A Reason To Kill (Reason #2)

by C. P. Smith

  She could try to hide her sexuality behind those huge-ass men’s frames, but those damn lips of hers screamed, “Kiss me deep and make me moan.” Not to mention the fuckin’ punch to the gut he’d felt when she passed by in the back of Curly’s truck pissed him right the hell off.

  Ever since Kelly left, he’d avoided women who screamed high maintenance. He’d put up with Kelly longer than he should have, thought with time she might give up her dreams of a life in the city, but she didn’t. He’d learned from that mistake and avoided women who couldn’t hack the mountain life. And this one with her flowing black hair, fuck me body, and clumsy ways screamed it loud—she was a city girl through and through.

  He kept his life simple now, no entanglements with high-strung women who couldn’t kick back and enjoy the beauty of a sunset or the quiet of a mountaintop as an eagle soared high above. Besides, he was too busy for romance and had no inclination to look after the disaster Kelly turned out to be. He was thirty-three and too old for the bullshit Kelly had put him through. When she’d left for greener pastures or as she put it, “To live her life where something happened other than snow and darkness,” he’d read the note, thrown it in the trash and never looked back.

  That had been more than three years ago and he hadn’t tried to stop her when she left. People make choices in life and hers was to live life large and look down on those who wanted something simple out of life. He’d made the decision when he was a kid that he wanted to live here the rest of his life, woman or no woman at his side. It was in his blood, this town, his father’s business and no man or woman was gonna convince him to leave. So for now, his casual hookups when the need hit him or the need hit Annie, a waitress at Last Call Bar and Grill, suited him just fine. As for kids, he figured he had plenty of time to settle down.

  Men in his family tended to wait until they were older to get married. Like his father, who’d gone to the lower forty-eight at the age of thirty-eight and found his bride. She was feisty, strong-willed and a pain in his father’s ass from the moment he met her in Gunnison, Colorado. She’d made him work for it, but they’d been happy until the day he died. Then there was his cousin Jack, another example of waiting for the right woman to come along. He’d recently settled down at the age of forty and now had twin sons to carry on the family name. Yeah, Max figured he had plenty of time to worry about the future, time to find the right woman. For now, he’d keep his focus on his father’s business and keeping the town of Trails End employed.

  As he continued to follow Curly’s truck down Main Street, still watching that damn woman in the back, he was surprised when it turned into the only motel in town. He figured they’d head straight to their base camp, which was located a short distance from his logging operation. Max needed to stop at the post office before heading back, so he pulled in, told Buddy to stay in the truck and then got out and watched as they unloaded from Curly’s truck. The black haired beauty with the ridiculous glasses was getting out of the back when she saw him staring. For some reason, known only to her, she went out of her way to smile and wave at Max. Shaking his head slowly, though his lip did twitch a fraction at her display, he watched as her face fell in embarrassment when he didn’t wave back. Then he watched in disbelief as she turned too quickly and fell over a suitcase.

  Max took a half step forward when she landed and for the first time since he’d laid eyes on her, a moment of real worry for her safety crossed his mind. He didn’t know what idiot sent a woman like her to Alaska, but he hoped like hell that her colleagues kept a close eye on her. There was one thing he was certain of, felt in deep in his bones—that city girl was an accident waiting to happen.

  Two

  Uptown girl

  Last Call Bar and Grill, a dive bar by city standards, seemed like the place to be in a town like Trails End. With winter approaching and the coming months of darkness approaching faster, I figured most in town spent as much time outside as they could while they still had sunlight. However, once dark, evidently everyone headed to the only place in town with Karaoke, beer, pretty women and greasy fries.

  Last Call was awesome in that antique, well-used, and overly friendly sort of way. Log framed like the other businesses in town, there was a long turn-of-the-19th-century bar against the back wall with stools across the front. It had pine wood floors were dark and worn crowded with old tables and chairs that were full of flannel-clad, hard working men. The log walls, tucked with off-white chinking, were covered with old pictures and stuffed animal heads, and all of it set the mood of the bar— manly, rugged, Alaska.

  In my opinion, the best part of the decor was a picture of a mountain that was the focal point behind the bar. It captured the moment when the wind kicked up and sent snow swirling towards the sun as the sparkling ice crystals glistened in the warm rays. Another favorite, which hung near a poor moose’s head, showed a bear in a meadow as the sun slowly sets on the horizon, the gold of it backlighting the great beast. However, the picture that currently had my attention was of a particular logger strapped safely in a tree to keep from falling. He was large, gorgeous, and apparently hated my guts.

  I’d had one too many shots, thanks to Lucy, and was currently closing one eye and then the other back and forth as my head rested in my hand. I watched as the image of Paul Bunyan, the man who’d scowled at me, jumped back and forth in front of my eyes. Yep, no matter which eye caught the image it was still the same—perfection in flannel!

  Drink,” Lucy mumbled breaking my concentration from the brawny lumberjack.

  Turning to my Patron, I licked my hand between thumb and forefinger, sprinkled salt, licked it, downed the shot, and then sucked on a lime while the burn warmed my cold body. Lucy laughed as I gasped and then I threw my head back and laughed as the buzz took away the day.

  “Jesus, look at the size of some of these guys,” Lucy replied loudly over the Karaoke singer. I turned, cast my eyes around the bar, and saw a sea of well-built men wearing flannel. It was Friday night in Trails End and anyone under the age of seventy was at the bar to listen to those who were brave enough to sing their favorite songs. We weren’t heading up to our base camp until the next morning so Lucy decided we needed a night out to let loose. Since I was nervous about leading the field study Lucy easily convinced me to come out for one drink—that was three or was it four shots ago?

  Now I was happily feeling the effects.

  Head swimming, I looked around the bar until I saw Paul Bunyan sitting at the far end drinking a beer. He looked up, locked eyes with me for a brief moment, then being the geek that I am I lowered my eyes and looked away. After I’d made a fool out of myself in front of that gorgeous man, I’d decided my plan of attack where he was concerned was simple—evade and hide.

  I know, I’m pathetic, but I’d already made a fool out of myself once and on a good day, I’m awkward with men. And let’s face it, that is no ordinary man.

  Lucy giggled when another example of Alaskan male perfection approached our end of the bar. This wasn’t the first man to approach since we’d entered, but he was the most attractive one by far. Built like a logger with bulging arms and a broad chest, his best feature was his devilish smile. However, his brown eyes that were crowned with long lashes and seemed like they held secrets were a close second.

  “I’m Jake,” muscle bound man told us as he stuck out his hand.

  “I’m Lucy and this is Mia,” Lucy replied oh, so, cheerfully.

  “Are you ladies here with the research team headin’ up the mountain?”

  “Sure are. SIOZ sends a team up three times a year to collect data and change out cameras,” she informed him.

  “How long are you stayin’?”

  “We’re here until the job is done,” Lucy informed him with a breathy quality to her voice.

  “Excellent, then I insist you ladies come down from Grizzly Pointe while you’re here. I’d hate for such lovely ladies to be in our midst and not get to spend quality time with you.”

 
; Lucy beamed, excited by his request as she scanned his body. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that once we headed into the mountain range we wouldn’t see civilization until the end of the trip.

  As Lucy continued to flirt with Jake, I stupidly looked to the end of the bar where Paul Bunyan sat. I watched with no small amount of interest as a woman with blonde hair walked up, leaned in, and talked to him. She was pretty, well built, and wore her clothes tighter than I did, but you could definitely see why a man who looked like Paul would be with a woman who looked like her. Feeling like a voyeur, I started to turn my head, but not before I saw the blonde run her hand up and down his arm. Seeing that, I felt a twinge of jealousy at what they had. I’d dated, rather unsuccessfully, but my awkwardness and inexperience or just plain bad luck with men (Donald for example) kept my head in books and the sheets of my bed cold.

  I should have known better than to date my boss, it was cliché on so many levels. Nonetheless, my loneliness had won out over my practical side. Thankfully, I’d come to my senses and ended it, although that doesn’t stop him from trying to convince me at every turn to reconsider. Donald’s just too single-minded and full of himself for my tastes and he didn’t know how to have fun. However, his worst fault, the one that infuriated me the most, was that he never listened to my opinions or considered my point of view. He acted as if my views on nature and man living together in harmony were childish. He felt the only way to intervene when a species was in danger of extinction, was to eliminate man from the equation by forcing them out. So I’d said, “Screw that,” cut my losses, chalked it up to stupidity and then moved on.

  Still staring at Paul Bunyan, I wondered if he was arrogant, belittled women as stupid or just considered them all playthings for men. As I continued to stare, he looked my direction and held my eyes. Of course, in my semi-drunken state, I almost imagined his face gentled a bit instead of scowling as he had earlier.

  When Lucy laughed suddenly, stealing my thoughts from hot lumberjacks, I looked up and watched as Jake turned his head and shouted across the bar “Ralph, another round for Mia and Lucy.”

  Here’s the thing about what happened next, I’ve been out of college a few years and wasn’t one to party when I was there, so I didn’t have a vast knowledge in all things alcohol related. That being said, I’m pretty sure I’d remember seeing a standing body shot.

  After Ralph, a man in his fifties with a cool as hell mustache that curled at the ends like a prospector from the 1890’s, brought our round of shots, I watched in fascination as Lucy and Jake took body shots off of each other. Jake, with his devilish smile in place, lifted his shirt as Lucy ran her hands over his abs. With a look of awe on her face, Lucy winked at me as she leaned in, ran her tongue up his chest, sprinkled salt, and then licked said salt off him slowly. Watching this, I felt my mouth drop open and my heart rate speed up as this apparent seduction played out in front of me. When Jake repeated the same moves on her neck, my mouth went dry, apparently I needed to get laid if body shots in a crowded bar were turning me on.

  However, turned on or not, when Jake turned to me with open arms, inviting me to do the same, I felt my head start shaking no.

  I was about to excuse myself for the safety of the ladies’ room when I heard a deep rumbling voice shout, “Jake.” My eyes turned towards the bellowing voice and caught Paul Bunyan crooking his finger, indicating he wanted to speak with Jake.

  I thought I’d been saved by bellowing Paul and had started to relax when the man himself, looking angry for some reason, headed our direction.

  “You want in on this, Max?” Jake asked as he walked up.

  Danger, Will Robinson, operation “Evade and Hide” commencing now!

  Max, as Jake had called him, was more intimidating up close and in person than from across the bar. He was angry that much was obvious. You could feel it rolling it off him in waves. I guess I’d managed to piss him off again, but in my buzzed state, I knew I couldn’t go toe to toe with him. So, needing to “evade and hide,” I turned my eyes from both men and looked for the nearest exit. As I was about to make a break for it, the man running the Karaoke machine tapped his microphone and asked, “Who’s next?” Therefore, without properly functioning brain cells, I stupidly shouted, “We are.”

  Without asking Lucy, I grabbed her hand and pulled her stumbling towards the stage. When we reached the steps, I shoved her up, holding on to her jeans for balance as she laughed. When we made it to center stage, I took the mic’ offered, turned towards the audience, and froze when I saw a roomful of eyes staring back at me. Lucy laughed, not caring we were in front of a bunch of strangers, then turned to the man operating the Karaoke machine and embarrassed me further.

  “My boss loves Billy Joel, plays him all the time at work.”

  Oh, dear lord!

  As we waited for a song to queue up, I peered around the room and saw men smiling back at us, but two women on the front row were frowning. The two overly busty women, with hair so bleached it was white, started whispering amongst themselves, pointing our direction, then one shouted, “Figures a lower forty-eight’er like her would like Billy Joel.”

  Figures a bimbo like you is a bimbo!

  “Lower forty-eight or not, Billy Joel is, and always will be, “The Piano Man,” I bit out since bimbo needed a lesson in all things Rock and Roll

  Before they could respond back, the opening “Ah’s” of “Uptown Girl” rang out and I closed my eyes. Now my humiliation was complete. Billy Joel was my favorite, had been since I was a child thanks to my parents, so I couldn’t help myself, one does not stand still when Billy Joel is rockin’ the house.

  Lucy started singing as Billy filled my ears then, thanks to the alcohol coursing through my system, I started bouncing to the beat and wiggling my ass. When I belted out my first words, I was in my “Joel Zone,” so I danced around the stage with Lucy and worked that crowd like a Vegas showgirl. And let me tell you I had a blast. The men in the room clapped to the beat, whistled loud, and catcalled when I turned my back to the crowd singing over my shoulder. When the song was over, I threw my head back and laughed as the men erupted into applause. One elderly man handed me a beer so I took it and toasted the old-timer for his generosity. Hot and thirsty I tilted my head back and took a long, deep pull from the ice-cold bottle. A chorus of “More, more,” rang out as finished downing the beer, the room spinning faster with the additional drink.

  Regrettably, I wasn’t paying attention to Lucy since I was laughing with the old men who’d approached the stage. When a new song came on, I ignored it. That is until I heard Lucy speak into the microphone. When she shouted my name, I turned and watched as she pointed to the screen. Feeling great, still in my “Joel Zone,” I shrugged “why not” and pushed up my glasses to look at the song.

  When I read the title, I hesitated. Adele’s “Someone Like You” was a poignant song full of emotions I’d never experienced, but often wondered about. I knew Adele wrote most of her songs from personal experience, experiences I’d yet to have, but wanted.

  “Sing it little lady,” shouted an old man with a big belly and silver hair.

  Uncertain as to why I was hesitating, I cleared my throat, turned to the karaoke monitor, and jumped in on the second line while rolling my eyes at Lucy. I belted out the words as best I could and then walked over to my intern and pulled her to center stage. Lucy shook her head and backed away as I continued to sing, putting as much feeling into Adele’s words as I could muster.

  When that mouth, the one that had occupied the last hour of his fantasies opened, and started singing, Max’s lip twitched for the second time that day. He scanned her body puzzled by her attire. Her black locks were up in a high ponytail and she wore a T-shirt with a fuckin’ Care Bear on the front that read, “Cuddle me.” She had on loose fitting khaki pants a man would wear, rolled up at the cuff and sneakers on her feet. She looked ridiculous, nothing like he thought she would, he’d figured her for designer jeans and fancy tops
. But this quirky look, like she didn’t give a shit what she wore confused him and intrigued him even more. He’d watched her down shots and laugh like she didn’t have a care in the world. He’d been surprised by her behavior, would have bet money a woman like her wouldn’t set foot in a dive bar like this, let alone done shots like a college student.

  Max took all that in but still held his ground. Laid back or not she was still troubled, he could feel it in the depths of his bones. Yet, every time her head tilted back and she laughed that husky laugh of hers, he’d felt it in his cock.

  Christ, he hadn’t had a reaction to a woman like this in his life, Max thought. Not about to get tangled up with a woman like her, he’d decided he needed to finish his beer and get the fuck out of there before he did something stupid. Then Jake had hollered for more shots and he’d watched Ralph Potter, owner of Last Call, bring three more. Uneasy for some reason he’d stayed in his seat to keep an eye on the situation. Jake was a ladies’ man, always had been, and tonight was no different.

  Max kept watching as Lucy, the blonde he now knew from Jakes introduction, giggled, snagged a salt shaker, and pointed at Jake. His brows had shot straight up when Jake raised his shirt, wondering what the hell he was up to. Watching them closely Max reached for his beer, but the sip he was gonna take had stopped short of his mouth as he’d tilted his head and watched Lucy run her hands over Jake’s abs. With a smile, she’d leaned in, licked his chest, sprinkled salt, and then licked the salt off him slowly all while Jake watched with rapt attention. She’d thrown her shot back as Jake put a lime in his mouth and then she’d raised up on her toes kissing the lime from his mouth. Max chuckled when he finally took a pull from his beer, though he about choked on that sip when Jake repeated her moves and then turned to Mia, he now knew was the raven-haired beauty, with open arms.