Unbearable (The Port Fare Series)

by Sherry Gammon

  I stood on the mat next to the door once we went inside, not wanting to track snow into the kitchen. Seth sat on a bench and removed his boots. “I’ll get Tess,” he said, rubbing his hands together again while walking into the kitchen. Maggie made her way down the stairs, meeting Seth halfway.

  “Book’s here,” he said, slipping his arms around her waist.

  “Tess is on her way,” Maggie said, leaning in to kiss him, only he had other plans. He slipped his freezing cold hands up the back of her shirt. She squealed, pushed him back, and ran down the stairs to the sink. “You do that again and I’ll use the squirter thingy on you.” She pulled the side spray out and aimed it at him. “Fine, but hot water, please,” Seth insisted. “I’m freezing.”

  Tess came down the stairs, interrupting the show. “Sorry, Booker. I’m still on California time, I’m afraid.” She hurried over to the fridge and removed a paper sack, her lunch I assumed, and rushed toward me.

  “Garfield, I didn’t see you.” Maggie waved at me from the sink, the side spray still in her hand.

  “Mornin’, Prego. How you feeling?” I helped Tess on with her coat as Seth quietly crept toward Magpie.

  “Great. No more nausea. And the exhaustion’s pass—”

  “Maggie, over your right shoulder,” Tess warned Mags of her encroaching hubby. Maggie, with notoriously poor aim, sprayed toward Seth, missing him completely.

  “Hurry. Let’s get out of here before we get wet.” I grabbed Tess’s hand and we darted out the door. Once inside the truck, I cranked up the heater.

  “Those two are cute together. They’re so happy,” Tess said wistfully.

  “They’re perfect for each other. As are Lilah and Cole.”

  “I love Lilah.” Tess laughed softly, no doubt at some crazy memory involving Lilah. It warmed my heart to see her happy.

  “I thought the truck was for when we had deep snow. There’s only six inches on the ground. Spent too much time in sunny Cali, Gatto. You’re getting soft,” she teased. I loved it when she called me by my last name.

  “The heater’s going out in my car.”

  “We can drive mine.” She pointed to the rusty Honda covered in snow as we drove away.

  “No thanks. I want to make sure we get to the office in one piece.”

  “Rude.” Tess playfully pushed my arm.

  “Honestly, I’ve had two people over the past week comment that I must not be a very good lawyer if I have to drive the POC. Enough procrastinating. I’m going to have to get a new car.” I shook my head dramatically adding, “I’m going to miss the old POC mobile.”

  “Just breathe. It will be okay,” she assured me. After a few silent moments she asked quietly, “So, any news on . . .”

  “No. Not yet.” I took her cold hand in mine. “We’ll get him,” I assured her. She said nothing else about him.

  She jogged from the truck into the office building, and we took the elevator to our floor. “It’s freezing in the office, too,” she groaned, making a swooshing sound as she rubbed her hands over her down coat.

  I tapped on the thermostat. Fifty-two degrees. I twisted the dial but the furnace didn’t turn on.

  “Maybe you should call the owner,” she grumbled. “Tell the cheapskate to fix the elevator, too.”

  “Hey,” I said, crossing over to her. I wrapped her up in my arms. “I resemble that remark.” I kissed the tip of her frozen nose. “And what’s wrong with the elevator?” I seldom used it. Like she said, too creaky and slow.

  “Are you kidding me? My grandma can walk up the stairs faster than that thing moves, and she’s been dead for ten years.” She snuggled in closer. “It also has more creaks and groans than my grandmother did. It doesn’t sound very safe.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Not that bad? Did you not pay attention while we were riding up it just now?”

  “Nope. I was lost in those beautiful blue eyes of yours.”

  “You are a charmer, Booker Gatto.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

  “I’ll call a repairman.” I started for the phone only she wouldn’t release me.

  “Warm me up first,” she said, wagging her eyebrows.

  “Whatever it takes to keep my renters happy.” I dropped my mouth to hers.

  An annoying shoe tapping and a female clearing her throat trashed a perfectly good fantasy. I pulled back and turned to the tapping. Nikkolynn.

  “Yes?” I said as Tess went to her desk and turned on her computer, zipping her coat higher.

  “I need to talk to you, away from Terese’s ears.” Nik pointed to my office and strutted past me.

  “Why does she call you by your full name?” I asked Tess.

  “Probably hoping to intimidate me. Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand in the air.

  I scrubbed my jaw and followed the two-timing liar into my office. She started to close the door, but I stopped her. No way was I allowing Tess out of my sight, not until Garen was found.

  “This is personal,” Nik pressed.

  “Sorry. You’ll have to talk quietly, then.” I folded my arms and sat on the corner of my desk with Tess firmly in view and signaled for Nik to continue.

  “Bookie,” she said stepping directly in front of me and walking her hand up my arm. “I know I’ve done some pretty lousy things to you—”

  “Ya’ think?”

  She continued, undaunted by my sour expression. “I am really sorry. I’m here to beg for your forgiveness and to ask that you please give me another chance. We were good together, Bookie. You know that. Besides, I’ll bet I’m more exciting than her.” With a jerk of her chin, she pointed at Tess, who busily typed away.

  “Nikkolynn, Tess is not the reason I won’t take you back.” I stood and paced across the room. “I can’t trust you. It’s that simple. And whether I’m dating her, or anyone else for that matter, has nothing to do with it. If Tess were to dump me tomorrow,” heaven forbid, “I wouldn’t take you back. If a relationship doesn’t have trust, it has nothing.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing, Nikkolynn. I will not take you back. I forgive you for cheating on me and for using me, but I’m sorry, we’re through.”

  She stood there, tears wetting her makeup covered cheeks. I stepped next to her and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, brotherly like. “Nik, I thought you were going to that fashion school in New York.” I patted her back.

  “It doesn’t start until spring. But it doesn’t matter. I can’t afford the tuition since no one will hire me thanks to my record.” She pulled away and reached for a tissue on my desk, which she used to dry her cheeks and blow her nose.

  I went to my desk and pulled out my checkbook. “How much is the tuition?” I asked.

  “$22,000,” she said with a sniffle. I wrote her a check and handed it to her. She looked at it then at me. “This is for a lot more than tuition.”

  “I added money for room and board.” She tried hugging me, but I stepped back. “Start your life over, Nik. Do well at school and put your past behind you.”

  “I will, promise. Thank you.” She headed out the door, then stopped and angled back to me. “I’ll always love you.” She said it loud enough that Tess glanced up from her computer.

  “Good luck, Nikkolynn,” I said. Her lower lip trembled as she left.

  “Tess, will you bring me the building file?” I wheeled around toward my desk. “I need to call the furnace guy before we freeze to death.” I was tackled from behind before I reached my desk.

  “You are a real sweetheart, you know that, right?” Tess’s arms were around my shoulders, squeezing me tight, her cheek resting on my shoulder.

  “Once again, you’re putting me on a pedestal when I don’t deserve it.” I twisted around in her arms. “I gave her the money so she’d leave town.”

  “Whatever,” she said, kissing my neck with her icy cold lips, chasing a shiver up my spine. “I’d like to think that was because of my sensual kisses
, but it’s probably from my cold lips.”

  “Maybe both,” I said diplomatically.

  “I’ll get the file.” She pulled away. I missed her already, cold lips and all.

  I called the manager at Port Fare Heating and they sent a repairman out immediately. He went to the furnace room on the main floor and returned to my office ten minutes later.

  “Hello,” I glanced at the name tag sewn on his shirt, “Hank, what did you find?”

  “Do you want the good news or the bad,” he asked, glancing at Tess and winking.

  “Just tell me what’s wrong,” I said, and keep your eyes off my girl.

  “The entire unit for this floor is bad and will need to be replaced. The good news is it’s under warranty so won’t cost you a thing.” He glanced again at Tess, who kept her eyes glued to her laptop. “The bad news is the unit’s in Buffalo and with this weather it’s going to take me several hours to get it.”

  “The snow’s melting.” I pointed out the window. “It’s up to forty-two degrees already.”

  “A virtual heat wave,” Tess mumbled under her breath.

  “But like I said, the replacement unit is in Buffalo, and it’s still snowing over there,” he pointed out. “I can have it in by tonight so you’ll have heat tomorrow. That’s the best I can do.”

  “Fine. Thanks,” I grumbled.

  He handed me an invoice. “Do you really own this entire building?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “My aunt works at that diner across the road.” He pointed out the window at Shelly’s Café, a diner I’d eaten at a few times. Lousy food. Lousy service. “She’s seen you driving down the road in a beat-up piece of crap car and said you must not be a very good lawyer.” He looked around. “I’m guessing you must have spent all your money on this building.” He left with another sideways glance at Tess.

  “See what I mean? That’s three people in one week who’ve dissed my car,” I said incredulously, adding, “Did you see him checking you out?”

  Her lips pinched together and she grabbed the new purse Lilah had given her. “Should I take the laptop? I assume we’re going to work at your place.”

  “Leave it. I have a better idea.” I took her hand. “We never picked out your Christmas gift. Might as well do it now.”

  “My gun?” Her eyes lit up.

  “Your gun.” I locked the office. “But please tell me you’re not going to get a pink one.” Nikkolynn had a pink gun. She hadn’t a clue how to use it, but she had one, nonetheless.

  Tess pressed the button to the elevator instead of heading to the stairs. “I promise, no pink. Come on. I want to show you how long it takes to get downstairs.” The thing rattled to life as it made its way to us. “See.” She pointed to the doors as they creaked open ever so slowly. She glanced inside the elevator, making sure it was empty—or rather making sure Garen wasn’t inside waiting to pounce. She pressed the main button, giving me an I told you so look as we made our creaky descent.

  I reached over and pressed the large red emergency break button and we screeched to a stop. Her hands went to her hips. “The owner’s not going to be pleased if you break his elevator. And what if it won’t start back up? You’ll be in big trouble, mister.”

  Her arms wrapped around my neck as she lectured. “Some things are worth the risks,” I said before kissing her. Oh yeah, definitely worth it.

  ***

  We drove directly to the gun store across from the mall, slowing as we passed a car dealership. Both Tess and I glanced out at the snow-covered cars. “You should get that.” She pointed to a sporty black convertible. “One of my guilty pleasures is Jags. Jaguars,” she clarified, as if that were necessary.

  “Tess, I’m a guy. Every guy knows what a Jag is. It’s embedded in our DNA.”

  “My brother had a black Jag Hot Wheel car that he loved. He carried it everywhere. You can blame him for my obsession.” She turned to me. “Do you want to take a peek?”

  “You do realize that if I get a Jaguar, as in, big cat, I’ll never hear the end of it from Magpie,” I pointed out. “I was thinking more along the lines of an Avalon. Or maybe a Lexus. That says Successful Lawyer, don’t you think?”

  “A Lexus?” Her eyes widened in disdain. “Okay, Cole, get a nice safe Lexus.” Aside from being a klutz and a great guy, Cole’s taste in cars leaned to the boring side and I often teased him about it.

  I laughed heartily, mostly because it pleased me to see Tess get her spunk back. “I won’t tell him you said that.”

  We parked in front of the gun shop. I loved the store. I loved the woodsy smell. I loved the displays, everything from camping to hunting to fishing gear. And I loved the guns—from pistols to rifles, they had it all.

  “How can I help you today?” asked a burly man with long hair and beard. He reminded me of the guys on the reality show, Duck something or other. He even had a duck call on a tether around his neck.

  “Are you one of those brother’s from the duck TV show?” I had to ask, since the resemblance was so uncanny.

  “No. My name’s Nate, but I get that all the time. Must be the facial hair.” He stroked his untamed beard. “Is Uncle Si crazy or what?”

  I laughed. “I know, right? He makes the show, although I do like the older brother, too,” I said, eyeing a nice bow hanging on the wall above him.

  “Jase. He’s a good ole boy,” Nate agreed. “What can I help you with today?”

  “Do you carry the Glock Nineteen Gen Four?” I loved how the words rolled off Tess’s tongue like hot butter. The woman knew guns.

  “I do.” He pulled out a key, opened the display case, and grabbed the gun, setting it on a cloth on the counter. “This Gen Four is becoming more and more popular, probably because of its size.”

  Tess took the gun and bounced her hand up and down to test the weight of it. She laid it across her palm, no doubt testing the size against her hand. “Does it break down easily for cleaning?” Before Nate could answer her, Tess disassembled the gun and reassembled it in rapid succession. Nate gave me an impressed look. I beamed proudly.

  She looked at several more guns but in the end decided on the first. “Here’s the permit form.” Nate handed her a twenty-six-page book, really. “You’re going to want to take this home and fill it out. Bring it back with the proper ID.” He opened the form and highlighted what she had to bring back with her. “It takes New York six to nine months to approve the paperwork.”

  She took the book. “Another reason to hate it here.” She stuffed it into her bag. “First I’ll have to get my real license replaced since I’m taking back my real name. Who knows how long that takes? How am I supposed to protect myself until then?”

  “Tess, I’ll protect you. And Seth will when you are at his house,” I assured her.

  She spun around and faced me, her eyes lit up like the fourth of July. “You’ll protect me? What? Am I a poor defenseless female who needs a big strong man around?” She stormed out to the truck and continued her tirade. “This is the twenty-first century, buddy. I don’t—”

  “Whoa,” I interrupted, cupping her face in my hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just a stupid male so please have some pity on my pathetic species. We say dumb things all the time.”

  She fell into my arms. “I want my gun back. I feel vulnerable without it.” She took a few jerky breaths. “I know that’s stupid since I’ve never used it to protect myself, and it certainly didn’t help me the last time Garen showed up, but it gives me peace of mind.”

  I stroked her hair. “Let’s go over to my place. I think I can help your peace of mind.”

  We drove directly to my house. I led her to the den, where I kept my gun safe. Opening it, I said, “You can choose any one you feel comfortable with.”

  Her face lit up as she held the Derringer first. “My dad has this gun, only his has a pearl handle. I miss him already,” she mumbled. She set it down and examined a few others. Picking up my Glock twenty
-three, she nodded. “This one.” She turned to me. “Are you sure about this? You know I don’t have a concealed weapon permit.”

  I plugged my ears. “Lalalala, I didn’t hear that.” She smiled. I locked the gun safe. “They make that model in neon green, too. If you want we can get you that instead of the Gen Four.”

  “Tempting,” she said. “But I like the Gen Four.”

  “I got my love of guns from my dad, too. Then Seth’s dad after my father died.” I slipped the twenty-three in a zipper case before adding several fully loaded magazines. No use having a gun without ammo. “Should we do some target practice so you feel comfortable with it?”

  “Yes. And I’m sorry I got angry earlier.”

  “No apologies needed.” I kissed her forehead. “Let’s go.”

  At the range, I gave her a brief rundown of the gun, but she didn’t need it. At first I held off telling her that despite the fact that the magazine held thirteen bullets, New York law dictated no more than seven bullets per magazine. When I did summon the courage, she only mumbled, “Great. More good news for whack-jobs like the ex."

  We each put on our ear protection. “You go first,” she insisted. I fired off the seven rounds in rapid succession, hitting the bull’s-eye five out of seven times. The sixth and seventh shots were just outside the inner circle.

  Tess fired next after reloading the magazine. She too fired off her rounds quickly. She outscored me, hitting the bull’s-eye dead center each time. We slipped of the earmuffs as we looked over the target.

  “Put down that gun and come here,” I teased. “I think I’m in love.”

  Before she could, the door to the shooting range flew open, startling us. Instinctively, Tess turned and pointed the gun at the intruder, who stopped dead.

  “Whoa.” The kid that checked us in earlier threw his hands up. The gun wasn’t loaded, but he didn’t know that. “Just wanted to let you know we’re closing in ten minutes.” He darted out the door.

  Tess set the gun down and sank onto a bench, dropped her head into her hands and broke down. “I’m trying so hard to put him out of my mind, but I can’t. I’m tired of being terrified at every little noise.”