Storm Damage (Big Sky Series Book 1)

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Storm Damage (Big Sky Series Book 1) Page 7

by CP Smith


  Six

  Draw A Line In The Sand

  JAMIE AND I watched from the corner of the bar as Logan hefted a case of beer like it weighed nothing and carried it to one of the coolers. I was in a awe of his strength, noting his arms barely strained at the weight. I knew this because I hadn’t peeled my eyes off of him since he’d returned from taking Josh to school.

  In the past I’d asked Jake to do the heavy lifting, but now I didn’t have to. I should have been pleased with the prospect of not involving my brother in the day-to-day operations of the bar, but I was still mad about Logan’s high-handedness at the police station. In theory, Logan was probably right about Ty and Josh, but I didn’t like being told what to do with my own family and bar. It was a small infraction in the grand scheme of things, even if he was right, but I knew I needed to nip it in the bud. Men like Logan dominated women at every opportunity, so I needed to stand my ground from the get-go. Be the boss. Draw a ‘my way or the highway’ line in the sand so he knew he couldn’t walk all over me.

  “Did he tell you anything about Josh?”

  I tore my eyes away from Logan’s butt—which filled out his jeans like they were made exclusively for him—and looked at Jamie. “He grumbled something about feeling guilty for no good reason.”

  “Guilty about what?”

  “Chance. Logan said Josh called a spade a spade, but he wouldn’t say anything more since he was told in confidence.”

  Jamie’s eyes clouded over for a moment, then she nodded. “I bet it had to do with the other day. Gail saw Josh in a heated discussion with your big brother. Said Josh looked smug when he walked away.”

  We didn’t see Chance in town that often, and when we did, we didn’t usually acknowledge him. The fact Josh had was a surprise. “You think he thinks it’s his fault Chance called in the loan?”

  She shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”

  I nodded in agreement. That would make complete sense to a fifteen-year-old.

  “Have you heard back from Matt at the bank?”

  I grabbed another bucket and filled it with salted peanuts still in their shell. We opened at noon, and with everything that happened that morning, I was running behind.

  “He said he would call around to Bozeman and Billings, but it would take a few days.”

  “Did he give you a sense that he could make it happen?”

  Fear tried to grab hold, but I pushed it down. I was done being afraid. Fear wouldn’t keep my family together. “He said he was certain we could get a loan, but he wasn’t sure if it would be for the full amount.”

  She paused wiping down a tabletop and looked up. “How much did Matt think you could borrow?”

  “About half because of my lack of credit.”

  She slumped into a chair and blew her hair out of her eyes. “I don’t understand how a private citizen can buy your loan. Aren’t there rules or something? He isn’t a financial institution, and you didn’t sign anything saying you would pay him back. Maybe you could take him to court? Say he paid the loan off as a gift.”

  Just thinking about it revved up my anxiety, so I forced it down with a deep breath and shook my head. “I asked Matt the same question. He says the loan states they can sell it at any time to another financial institution. That Chance had his attorney file paperwork months ago, so one of his companies passed as a financial institution in order to buy our loan. The bastard’s been ready to step in for months.”

  “But there have to be rules. He can’t just give you thirty days if it’s a thirty-year note.”

  “Probably, who knows how any of it works, but our problem is that it wasn’t a mortgage. They had two buyers at the time Dad bought the bar. To secure the sale quickly, Dad took out a line of credit. But when Dad got sick, everything changed.”

  The mere thought of losing everything caused a burst of adrenalin to dump through my system. I curled my fingers around the edge of the table while I tried to slow my heart rate. Needing to center myself on an object to control my fear, I glanced around until my eyes landed on Rocky, the moose behind the bar. I tried to focus on his eyes, but all I could think about was the day my dad had hung him. How we’d joked about putting Christmas ornaments on his antlers and tying a bow of garland around his neck. That bittersweet memory sped my heart up instead of slowing it so I darted my attention to the stage. My eyes traveled up to Edger and his stupid tasseled hat and I tried to focus on the muted colors. I unfocused my eyes until all I saw was a kaleidoscope of color, but that didn’t work either because I remembered my father wearing that stupid tasseled hat on his head while he hung Edger above the stage. I tore my eyes away, desperate to focus on anything that didn’t remind me of my father, and they landed on Logan. My heart rate began to calm within seconds as I remembered how he’d known exactly what to do to calm my fears that morning. How he’d come to my rescue on the highway. How he’d handled my brothers, and taken care of Josh as if he’d been doing it every day of his life.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  I gritted my teeth and nodded as my heart rate slowed further, not taking my eyes off Logan until I was in full control. I wouldn’t let this fear beat me. Not again. Never again. “It was only supposed to be temporary,” I answered, ignoring her concern, shoving off the table to keep moving and burn off some of the adrenalin, “but Dad got sick, so Matt looked the other way and extended the loan for another couple of years. We made monthly payments like a mortgage, but the principal was due at the end of each loan term. It’s up next month, but instead of applying for a new loan Matt agreed to extend the loan again since I was covering the payments.”

  “Then how can Chance call in the note if the term isn’t up?”

  I took a deep breath through my nose then let it out slowly; relieved I’d overcome another panic attack before answering her. “We hadn’t done the paperwork before Chance strong-armed them into selling him the loan under threat of pulling his money.”

  Jamie blinked. “You mean if his father had died a month later, you’d of had another year or two to come up with the principal? That’s awfully convenient, don’t you think?”

  I raised a brow. “What? The fact his father died just in time to buy our note so he could exact his revenge on my family.”

  Her face paled and her eyes grew huge. “Jesus, Skylar, that puts a whole new light on Chance . . . Do you think—”

  “Do I think he killed his already dying father, just so he could mete out his revenge before we renewed the loan?”

  She rolled her lips between her teeth and nodded slowly.

  “No!” I couldn’t help but laugh. “He would never kill his father just to punish us when he could just wait until the loan came due again.”

  Max came trotting over and leaned against my leg. I reached a hand down and ran it through his soft fur without thinking. My whole body relaxed further, and the remaining anxiety melted away when he began to lick my hand.

  “Will he be able to stay in the bar when it’s open?” Jamie asked, squatting to her haunches to rub Max behind his ears.

  “He’s a service dog,” a deep rumbling voice mumbled behind me. “He can’t be refused.” I would have jumped when Logan placed his hand on the small of my back, before leaning down to rub one of his large hands across Max’s head, but the warmth seeping through my hoodie felt nice. I pretended not to notice when he turned assessing eyes toward me as he leaned down. “Everything okay?”

  Eyes the color of the bluest ocean searched my face, leaving me rattled and embarrassingly breathless. “Um. Sure. Yes?” I wanted to knock myself in the head at the breathy sound of my voice.

  “You sure?”

  Jamie stood from petting Max, mumbling, “I need to check the stock,” before retreating to the back.

  Logan rose to his full height once we were alone and looked down at me until I had to tip my head back. He had to be close to six and a half feet tall. Most women would think twice about being left alone with a man his size, but I’d always b
een a good judge of character. Logan had an edge to him, but the core of him was kind. His years in Delta Force, and whatever atrocities he might have seen during the war, hadn’t stolen that fundamental part of him. Evidenced by the fact he stopped to check on us, sorted Josh out without being asked, and took a job he was wholly overqualified for because, and I was just guessing here, he liked my brothers and me enough to want to help out.

  My pulse quickened as his entire focus seemed to be centered on me while he waited for my answer. A girl could get used to having Logan’s undivided attention, but I was his boss now and I couldn’t allow my hormones to dictate our interactions. It was time to draw that line in the sand and lock down any attraction I might have for the man. It would only complicate things. Especially if it was one-sided. A man who looked like Logan could have his pick of women in this town, so why would he settle for a mess like me?

  “We need to talk about this morning,” I began.

  Logan cocked his head to the side, then leaned an arm on the tabletop. He hadn’t put any space between us, so I took a step back. It was time to be the boss.

  “What about this morning?”

  “I decide what’s best for this bar. Not you.”

  He seemed to puzzle over my statement before he responded, “Is this about Ty?”

  I nodded. “He’s not a threat to me. He’s possessive, yes. But no real threat. We grew up together, so there’s a part of him that will always feel like he has to take care of me. That’s where he’s coming from, even if he doesn’t realize it. He has a fundamental need to take care of everyone he knows. His heart is in the right place, even if his actions are over-the-top. Once he sees that your presence means I’m safe, he’ll back off.”

  Logan regarded me for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “He’s gone the moment he steps out of line though. No second chances, Skylar, or the problem will continue.”

  I wanted to stand my ground, but I couldn’t argue with that. Ty had essentially played bouncer since I took over after my father became ill. Now that I had Logan, there was no need for him to be here every night keeping watch. “We’ll see how it goes. But I’ll be the one who decides if that time comes. Not you.”

  I expected him to argue, but his mouth twitched and his eyes brightened with humor. “You’re the boss.” I opened my mouth to retort that I sure the heck was, but he closed the distance between us with a single step, and my response stuck in my throat. “We’ll do it your way. For now.”

  I was positive I should have spit out, “We’ll be doing it my way all the time,” because that’s what drawing the line in the sand meant, but the words failed me when he leaned closer and raised his hand as if he were about to kiss me. My pulse began to race the closer he came, and I licked my lips as nervous energy shot through me. I should push him away. He’s my employee! My eyes began to close automatically in anticipation, but they shot wide open when Max barked and Logan reached past me without missing a beat; grabbing the bag of peanuts I’d been using to fill the buckets.

  “I’ll fill the rest,” he mumbled with a grin, turning to the next table. Heat ran up my neck and settled in my cheeks. I was an idiot. He wasn’t about to kiss me, he wanted to finish setting up.

  I was so caught off guard by my own stupidity I managed to stumble over Max—while I tried to escape out of sheer humiliation—and landed on my ass.

  Logan swung around when Max yipped and raised a brow at the two of us.

  There was no escaping now. Not from my humiliation or misguided thoughts, so I pulled Max into my lap and showered him with love. “I’m keeping Max when you leave.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mmhmm. You can take off for wherever you were headed, but Max is staying here with me.”

  Logan squatted down in front of me, grinning from ear to ear. “Guess I’m staying put then.”

  “That’s okay. You can leave. We’ll send you pictures from time to time.” I decided to avoid his direct line of sight until the flush disappeared by burying my face in Max’s neck.

  “We’re kind of a matched set.”

  His voice sounded too close—so I whipped my head up—and cracked Logan in the nose with my forehead. I gasped at the pain exploding through my head, and he grumbled, “Fuck,” grabbing his nose as blood began to drip.

  “Oh, my God!” I pushed off the floor and ran to the bar for a towel and ice.

  He was standing when I returned, so I shoved him into a chair and tilted his head back. “We need to keep pressure on it.”

  “I’ll have you know, I’ve survived four tours of duty and hundreds of covert operations,” he grumbled, pulling the towel from my hand. “I’ve protected the president and senators. Been shot at. Bombed. Baked in the desert. Frozen in the fucking mountains. And not once in all that time has anyone broken my fucking nose.”

  “You snuck up on me,” I squeaked.

  He opened one eye and glared at me. “Right.”

  I grabbed the towel back and started to argue it was his fault for being so stealthy, but the front door swung open and half the town’s men began to pour inside. Normally I had a sprinkling of customers when we first opened, so I blinked at the crowd. Dozens of flannel shirts filled the room. Big, small, short, and tall. It seemed every man who ever knew my father decided to grab a beer at the same time.

  When the door slammed shut behind the crowd, they stopped dead in their tracks and took in the scene of me pressing ice to Logan’s nose. Moments ticked by before Ed Burk cleared his throat and ordered, “When you’re done kicking that boy’s ass, draw me a cold one, will ya?”

  The blue eye currently glaring at me closed on a muttered, “Fuck.”

  ____________

  “Is he still glaring at me?”

  I was currently topping off a draft of American beer for Gerry Sullivan, the town’s doctor, while keeping an eye on Logan. He was dragging in his gear from his truck to store in my office, where I had a small cot with a foam mattress for the nights when I closed and was too tired to drive home. It was the only bed I had for Logan, unless I invited him to sleep on the pull-out couch at our house. And that was a no-go. I didn’t know him well enough for one thing, and the other was my brothers. They would lose their minds if I brought a man home to live with us. Not to mention he was my bouncer and I needed him here until we closed. If we had trouble it was at night and on the weekends when ranch hands blew off steam, so he needed to bunk here.

  Gerry turned his bald head Logan’s direction and shrugged. “Kinda hard to tell with that one. He has a resting scowl or, as my daughter likes to call it, a resting bitch face.”

  I peeked a glance while I handed Gerry his beer and caught Logan talking to Jamie. She was laughing at something he said, and he grinned in return. Then she looked around the bar and leaned in to whisper in his ear, which made him smile wider. Something sour filled my stomach as I watched them. Jamie was the epitome of sex. Long legs, beautiful hair, sultry dark eyes that turned heads wherever she went. And from the look of how comfortable they were conversing; Logan was a fan, just like all the rest of the men who entered the bar. Yes, I was an idiot. I’d imagined it all. The spark of lust I felt when Logan had crowded me in the police station must have been one-sided. I’d let my imagination run wild for the first time since college, thinking he reciprocated. I flushed at the thought of how breathy my voice had gone and turned my head to hide my reaction. Of course, he would find Jamie more attractive. They were made for each other when you thought about. He was the male version of her. Sexy. Manly . . . perfect.

  I groaned in spite of myself. Now his grin made sense when I thought he was going to kiss me. He probably thought it was cute I had the hots for him and smiled to keep from hurting my feelings.

  I’m such an idiot.

  “You okay?” Gerry asked.

  My attention popped to his, then I scanned the room to avoid eye contact. Every stool was occupied. Half the tables were full. And every occupant’s attention at the bar was fo
cused on me. All of them were former friends of my father.

  “Don’t any of you have to work?” My tone was harsher than I meant it to be.

  Ed Burk, a rancher, lifted his glass to his mouth and ignored me. Dusty Banks, another rancher, winked. Gordon Andrews, a local artist, grinned. Gerry shrugged and took a deep pull from his draft, and the remaining man, Duke Remington, just chuckled and lifted his beer as well.

  “Aren’t you on duty?” I questioned Duke. “You said you had stuff to do and fish to catch.”

  He grabbed a peanut from the bowl in front of him and cracked the shell. “I dug around like I needed to, and now I’m waiting for the results. Once I get them, I’ll hit the road.”

  Jamie burst out laughing, and I turned to watch her walking away from Logan who was now checking on customers seated at the tables. She waved at me before calling out, “I’m heading home to get more sleep. Call David to come in and help you since it’s busy. I’ll see you tonight.”

  A part of me didn’t want to answer her out of petty jealousy, but it wasn’t her fault men found her so appealing. She was the truest of friends and had no way of knowing I’d managed to lust after my new employee. Neither were at fault for their attraction to the other. I knew better than anyone you couldn’t help who you loved and didn’t love. If it were simple, I’d be married to Ty by now instead of spending time with a vibrator named Francesco.

  Swallowing back my disappointment and pride, I smiled, waving at her before she disappeared through the door. I started to turn to the backbar to add Duke’s beer to his tab but had to sidestep when Max leaned against my leg. Reaching down, I scratched him behind the ear then knelt and giggled while he licked my nose. Max hadn’t strayed far from me since he’d entered the bar.

  I sighed. At least one of the Storm men found me appealing.

  “Is that a dog?” Gordon asked, peeking over the edge of the bar.

  “Nope. He’s my new boyfriend.”

  “Does that mean I can have the other one?” a voice purred from the end of the bar.

 

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