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Holiday Encounters Books 1-3 Omnibus

Page 12

by Amy Lamont


  “I don’t know if this is the job I wanted,” I mumbled.

  “You know what I mean.” My mom’s sigh floated through the phone, loaded down with exhaustion and something else. “I want something more. And I always thought if I was just patient, my turn would come.”

  I swallowed hard. Mom’s words sounded an awful lot like my own earlier thoughts.

  “So can’t you have more with Daddy?” I asked, my voice just barely above a whisper.

  “I talked to your Dad about it. He wouldn’t listen. When I mentioned going back to school, he asked if it would interfere with planning the charity auction his company does every year. I swear, he doesn’t even see me as a person anymore. I’m the thing that makes sure his dinner gets to the table every night and his socks and underwear get washed and folded and put in his drawers.”

  “Oh, Mom.” My heart squeezed at her words. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way. I know we have a tendency to take you for granted, and you’ve done everything for us.”

  My mom clicked her tongue impatiently. “You never made me feel that way. I love taking care of my family. But most of my family is grown and gone and taking care of themselves these days. And now it’s my turn. Only your dad doesn’t see it that way. When he asked about how my going to school would affect him, it hit me. If I want my chance at more, I’m going to have to take it. I can’t wait around for someone else to give it to me. I could be dead before that happens.”

  I slumped in my desk chair, my phone clutched to my ear. Mom could be talking about me. My mom was in her fifties and she’d waited more than half her life for someone else to recognize all her good deeds and give her a chance at more. And it never came.

  As my mom told me the arrangements she made to get an apartment and start looking for a job, I sat there shell-shocked. And a little niggling voice in the back of my head got louder the longer my mom talked.

  I didn’t want to find myself middle-aged and still waiting for something more for my life.

  What the hell am I waiting for?

  I sat at my desk after my mom hung up, trying to absorb the shock of her news, worrying about my dad, and turning that question over and over in my head—what am I waiting for? The memory of sitting on the New Jersey transit train back into the city with Jade, Emma and Paige on Thanksgiving mingled with those thoughts. Jade and Paige and I had been so determined to get Emma out of her rut, and we all pointed out how our own lives were lacking to get her to agree.

  At the time, I hadn’t let myself think about it too hard, but my complaints about my job and lack of a life suddenly rang true. Just like my mom, I kept waiting for something to happen, for someone to hand me something because I worked so hard and kept my mouth shut.

  But what if this was it? What if being nice and hard working wasn’t enough? Was I going to settle for what life handed me until I woke up one morning at fifty-five wondering when my turn would come?

  At some point, I’d have to deal with my parents’ separation and talk to my dad and my brother. But right now, the only thing I could do was wonder if I’d gotten it all wrong.

  Enough. Time to answer the question already. What was I waiting for?

  I closed my eyes and suddenly, just like on New Year’s Eve, just like in every dream I’d had this week, a face popped up in my mind.

  Hunter Lawson.

  Only this time I didn’t shake it off. I let his image fill my head. And as I thought of him, an idea formed. I was going to get out of my rut. I was going to stop waiting for good things to come to me. I was going to win the bet.

  And who better to help me win than Hunter? I’d watched from my window countless times as he jumped on his motorcycle and rode off. How many times had I wished I was on the seat behind him, my arms wrapped around his waist, my face pressed to his back?

  Before I could think better of it, I snatched the sticky pad from my desk drawer and wrote a terse note explaining I’d had a family emergency and needed to leave early. I slapped it on Ken’s door and took a brief moment to gleefully picture his face when he saw it and realized he might have to do some of his own tedious work for a change.

  I grabbed my purse and coat and headed for the elevators. Sue stepped off as I stepped on.

  “Headed for lunch?” she asked.

  I grinned and shook my head. “Nope, I decided to let Ken do his own work today. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  As the elevator doors slid closed, Sue’s chuckle and the words “Good for you, girl” floated in. I smiled and my stomach rippled with a combination of excitement and nerves.

  I was going to see Hunter Lawson, the man of my dreams. For once I was going to stop being Miss Nice Girl and go after what I wanted.

  ***

  After the two-hour train ride from Grand Central Station and scrounging for a cab once I got to my destination, some of my determination had worn off. I stared out the window of the taxi and wrinkled my nose at the sign on the building we’d just parked in front of. How the heck had Hunter Lawson ended up working at a dive bar called Rooster’s? When I spoke to my brother a few months ago, he’d mentioned where Hunter worked, but I had trouble picturing it.

  Last time I saw Hunter, he’d been in uniform.

  My mouth went a bit dry at that thought. He’d been barely twenty-one, but he’d filled out his fatigues in ways that made my imagination run wild, all lean muscle and sun-bronzed skin.

  Of course, he hadn’t seen me. I’d kept my nose pressed to the cold glass of my bedroom window, tears leaking from my eyes, as I watched my brother walk across the lawn to give Hunter a one armed hug, back slap combo. Both of them wore blank expressions, both stoically attempting to hide their emotions.

  But I knew what they were feeling. Hunter had been my brother’s best friend since we were kids. And I’d been in love with him for almost that long.

  I sighed. Once again I was staring out a window dreaming about Hunter. I glanced around the parking lot, taking in a couple of beater SUVs and even two motorcycles parked out front.

  What on earth was I doing here? This was not my kind of place. And Hunter Lawson, no matter how much I might want it to be different, was not the kind of guy who’d ever be interested in me. This had mistake written all over it. I needed to turn right around and head back to the city.

  “Lady, I don’t have all day. Are you getting out or am I taking you somewhere else?”

  I jumped at the cab driver’s words. I twisted to look at him. He stared at me with impatience clearly stamped on his face, his finger tapping the top of the still running meter.

  Crap.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry.” I fumbled through my purse in search of my wallet. I peered at the meter and then his annoyed expression. I quickly gathered bills, adding a few more dollars than I’d normally tip since he seemed beyond aggravated.

  I thrust the money at him, and pushed the door open. Before I could blink, I stood outside as the cab tore out of the parking lot.

  I stared after it until it went out of sight. Now what? I couldn’t go in and face Hunter, could I? Why didn’t I just tell that cabbie to take me back to the train station?

  But I knew the answer. He’d gotten annoyed and my nice reflex kicked in. God forbid I was responsible for someone else’s irritation.

  I stamped my black-booted foot and huffed out a breath. What was wrong with me? I paid that man to drive me. Jade or Paige would have told him to keep his pants on and made him wait until they decided what they wanted to do next. But do I demand to be treated respectfully?

  Nope, not me. My instincts took over, and instead of telling him to take me back to the train station or at least somewhere else where I could take my time and think things over, I jumped to ease his anger. Never mind that it left me, literally, out in the cold.

  Well, maybe not so cold. I shrugged underneath the wool pea coat I’d pulled on without checking the weather before I left this morning. Seriously, who expects
fifty-degree days this time of year? Either way, there was no excuse for treating me like crap. And worse, I’d actually paid him extra to do it.

  My spine straightened, and I looked up at Rooster’s.

  Screw nice. I marched toward the bar, determined to do exactly what I’d come here to do—throw myself at Hunter Lawson.

  Chapter Three

  I stepped out of the harsh winter glare into the dimly lit bar. I stopped in the doorway, giving my eyes time to adjust while I frantically worked to hold onto my courage. My gaze moved over the large room.

  On one end there were two pool tables, one of which was currently in use. Taking in the jeans, t-shirts and beards of the guys playing, if I had to guess, I’d say the bikes I saw outside belonged to those two. A few more guys sat at a table with a pitcher of beer between them, staring up at some college basketball game on the big screen over the bar. A waitress stood next to the table, her tray tucked under one arm as she watched the game with them.

  I took a few more steps inside. The place was exactly what it looked like from the outside—a local dive. It was all dark wood, comfortably worn tables and chairs, a floor that your shoes stuck to just a little and a long mahogany bar with mismatched barstools. The only thing new in the place was the television. Figures.

  “Katelyn?”

  I froze as Hunter’s voice drifted to me from across the room and then fought the urge to run. But really, where would I go? I had no car and I was pretty certain my friend the cab driver wouldn’t be in a hurry to come get me.

  “Katelyn, is that you?”

  I sucked in a deep breath and turned my attention to the spot the voice came from. And there he was. Hunter Lawson. My brother’s best friend. The guy my mom told me over and over again was bad news for a girl like me. The guy I’d harbored a secret crush on from the moment I laid eyes on him when I was all of eleven-years-old.

  My throat went dry, but I couldn’t resist a small smile. I had to give my eleven-year-old self some credit. She sure knew how to pick ‘em.

  Hunter stood behind the bar, arms braced on its worn top as if he might launch himself over it at any moment. His dark hair dipped over his eyes, much longer now than the last time I’d seen him. And his piercing eyes, so dark they almost looked black, locked onto me.

  Without any real thought, my feet carried me forward, straight to him. My heartbeat picked up speed and something warm unfurled in my chest. Until right this moment, I don’t think I’d realized just how much I’d missed him.

  I grinned as I reached the bar directly across from where he stood.

  “Hi.” The single word came out on a breath, making me sound like a call girl from soft-core porn.

  His brows pulled together, his gaze still intense. His mouth stayed in a firm, almost grim line, making the smile fall from my face.

  “What are you doing here? Are you in trouble?” Hunter asked.

  “Trouble?” I shook my head. I had lost all sense of reality when I made the split second decision to come looking for him, but I don’t think that constituted trouble. “No. No trouble.”

  “Logan?”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “Logan’s fine. My mom just spoke to him over New Year’s.”

  He straightened up from the bar. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. My eyes might have lingered there for a moment, but really I couldn’t be held responsible. The black, long sleeve t-shirt he wore stretched tightly over his pectoral muscles. I don’t think he’d filled out his shirts quite so well a few years ago. I would definitely have remembered that.

  “Katelyn.” His voice came sharp and exasperated.

  I lifted my eyes to meet his. Oops, busted.

  “Are you lost?”

  Quite possibly. Not physically, but mentally…let’s just say I wasn’t going to place any bets on my current psychological state being one hundred percent rational. Why the heck else would I have come to see him on a whim?

  But I was here now. And the man of my dreams stood in front of me. I took a train almost an hour from the city just to see him. You’d have thought I’d have spent some of that time coming up with a plan for once I got here. Heck, it hadn’t even occurred to me that he might not be here when I arrived.

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at my own stupidity. But then I thought of what drove me here in the first place.

  “I came here to see you. I’ve missed you and…I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about you lately and when I left work this afternoon, I hopped on a train and came to see you.” How could I explain why I missed him and felt compelled to come here? Blurting out my undying love seemed like a big step for my first foray into going after what I wanted. So I settled for a shrug and a lame finish to my explanation. “And so I’m here. To see you.”

  I peered up at him, at once afraid and hopeful of his reaction. If I wasn’t mistaken, the expression that flickered on his face was extreme surprise. But in a blink he shut it down, his expression blank, and I had no hope of figuring out what went on behind his dark eyes. All I could do was wait for him to say something, anything, before I melted into a puddle of mortification on the floor at his feet.

  But before Hunter got a word out, a snort came from a few seats down the bar. I whipped my head around to find an older man sitting a few feet away, chuckling into the mug of beer he tipped up to his mouth. A quick glance told me there was no one else close enough for him to be aiming his derisive snort at, so it must be me and my feeble attempt at an explanation.

  When he caught me looking at him, the old guy grinned.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did you say something?”

  “Who me?” He shook his head, now chuckling. “Nope. Just listening.”

  “You’re listening to my conversation?”

  “Yup.” He took a deep sip of his beer and then turned and grinned at me again. “Don’t get too much drama in here outside of the occasional fistfight over a football game. Figure you being here means I’m in for some real entertainment.”

  My jaw dropped. I wanted to tell him to mind his own business. But let’s face it. Only a couple of hours into my not-so-nice girl way of doing things, I probably wasn’t going to tell off some strange guy in a biker bar. “Um, well, maybe you wouldn’t mind finding your entertainment elsewhere? I intended this to be a private conversation.”

  “Want a private conversation, you ask a man to go someplace private. You start yammering to a man where anyone sitting at the bar can hear, all bets are off, lady.”

  I moved my gaze toward Hunter, but found no help there. He just stared at me, a look I couldn’t decipher in his eyes. I rolled my eyes heavenward. Seriously? Was I being tested?

  I inhaled sharply and blew out the breath before I turned my attention back to Hunter. His total lack of response to my declaration probably wasn’t a good sign.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” I sank my teeth into my bottom lip the minute the words passed my lips. Damn it. There I go being nice again, worried that it wasn’t a good time for him despite the fact I’d just hauled my cookies all the way up from the city to see him.

  Hunter’s dark eyes narrowed. “I want the real reason you’re here, Katelyn. I think the few sentences you said to me since you walked in the bar are more words than you’ve spoken to me in all the years we lived next door to each other. So excuse me if I’m not buying this whole missing me shit.”

  I opened my mouth, ready to spew my outrage at his accusation, but snapped it closed again. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly for an instant, completely embarrassed at being called out. He was right.

  I liked to blame it on my parents’ disapproval, but the truth was my parents gave me a good excuse not to talk to him. I didn’t have to put myself out there and get my teenage heart crushed. Not to mention I’d always gotten painfully tongue-tied anytime he got within ten yards of me.

  “You ask me, she came here to do some slumming,” the guy at the bar offered.


  “Excuse me.” I plunked my hands on my hips and turned toward the man. I didn’t care if he was some big, burly old biker dude. “Nobody did ask you. And now I’m telling you, mind your business.”

  “Lady, like I said, you do this in public—”

  “I heard you. And let’s just agree to disagree. And you can see your way out of this conversation.” My voice might have jumped several octaves by the time I finished. And I knew if looks could kill, the man in front of me would be as crispy as a piece of burnt bacon by now. But I’d be damned if he’d talk about Hunter like that. Any woman would be lucky to be with him. “Slumming, my ass.”

  That last came out of me on a mumble not really intended for anyone’s ears, but I guess it made it to Hunter. His stance didn’t really change, but something about him relaxed. I couldn’t precisely put my finger on what it was, but his gaze didn’t seem to bore into me. And his mouth wasn’t stretched in such a grim line. Though he still wasn’t exactly welcoming me with open arms.

  “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with Logan?” Hunter asked, his voice slightly gruff.

  I gave him a gentle smile and shook my head. I had a feeling Hunter worried about my brother while he was deployed every bit as much as I did. “No, I heard from him myself over Christmas, and it sounds like he’s hanging in there.”

  He nodded. “Good. So you just happened to be in the neighborhood…?”

  “Uh, no. I just happened to be at my office when I started thinking about you. So then I happened to hop on a train and then get in a cab to just happen to run into you here. Where I knew you worked.”

  Wow. Had I just blurted all that out? I blinked. Well, that was why I came, wasn’t it? To finally show him how I felt. To stop following everyone else’s rules and start following my own dang heart?

  Hunter relaxed and leaned over the bar toward me. “Look, babe…”

  At his endearment, something inside me turned all soft and melty. Then he had to go and ruin it by continuing to speak.

  “…if you’re not going to tell me what this is really about, I’ll give you a ride back to the train station.”

 

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