by Lyz Kelley
“Let’s get moving.” Dale’s command boomed through the kitchen. “We have work to do.”
Chairs scraped across the hardwood floor. Ashley’s dog, Lucky, moved out of the way of scrambling feet. Ashley and Chase picked up more dishes. Gwen followed behind with her hands full of glasses. The sounds of family delivered a sting of envy.
Tonight had been easy.
Being here, watching Dale guide the conversation, take charge when required, support his kids, generated a sharp yank. Tonight she’d witnessed a different side of the man. He pulled on her heart, like a cat pulling on a ball of string, unraveling the yarn an inch at a time.
She fought against the sting in her eyes. No, she wouldn’t get emotional.
This was her chance to be free. Experience what a normal life felt like.
She didn’t want to leave Elkridge. She didn’t want to leave Ashley. Leave him.
She could stay.
Create a family.
But only if Shane kept his mouth shut.
Chapter Four
Three days later, Gwen walked into Mad Jack’s Pub.
The fear of seeing Shane had subsided—a bit—but the constant looking over her shoulder, being on edge, left her emotionally exhausted. She hadn’t been able to sleep well, eat, or focus.
Meeting Ashley and Dale for a hamburger at Mad Jack’s was just what she needed. For the first time in days, the thought of food didn’t nauseate her.
The roar of the pub’s crowd pumped her spirit full of energy. The license plates hanging on the walls, the mosaic resin bottle cap tables, the painted concrete floor, suited her rustic chic style.
“Hey, pretty lady. What can I get you?” Jack asked, picking up a couple of empty glasses and placing them in the sink, then grabbing a rag. He wiped down the bar and tossed a fresh coaster on the wooden surface in a practiced move. The nearest wide-screen showed a replay of the Broncos’ running back diving over the end-zone line for a touchdown. The crowded bar erupted again. The joyous frenzy of high-fives, slaps on the back, everyone talking at once kindled an electrifying harmony.
“Looks like you could use some help.”
“Yeah, good help these days is hard to come by. I wish Lisa was still here. She was the best waitress I ever had.”
“Did you ever hear from her? It’s so weird she just disappeared.”
“Nope. She just vanished.” Jack nodded to another customer, then focused on her. “What’s your pleasure?”
Gwen glanced at her buzzing phone and the text message from Ashley saying she was running late, then at the half-dozen beer spout handles. “What IPAs do you have on tap this week?”
Jack slid a laminated menu across the wooden counter while she settled onto a barstool. “I’ll have that Ft. Collins one I liked.”
“One Odell coming up.”
She placed her purse on the hook beneath the counter while Jack retreated to fill her order, then she turned to watch the kickoff and enjoy the zesty smell of hot wings and the Cajun spice of Jack’s famous fries.
“Hello, princess.”
Her neck and shoulders knotted, and she froze. No, not here. Not in front of all these people. She uncrossed her legs, wishing her purse was easier to reach, and turned to look at the man. “I asked you to leave me alone, Shane.”
“You and me, we have unfinished business.” An exhale of caramel, spice, and oak made her gag. Shane had been drinking his favorite single malt, and from the rich, syrupy scent, he’d had a couple of ounces too many.
“I have nothing to say to you.” She moved her hand lower, fumbling to reach her bag.
“Well, I have plenty to say to you, you bitch.”
She leaned away from his hot breath against her ear. Why can’t you just leave me alone? Doesn’t my father pay you enough?
“I’ll get my money, or I’ll post your picture on every social media app out there with the tagline ‘Mysterious daughter of William Zell found slumming in Colorado.’”
She thrust her elbow out to back him up. “Go ahead. Do it.” She pushed the bravado up another notch. “I don’t care. There’s nothing you or my family can do to me. I’ve worked my way up from nothing. I don’t need them, and I don’t need you. And as for social media—I’m old news. A week, maybe less, and the world will have forgotten about me again.”
Shane gripped her jaw and yanked her head toward him.
Holy hell.
Shards of agony shot along her jaw, and her neck muscles seized.
“You don’t need me?” His loathing slurred the words. “We’ll see about that.”
The searing pain produced tiny circles of light, and she blinked several times. She inched her hand toward her purse and her pepper spray. Her gun lay hidden in the bottom of the bag, but in such a crowded place, too many things could go wrong—deadly wrong. “Let go of me. You’re hurting me.”
“Just wait.” His warning slithered out with a snarl. “You haven’t begun to feel pain yet.”
“Is there a problem here?” Jack asked, setting a beer in front of her.
Shane’s fingers pressed harder into her skin.
Oh, God.
“Let her go.” A calm, cool voice with underlying menace demanded from somewhere in the crowd.
Dale. Oh, no.
Shane pushed her face away like she was a piece of trash, rocking her sideways and causing her to stumble off the stool. She took two steps to regain her balance and swiveled back to keep Shane in sight.
A glance from Dale made her think twice about retaliating. She didn’t want anyone getting hurt.
“Old man, you need to stop butting into my business.”
Dale appeared unfazed. There was no telling what he was thinking or might be planning.
“I’ll ask you politely—one more time—leave the lady alone.”
“Or what?” Shane’s face turned a brighter shade of angry, and his mouth wrenched into a dangerous snarl. “What are planning to do, old man?”
She managed to get a few local residents to back away. Unable to reach her purse and phone, she signaled to Jack to call the sheriff.
He picked up the bar’s phone and dialed.
Dale took a step to the right and another, forcing Shane to turn so he could keep an eye on him.
Away from me. He’s leading Shane away from me. Protecting me. Oh, crap.
“Then I guess we’ll have a not-so-polite discussion about how to treat a lady properly.”
A sinister laugh caused Shane’s shoulders to shake. “Her?” He pointed in her direction with his thumb. “If you haven’t figured it out, buddy, that isn’t no lady.”
“Last chance.” Dale’s even tone should have given Shane fair warning.
“No!” Gwen screamed at the same time Shane’s weight shifted forward and a flash of silver arced through the air.
Dale stepped sideways, out of the path of the eight-inch blade, and used Shane’s momentum to plow his head into the nearest pool table.
Shane flopped to the floor. Unmoving.
Ohshit. Ohshit. Ohshit. Gwen rushed forward.
“Are you okay?” She scanned Dale’s torso for blood, or a slice in the fabric of his shirt. Nothing.
“I’m fine, but I think your buddy here will have a major headache come morning.”
Now that was an understatement, if she’d ever heard one.
Dale lifted his booted foot and rolled Shane’s unconscious body over, grabbed a napkin off the nearest table to pick up the knife and looked back at Jack. “Do you have something I can use to tie up this piece of garbage?”
A smile skimmed across Jack’s face as he lifted the phone from his ear. “I got some plastic ties, but I don’t think you’ll need ’em. Dispatcher says the deputies are almost here.”
“Good.” Dale monitored the heap on the floor. “Between the two of us, I think we can come up with enough charges to keep him locked up overnight, or at least until he gets sober.” Jack held open a Ziploc bag for Dale to place the knife int
o. “I’m hungry. Can I order a buffalo burger?”
“Rare with blue cheese?” Jack asked.
“Yep, and sweet potato fries this time.” Dale held up Gwen’s beer. “You drinking this?”
“Go ahead. I can order another one,” she said, unable to keep her mouth from trembling from the adrenaline pulsing through her system.
Dale turned when Ernie, one of the town’s deputies, walked into the bar, one hand on his holster. “Heard there’s been some trouble.”
“Just a little.” Dale gave Gwen a wink.
Gwen gave Ernie a quick statement. Jack and half a dozen others did the same while the paramedics loaded Shane onto a stretcher. Good thing the restraining straps were sturdy, or Shane might have tried for round two.
Dale’s eyes suddenly sparkled with happiness. “There she is.”
“Hi, Dad.” Ashley kissed her father’s cheek. “What’s going on? The parking lot’s full of emergency vehicles, and the deputies wouldn’t let anyone inside for awhile.”
“Gwen’s friend came to visit. It seems he doesn’t play pool very well.”
Gwen choked on the beer Jack had handed her. “That’s an interesting way to describe it, and he’s not my friend.”
Ashley grabbed Gwen’s arm. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine. Nothing a beer and some fries can’t cure. Let’s get a booth. I want to hear your good news.” Gwen gave Ashley a hug, more to calm her friend’s concerns than her exploding nerves.
The three circled around and through tables, heading toward the dartboard lanes to select an empty booth. Dale slid in next to her, one leg draped over the end of the leather seat. She could feel the heat pouring off his body. The man might look composed, but he was anything but relaxed.
She laid a hand on his thigh. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
His dilated eyes turned to her. “Yes. But this isn’t over. You’ll need to be careful. Shane’s escalating, and that’s not good.”
“You’re probably right, but I really don’t want to talk about Shane, or what just happened. That would mean Shane won—and that’s not going to happen.” Gwen reached for her beer with shaky fingers and took a sip, but could barely swallow. “Ashley, what’s your good news?” She moved the silverware set wrapped in a napkin aside as the waitress dropped off water and confirmed their orders.
“I think our plan will work,” Ashley began with an enthusiasm Gwen hadn’t felt in quite a while.
Our plan. A shawl of comfort wrapped around her shoulders.
“According to county records,” Ashley continued, “the corner lot house we’re looking at is already zoned for mixed-use. A couple of years ago, when the planning commission met to discuss rezoning the daycare, they decided to include the blocks on either side of Bridge Street for mixed-use, because of the heavier traffic. However, the building is considered a historic structure. The clerk said that as long as the building exterior remains intact, and we’re able to find enough parking, we can get the necessary permits. We just need four spaces, and with the parallel parking along both streets along the corner lot, we should be fine.”
We. There was that heartwarming sentiment again.
Gwen threw her arms in the air. “We did it. Our plan’s working.”
Without a pause, she turned, pulling Dale in for a quick, celebratory hug, but then her arms wouldn’t let go. The heat from their bodies sizzled. She hadn’t intended to hug him. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t touch him. And if she didn’t let go, their body heat might just melt like cheese on a burger.
“Uh, um…” Ashley coughed into her fisted hand. “I can go get another table if you two would like to continue doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
Dale snapped back into his seat. “No. No. We’re fine.” He reached for his glass of water and took a long draw. “We were discussing…um, discussing…”
“The house?” The corners of Ashley’s mouth twitched as her brows rose a couple of centimeters.
“Right.” Dale took another long gulp.
Gwen pulled the tail of her white cotton shirt back into place. “Ahem. Yes…right. The house,” she confirmed, yet the musk of his aftershave tempted her to nuzzle closer and inhale deep. The need to touch and be touched created a thirst she’d been ignoring way too long. She grabbed her beer and guzzled.
Ashley’s smile deepened.
Would you stop? Gwen eyed her friend in a you’re supposed to be helping kind of way.
Thank goodness the food arrived, or Gwen might have slinked under the table to hide. The handsome man next to her didn’t appear any better off. Fumbling with the napkin holding the silverware, he dropped the bundle several times before getting the contents unwrapped. The crisp golden onion rings and her three-inch, loaded burger smelled delightful, but the lingering smell of Dale’s natural scent was so, so much more appetizing.
How come I never noticed before?
Maybe she had, but the attraction was too hard to admit.
Gwen wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, refusing to look at Ashley, counting the seeds on her dill pickle instead.
“Are you two okay?” Ashley asked, the humor causing Dale’s neck to break out in red splotches. “’Cause I’m really okay with eating at the bar. I can watch the game, and you two can go on doing whatever it is that you’re pretending you weren’t doing.”
“We’re not doing anything.” Dale responded too quickly and firmly, and anyone with an ounce of common sense would refuse to believe him.
“I’m glad that’s settled.” Ashley picked up her fork and jabbed at her lettuce, tomato slice, and onion, and dropped them on top of her burger. The corners of her eyes creased when her smile stretched. “Chase texted a while ago.” She paused to cut her hamburger in half. “He’s trying to get an appointment to view the house and confirm it’s structurally sound. He wants your help, Dad, since you’re the engineer.”
“Engineer?” Gwen looked from Ashley to Dale.
“I thought I told you. Dad has—what, three master’s degrees? Engineering, history, and business, I think.” Ashley pointed her fork at her father, who kept delivering surprise after surprise.
“What can I say? Studying kept me busy and out of the bars.” Dale shrugged off his daughter’s praise.
Three master’s degrees. And I thought I was doing well with my undergrad.
With every peel of the layers, the general became more and more interesting, and scrumptiously appealing. He was handsomely alpha, with a decisive nature, a don’t mess with my tribe attitude, and refreshingly lacking the arrogance and cockiness men of power typically liked to wield. Men like her father.
“Does Chase know when the house will be on the market?” he asked, picking up the ketchup bottle, his hand still shaking.
Ashley nodded and swallowed her burger bite. “It’s available now. The property will be listed with the agent tomorrow.”
Dale turned to Gwen. “We had better move fast.”
“I agree.” Too bad Dale was talking about the house, not the hookup thing.
When Dale picked up a bunch of his sweet potato fries, Gwen placed a napkin in her lap while the fantasy of licking the salt off his fingers played in her head.
“If Clairemont gets wind of the property,” Dale picked up another bunch of those tasty fries, “he’ll snag the land before we have a chance to put together an offer, and I don’t want that to happen. He practically owns half this town as it is. Clairemont can’t win. Not this time.”
“Sounds like you and Clairemont have a past,” Gwen said to avoid looking at Dale’s hands.
“Let’s just say he wasn’t thrilled when I purchased the land to build my home. He wanted that parcel, and I got it before he knew the tract of land was up for sale.”
A home. She’d never felt like she had a home.
Her parents’ house was more like a museum, to be oohed and aahed over by prominent guests.
Her home would be one of those places where friends and
family gathered. Laughed. Cried. Cherished each other. She’d been avoiding making a permanent commitment, staying flexible out of habit, since for so long she’d needed to be able to move on at a moment’s notice. Lately, staying in Elkridge felt right, especially now that Dale was back home.
“Let’s do this.” Gwen held up her beer glass to the center of the table. “To Elkridge.”
“To felix culpa.” Dale tapped his beer glass to hers, then Ashley’s. “To a happy fault. A disaster that ended up having surprisingly beneficial consequences.”
“Hear, hear.” Ashley raised her glass a little bit higher.
To my happy fault.
An abounding joy soaked into her bones, until her mother’s stern admonishment tainted the happy feeling. Mind your manners, young lady, or you’ll begin to understand what life is truly about.
Since childhood, she’d been surrounded by people…maids, personal assistants, tutors…and not once had she ever felt truly loved.
She breathed in a deep breath, filling the every crevice of her lungs.
What if her parents found her? Would they punish the people who helped her?
Maybe Shane being in town wasn’t a happy fault.
Maybe his presence would lead to people she cared about getting hurt, and that would just plain be her fault.
Chapter Five
While Dale drove them to the sheriff’s office the next day to clarify some details of the bar incident, Gwen let her resolve to put down permanent roots expand and solidify.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Dale noted while pulling into the parking lot.
“That’s ’cause I didn’t get much sleep last night. I stared at the wall half the night, the ceiling the other half.” She yawned and stretched, then zipped up her coat. “Let’s get this meeting over with. I want to get over to the real estate office as soon as it opens.”
Dale pulled his keys from the ignition and then draped his wrists over the steering wheel. He stared out the window. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you or not, but the sheriff called before I picked you up. Someone’s posted Shane’s bail.”
She grabbed the door handle. A wave of fear swelled before the emotion crashed up against her willpower. “I figured Shane would find a way to get released. He probably called one of my father’s lawyers.”
