-conscious before. I hated Christopher for making me doubt myself like that.
“Don’t let that loser get you down. He’s just a horn-dog who needed a quick excuse to screw around. Guys always do that shit. They want you to think it’s your fault that they cheat. I had an ex that told me he only hit on my sister because I hadn’t blown him in a week. A week! Men are pigs.”
Maybe she was right. Christopher was the type of guy to do that. If someone as gorgeous as Emma heard that same shit, maybe my weight wasn’t the problem. I wrapped my arms around her neck, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Emma! I needed that.”
“Anytime, girl!” She ground to a halt in front of her car. “Oh my God!” She stared down at something that lay beside her car door, a look of disgust and horror on her face.
“What is it?” A gasp escaped my lips as I laid eyes on it.
A rabbit lay on the ground. Or what remained of the rabbit, at least. It was practically torn apart. Skin and fur shredded, its intestines scattered. Blood all around it. “Jesus!”
She sighed. “Gross. There better not be blood on my car. Or even a scratch.”
I covered my mouth. “What do you think happened to it?”
“Probably just a fox out for a hunt.”
I looked over my shoulder, staring out into the dark forest beyond the road. “Just a fox? What if it was something bigger?”
“There isn’t anything bigger. Not around here at least.”
“I thought there were supposed to be like…wildcats or bears this far up north. Look,” I said, reaching into my purse for the small tin bottle I kept in the inside pocket. “I even bought bear spray at the tourist shop on Main Street.”
“At least it can double as pepper spray.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “It’s basically the same thing. But this one is legal. Not that you’ll need it out here either. It’s not like Toronto.”
“Yeah, well knock T-dot all you want, but I never came across ravaged bunnies. Do you have a shovel in your trunk?”
She scoffed. “What are you going to do? Have a funeral?”
“I don’t know. Move it over onto the grass. I can’t just leave the poor little thing here in a parking lot.”
“Whatever killed it is probably just going to come back and finish eating it.”
“At least people won’t see it, or run over it or anything.”
“Fine. But you’d better clean my shovel. I don’t want rabbit guts in my trunk.”
The shovel was small, really more for just digging out her car in case she got stuck in some snow, but it worked. I eased the poor creature off the pavement and carried him over to the dark grass. It didn’t feel right just dumping its little body where ever, so I laid it underneath a pine tree that wasn’t far off. Emma was probably right, and a hungry fox would be by as soon as we left to finish its meal, but still. If I were either a dead rabbit or a fox, I would much prefer being under a tree than in the middle of a parking lot with a bunch of drunk-os coming and going.
CHAPTER FIVE
“No, Mom, I really don’t think that’s going to happen.” I rolled my eyes in Emma’s direction pointing an annoyed finger at the phone pressed to my ear.
“But, why? He’s such a nice boy, such a nice
family.” Honestly, she was more concerned with Christopher’s family than my happiness. Lovely. That was my parents to a T. The only reason they eventually accepted the idea of me moving to this tiny little town was because I was going with Chris. My mother never would have relented if she hadn’t been picturing an expensive wedding and little blond babies in the future.
“Well, he’s not that nice, as it turns out.”
“Every relationship has its up and downs, honey.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s still getting plenty of ups and downs.” With Nurse Twinkle-Tits.
“You are so stubborn. What are we supposed to tell his parents this weekend at the country club?”
“Maybe that they should have done a better job raising their son.”
Mom gasped. “You’re willing to throw away the last few months? Everything you’ve done? Moving there of all places! Over nothing?”
I bit my tongue to stop me from spilling the beans about Chris’ little romp with Nurse Ratchet. Not that they weren’t my beans to spill. I was just careful as to how much of my life I let my parents into. My love life was one area where I usually left them in the dark. I’d made the mistake of telling them at all about Chris, and this was the price. Besides, throw away what? A crappy half-assed relationship? Pft! “It wasn’t a complete waste, Mom. I do still have a job, you know?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. You only took that lousy offer because of Chris. If you insist on doing something as tacky as journalism, at least be on television. Like that Maria Shriver or Megyn Kelly.”
“Actually, Mom,” I started, my voice full of smarmy defiance. “I really love it here. Kodiak Cliff might be my favorite place in the entire world. I think it’s the fresh air and down-to-Earth people.”
My mother scoffed into the phone as Emma held up a piece of white paper; big bold letters scrawled across. Chocolate Eclairs at Stephi’s? My mouth watered at the thought. “Sorry, Mom, gotta go. Boss is screaming in my ear.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Bye!” I hung up the phone and let out a primal growl. “Ugh, what is wrong with that woman?”
“Inbreeding?”
