by Jami Wagner
I pull the keys from my purse but pause mid-step when I see the large silver and shiny Toyota Tundra parked next to my tiny, white Ford Focus. The truck still has new plates and makes my car look like it’s owned by a homeless person. God, even his truck is gorgeous.
I’m so totally screwed. I shouldn’t be stunned into silence or struck in awe by Ethan or any other man. Men suck. Always have and always will.
Ethan
This is going to be one hell of a year.
I sit in one of the old torn chairs in front of Sara’s desk, resting my hands behind my head as I wait for her. The chair squeaks when it leans back, and it goes far enough to make me think it’s going to tip over. I sit up straight and pull my thoughts together.
I’m here to manage this place while Sara is away as a favor to my uncle, but mostly to get my father off my back. I’m not like him or my brothers. I can’t manipulate people to get things I don’t deserve. Like this bar, for example. If it weren’t for the fact I’m sick of my father telling me how ungrateful I am and a pathetic man, I wouldn’t be here secretly helping him sabotage his way into owning this place. Most normal guys my age would tell their dads to “fuck off,” but not me. Family is important, and as shitty as they are some days, they’re the only family I have. And that reason alone is why I’m here.
My mindset walking into this was “get in, get out in less than two weeks.” Sara needs someone for almost a year, but the sooner my dad is happy, the sooner I don’t have to listen to him anymore. But now, I might take a little longer. I wasn’t expecting to walk in and find a certain slender and still beautiful brunette standing behind the counter.
Kelsey Brian.
One look from her and I forgot everything.
All she did was stand behind the counter, staring at me, and I already know there’s no way I’m going to stop thinking about her. Hell, I don’t think I ever have. Those big, golden eyes practically undressing me the minute I walked in the door. Her full, pink lips falling slightly apart as I walked closer. She smelled like Red Hots, the cinnamon candy, and my body had responded immediately.
I never could forget that girl. I wanted her so badly every summer I came here, to Wind Valley. That last time I was here, I had to beg my father to let me go. I had to have one last chance with her. When she found me during Sara’s barbeque and pulled me to a hidden spot, I knew this was it. I was going to get exactly what I wanted. I was finally going to kiss her.
Then I ruined it.
My cell buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from my father.
DON’T LET ME DOWN
I read the message twice, remembering the last thing he said to me before I came here. You better turn that heart to stone before you give the Connelly name a poor reputation. My father’s words are branded into my brain.
Fuck. As much as I hate it, I better repeat that every day. Kelsey’s hot, but getting my dad off my back is more important right now than any woman.
Sara closes the door behind her and sits on the other side of her large desk. She doesn’t say anything as she sorts through the papers in front of her, probably trying to find the one she needs. There are papers covering every inch of the wooden surface, and my need to always have things in order is trying to push its way out. I stand quickly and move to a bookshelf, picking up random pictures to keep my hands busy before I start to clean off her desk for her.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
“Mmm hmm, everything’s good.” I glance down at her surroundings. Fuck, this office is a mess.
Sara smiles before finally clearing off a spot and setting a stack of papers on the open area. “These are for you. I need you to fill them out before we get started,” she instructs, gesturing to the stack. “Thanks again for helping out. Our fathers couldn’t have picked a better time to make up.”
They haven’t actually made up, but she doesn’t need to know that. It is all an act my father put on to get me into this spot. Deep down, I know my father should be mad at my grandfather for leaving everything to Sara’s father, but without my grandpa here to defend himself, my dad is taking it out on my uncle. And he’s doing that by sending me here to find a few account numbers that he can use.
My grandfather’s will said the bar belonged to my uncle. But there’s also a clause that says if the day comes where money is misused in any form, the bar will then transfer to my father. Hence, my dad wants the account numbers to move money that isn’t his into accounts that personally belong to my uncle.
“That will happen with stubborn old men,” I say instead of the truth, returning to my seat across from her.
“What’s it been…six or seven years since I last saw you?”
It’s been seven, but if she can’t remember, neither can I.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Sara begins organizing her desk a little and I start filling out the paperwork. My mind is on autopilot as I fill in the blanks and I finish in record time. Once I’m done with that, I follow my cousin out of the office. The bar top that Kelsey was standing behind is a large L shape that takes up two walls, but there isn’t anyone standing behind it now.
“It doesn’t look like much during the day, but when it’s filled with people at night, it’s my favorite place to be.” Sara points to the corner. “We have a stage, but it’s been weeks since there was a band on it. I’m working on a schedule for it now, but I’m waiting for a few phone calls.” She spins, pointing to the corner by the front with the pool tables. “For now we use the jukebox for music.”
I nod my head as she carries on about a couple more things.
This place is a lot cooler than I expected it to be. The space is in great shape and looks well taken care of. They don’t have very many tables, but it works because they are more of an “enjoy the beer” place, not an “enjoy the food” place. The walls are blue, but you can hardly tell that with all the banners and neon signs. I’m actually excited that this is where I will hang out. It has a welcoming feel, and it’s easy to see why business is good.
Sara’s still talking when I glance at her. She moves around at ease with a smile. She doesn’t notice me while she talks, so I survey the rest of the room.
It’s obvious she and I are the only ones here now. Good. I need to ask her if she needs anything else from me because I have an appointment with the Realtor to pick up the keys for the house I’m leasing. It takes me a minute to realize Sara isn’t talking anymore. She’s watching me when it clicks.
“What’s with the smile?” I ask. She instantly blushes and her posture straightens.
“What smile?”
“The one on your face that screams, ‘I’m up to something.’ You wore that smile a lot when we were kids. I know it better than you think.”
“I’m not up to anything, Ethan,” she says with a straight face then walks behind the bar. Slowly that sneaky smile reappears, and I can tell she’s trying to hide it. For whatever reason, she doesn’t want to tell me and that’s fine. I’m not here to build a relationship. Not with her anyway.
“Thanks again for hiring me.”
“Oh yeah, no problem. It was you or Kelsey, and, well…” She looks up again, still smiling. “She needs a little help with the whole staying-on-schedule thing. I think hiring someone else to be her manager might motivate her to take that next step.”
Ahhh. I’m catching on now. I don’t think having a different manager is going to motivate her. It’s who her new manager is that will motive her. Women—they’re not as sneaky as they think they are. But heck, I’ll play along. If it means more time with Kelsey, I’ll do whatever my cousin wants me to.
Whoa.
Where did that come from? More time with Kelsey is the last thing I need.
“Come back tomorrow at three. You can follow one of the bartenders around for a bit to get the flow of things,” Sara says before a tall man and a woman with firecracker-red hair wearing black shirts with the bar’s logo on them approach from a
back room. The guy unlocks the front door and a gray-haired couple walk in. The elderly love arriving to places right at opening. I assume these two will be the only customers for at least another hour.
I nod on my way out, but Sara greets the old couple. She shares a laugh with them and even gives them each a polite hug. She looks happy here, and for a minute I feel guilty. I’m going to be the bad guy and help take it from her.
Right before I step through the exit, I hear her call my name. I turn to see her coming toward me with a smile. She wraps her arms around me, giving me a tight hug then steps away.
Yep, I’m the bad guy already.
Chapter Two
Kelsey
For the next five months, my parents will be touring France, Italy, and Germany. They’ve left me in charge of everything they own, and this is night one. I’ve already managed to lock myself out. Go me.
“You’re not seriously going to break in, are you?” Sara asks through the phone.
“What choice do I have, Sara? All my stuff is in their house, and my dad was very clear on his rules. Make sure the sprinkler system comes on each morning till the end of August, dust everything, cleaning includes bathrooms, and don’t drive the cars. That’s just the small list. For all I know, he could have a camera set up to make sure I do as he instructed.”
Without a key, breaking in is the only way to go. He didn’t say don’t break anything or break into anything, but those are probably basic rules. Still, he never actually said it.
“This sucks. I’m gone in less than four weeks, and you’re not even going to be staying in our apartment until I leave. You could come home and crash here for just one more night. Then we can call the locksmith in the morning.”
I shake my head, refusing her offer even though she can’t see me. Sara’s suggestion is good, but it’s not going to work. Not right now. Not when my computer is inside this house and my fingers are itching to get some writing in before I go to bed.
I’m sitting alone in my car in my parents’ driveway. It’s in a new neighborhood just east of town, and they picked a fully beige house. I call it “The Palace of Beige.” Everything is that boring ass color—the house, the trim, the doors. Everything. It has a three-floor layout with five bedrooms, each with their own bath; a movie room; and a four-car garage. They have two kids who no longer live at home and four cars. What a waste of money.
“That defeats the whole purpose of housesitting, Sara.” I move my cellphone to my left ear and hold it in place with my shoulder as I turn off my car. The wind is intense tonight, and my car moves in a wave like motion with each gust. Thankfully, it stopped raining so I can see a little better, but it’s almost midnight and everything is pitch black. Add the fact I forgot to leave the front porch light on and the fact the subdivision has a lot of houses still in the building phase and it makes this whole situation creepy. I’ve watched too many movies of what can go wrong in a construction zone.
“Okay, so what are you going to do? Throw a rock through the window, crawl inside, and then claim someone broke in while you were watching their house? I guarantee they won’t give you the money they offered. In fact, I bet they would make you replace it with your own cash. You should totally rethink whatever plan you have devised in your head.”
Lose out on five grand for five months of housesitting? Easiest money ever. I need it so I can start a career in self-publishing. I could buy a new window and still come out ahead.
“It’s my only option. I’ll call you when I’m inside.”
Sara’s voice raises a few pitches, but I end the call before I can hear what she says. I know she’s right that I should just wait till tomorrow, but writing is way more important than whatever window I’m about to bust.
I open my car door only to have it blown shut by the strong August wind the moment my left leg is out. Ouch! Only this stupid Wyoming wind would stick around for every day of the year. I push the door off my leg and jump out of the car in a hurry to avoid the same mistake. The wind again slams the door shut at the same time I firmly plant my feet into the ground to keep from blowing away. My long, brown hair is blowing in all directions and it’s a battle between Mother Nature and my hand to keep it away from my eyes long enough to walk to the house.
Each step is like pulling a semi-truck behind me as I walk against the wind. I swear it feels like I’m not even moving. Thank goodness I went with blue jeans and a black hoodie tonight. Trying to keep a dress or skirt down in this mess would be pointless.
I finally make it to the front porch, pulling my smartphone from my back pocket to turn on the flashlight. I shine the light around the windows and over the deck in search of a hide-a-key. When I come up short, I catch sight of a curtain blowing freely inside the house. Yes! There must be a window open. I hold the flashlight against the window to pinpoint my next destination. Perfect, I should be able to climb through from the back porch.
I leap off the front steps, not making much distance when the wind pushes me backward. The ball of my foot catches the last step and I fall. I hit the steps just perfectly to pinch the skin on the back of my thigh, and a small scream passes my lips as I roll on the ground, grabbing the tender area and trying not to cry.
You had to remember one thing, Kelsey. The key. This whole mess could have been avoided had you remembered the key.
After allowing myself a minute to scold myself, I push off the ground and head for the back porch. I walk around to the left side of the house and come to a complete, firm stop, not giving the wind a chance to blow me down. What the — when did they do this? A fence. A stupid tall, white, keep-the-burglar-out-of-my-yard wooden fence. Right where I need to be. Okay. I get it. Lesson learned. I will never forget the key, or any key for that matter, ever again.
I force my way to the fence and sigh with relief when my fingers can reach the top. If I jump just a little, I should be able to pull myself over. Finally, someone is on my side.
I extend my arms as straight as I can get them, but they don’t get a good enough grip on the top of the fence when I jump. A few more tries later, it’s still not enough. I bend at the knee and swing my arms behind to give myself the extra oomph I need. The sound of an empty dumpster hitting the pavement startles me, and I quickly turn around.
“Who’s there?” I call out. I can’t see anything; it’s too dark. It was probably just a cat or the wind. Either way, that’s all the motivation I need to get over this fence. This time my effort is just good enough to haul myself over. Or — maybe not. My arms are stuck mid-pull, ready to give out. I should really start working out. This is just stupid. As I hang on the fence, I hear the sound of footsteps on the grass behind me. Instantly I have the strength I need and I pull myself halfway up. All I need to do it swing my legs over and it’s done.
Suddenly, my body goes stiff and I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing.
Someone is touching me.
Ethan
After finding every excuse I could to get out of dinner with my cousin – the less time with Kelsey around me, the better – all I wanted to do was get some sleep. Instead, I’m wide awake and irritated with my new neighbors.
I woke up when I heard a car door slamming and a light scream minutes after. This is not the way my first night in my first home should go. I’m no pansy, but it’s a good thing I own guns because if this shit goes down every night, then I damn sure better stay alert. I’ll be ready for whoever wants to break into my house.
I drag myself out of bed and down the stairs to look out the front window. There’s some chick across the street rolling around on the ground in front of my neighbor’s house. When she shifts, I can see that she has a flashlight in her hand. This is not normal behavior for most people.
I watch as she pushes herself up and rounds the house, coming to a stop. I can’t see her face because the wind is out of control, blowing her hair in all directions, and right before she turns toward my house, she pulls the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. She stand
s there for a minute, looking defeated.
Just when I think this bizarre mini-event is over the girl marches up to the fence, reaches her hand high, and then starts jumping. I don’t know the people in my neighborhood yet, but this isn’t a good sign.
I don’t waste any time as I slip my shoes on and run out the door. I’m wearing only a pair of black gym shorts, and this wind feels like ice against my skin. My goal is to sneak up on her, but after a huge gust of wind comes out of nowhere, I lose balance and bump into the dumpster. Sneaking is no longer an option. I run straight for the intruder and get there just in time.
She is half over the fence, dangling her upper body on one side and her legs on the other. My side. The legs also come with a very nice ass that’s hard to miss.
I wrap my hands around her ankle and pull her toward me. There’s no way I am letting her over this fence. Nice ass or not.
The eardrum-busting scream that comes out of her mouth is not what I’m expecting. I start to shake my head to get the ringing to stop at the same time she starts yelling. I can’t hear her very well because my ears are still recovering.
“Let me go!” she demands.
“No way! I’m not letting you over this fence,” I shout back.
Her body goes stiff and the screaming stops. I think I hear her whisper the word “no,” but I’m not sure. If she’s trying to talk me into letting her go, it’s not working. I use this moment to tug on her legs, attempting to pull her back over. Instantly she starts resisting, giving it her all as she tries to wiggle her way out of my grip.
“Just jump back down and we…”
Fuck!
The stinging pain of her foot making solid contact with my face distracts me and I lose my balance, again. My hand loosens its grip, and as I stumble backward, I grab her ankle to keep myself from falling. It doesn’t work and we both fall to the ground.
I grunt when she lands on top of my stomach, making it hard to breathe. She pulls herself together, quickly rolling off me and scrambling to her feet, but I’m faster. I grab her foot and yank her back until she is under me. With my legs on either side of her, my arms are straight as I hold her arms tightly against her sides to keep her pinned to the ground. She wiggles hard trying to escape.
