by KB Winters
I marched the ten paces to close the gap. “Where the hell have you been? Your plane landed almost an hour ago,” I demanded, shifting my angry narrowed eyes from her to her companion. “And who the hell are you?”
The man untangled himself from Alesha and extended a hand in my direction. I ignored it and his smarmy smile drooped. “You must be Carly. My name is Jake Fisher. Alesha and I met on the plane.” He glanced adoringly at Alesha. How was it that in a three-hour flight she’d managed to sucker this man into thinking there was some kind of relationship potential?
“Charming.” I uncrossed my arms and instead planted my fists on my hips.
“She mentioned you’d be here to pick her up.” He smiled like he still didn’t have a clue that I was not in a good mood.
He shifted his smile to Alesha, who was somewhere between amused and panicked as she stared at me. Jake continued, “We’d love for you to come out with us. There’s a little cantina up the road from here. Best margarita you’ll ever have. I told Alesha that she just has to try it.”
If I hadn’t been so furious, I might’ve laughed at his total obliviousness.
I smiled sweetly at him. “Well, unless you’re planning on meeting up in another three years, I’m afraid those margaritas will have to wait. I don’t know what my sister has told you, Jake, but she’s seventeen years old. So, I’d suggest you move along and go have that margarita, alone.”
Alesha narrowed her eyes at me and gave a haughty sigh. Her game was officially over. Beside her, Jake leaped away from her as though she’d suddenly lit on fire, his expression shifting in a colorful array from obliviousness to confusion to sheer horror. He took one more long look at Alesha, darted his gaze back to me, mumbled something about it all being a big misunderstanding, and took off in the opposite direction so fast that the wheels of his rolling suitcase lifted off the ground and slapped into the back of his ankles. I heard him grunt at the impact but he didn’t slow down or stop.
With one problem out of the way, I reached forward and pinched my fingers around Alesha’s bony upper arm. “Alesha Marie Roberts, consider this your official warning. Pull one more trick and you’re going to find yourself with a one-way ticket to New Hampshire.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “New Hampshire?”
“Yeah, Dad and I decided that sending you on a three-month vacation to Greece wasn’t exactly a fit punishment. So instead, we decided that if you can’t behave yourself here with me—under my roof—you’ll be going to spend the rest of the summer with Grandma in New Hampshire.”
Alisha’s bottom lip protruded in a pout that I’m sure could’ve worked on a variety of suckers. Unfortunately for her—I wasn’t one of them.
“So get it together, or the highlight of your summer will be Friday night Scrabble tournaments where the most exotic thing on the menu is green Jell-O.”
She sucked her lip back in, obviously realizing that it wasn’t working, and jerked her arm out of my grip. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come stay with you.”
“Because I make rules?”
Alesha crossed her arms. “Because you always have a huge stick up your ass. All I want to do is have a little fun! It’s Summer! But no! My stuck up prissy do-gooder sister hasn’t pulled the stick out, yet!”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t you fucking start with me or I’ll put your ass back on that plane and call it a day.”
“See? Hard ass!”
“It’s called being an adult, Leash. You should try it some time. Daddy isn’t going to always be there to soften the blow when you mess up your life.”
She set her lips in a defiant purse and glared at me. “You mean like when he bought you a restaurant just so you could have a job somewhere?”
I was done playing games. “Come on. We need to get your luggage and then get out of here. I have to get back to work.”
Alesha muttered something under her breath as I tugged on her arm, dragging her towards the baggage claim. I did my best to block out her pitiful grumbling, knowing that whatever she was complaining about wasn’t my problem. It was my job to keep her safe and out of trouble. It wasn’t my concern whether she liked me or not.
Which was fine with me since I didn’t think I’d be winning any Sister of the Year awards anytime soon.
Chapter Two
Nick
It had started out as a quick, one tank trip outta town. A drive to the coast, look around, and go home and get back to work. But two weeks later, I was standing in an empty apartment, looking at the peeling paint on the walls and the cracks in the ceiling, and smiling to myself because that day trip had turned into the opportunity of a lifetime and I was finally busting out of the shit hole.
I dropped the key and the spare on the counter with my final rent payment, let myself out of the apartment one last time, and went down to my truck that was weighted down by cardboard boxes that contained everything I owned.
“Adams? Hey, man, wait up!”
I turned at the familiar voice and offered a smile to Sgt. Parker Lane as he jogged across the street to where my raised F-350 was parked. “Hey Lane. You hittin’ it early today?” I jerked my chin from the doorway he’d just stepped out of. Bud’s Taproom. “Not even three o’clock yet.”
Parker shrugged. We both knew there was nothing else to do in Fallon. It was a work until it’s time to drink, and then sleep until it’s time to work kind of place.
“I didn’t know you were leaving town,” he said, his eyes roving over the heaped pile of boxes in the bed of the truck. Everything was roped down and secure but it still looked like a road hazard.
“Yeah. New job out on the coast.” I pocketed my hands in the back of my worn jeans.
“Damn.” Parker shook his head. “Sad to see you go, man. First you’re out of the unit, now this?”
“It’s time to move on,” I shrugged. “I can’t stay here and tend bar forever. There’s nothing in this town unless your active duty and I’m not and have no intention of changing that.”
“I hear ya.” He nodded, but his understanding could only go so far. Parker was a lifer. He came from military stock and wouldn’t be looking for an exit anytime soon. “There a girl involved?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Nah. Just the job. I’ll be working for Aaron Rosen, he’s ex-Navy. Good guy. His pops opened an air museum out there and he took it over after his old man passed on.”
“Why not work at the Air Park? Same thing. Right?”
I’d tried to finagle my way into the Fallon Air Park. “They don’t want me. They don’t think I’m qualified or some bullshit like that.”
Parked nodded sagely. “Well good luck, man. Don’t be a stranger. Next time you’re in town, give me a call, I’ll buy ya a round.”
“I will, man.” I clapped him on the shoulder and he turned to jog back across the street to the bar. Before he slipped inside the banged up metal door, he looked back and gave me a parting salute. I returned it with a grin and he went into the tavern.
There were few things I’d miss about my life in Fallon. It had never felt like home. And I sure as hell wouldn’t miss my cheap ass apartment with its busted appliances, pest control issues, and noisy neighbors. But Parker was a good buddy. I’d miss him.
I hopped up into the cab of my truck, fired it up, and pulled away, putting Fallon and the memories I’d made there in the rear view mirror.
I wasn’t going back.
* * * *
“There’s an employee lounge. I keep coffee and shit in there, but it’s bare bones. If you want something specific, tell Lana. She’ll make sure we get it stocked. At the end of the hall is my office. I don’t keep normal hours, but if I’m in there and you need to talk, come on in. I don’t mind.” Aaron Rosen, the owner of the Rosen Air Museum, and my new boss, turned back at the conclusion of his tour and gave me an appraising glance. “Questions?”
“Nope.” The museum was medium sized, and while Aaron had managed to pack an impress
ive amount of planes and displays into the place, it was a pretty straight forward layout and wasn’t difficult to navigate. “I think I’m good. Ready to get my hands dirty.”
Aaron laughed and clapped my shoulder. “I like your attitude. Trust me, there’ll be plenty of time for that. But first, we’re having a staff meeting in about an hour and I gotta go pick up the food. You wanna come with? I’ll show you around town on the way.”
“Sure.” His offer surprised me. I’d have figured he’d want me to get right to work as we’d spent the better part of the last two hours touring the museum, offices, hangar, and shooting the shit. All of which was on the clock. But hey, it was on his dime. Who was I to argue?
Aaron led the way back through the museum and out the side door that led to a small offshoot of the main parking lot. There were a few vehicles parked there, and Aaron led the way to an old Army Jeep that had clearly been restored. “Sweet ride,” I commented, slipping into the passenger seat.
He fired it up and it sounded brand new. “Thanks.” He grinned, in a self-satisfactory way and slid on a pair of aviators. “Got it at an auction. I was there for this sweet little T-5 Trainer, but ended up with this thing instead. Haven’t regretted it, although, it was a pain in the ass to find all the parts. Even with my connections. And, I take a little shit from Gemma about it being an old Army rig. She’s always trying to swipe the keys from me.”
“Gemma’s your girlfriend?”
“Fiancée,” he corrected, matter of factly.
“Congrats.” I nodded and added the tidbit to the mental file I was keeping on Aaron Rosen. He was my boss, and it was going to be imperative to impress him if I wanted to stick around past the project he’d hired me for. Something, I had a feeling, I’d want to do.
“Thanks man. She’s an Army vet. Now she works up at the hospital. ER.”
I let out a low whistle. “Rough job.”
Aaron shrugged, one hand on the wheel as he guided us down the winding road that cut through the hillside, before dropping us into the small town below. “She’s a champ. Doesn’t hurt that her ER is pretty slow most days. You’re new here, but you’ll learn fast, that there’s not a whole helluva lot going on around here.”
I shot him a sidelong glance but didn’t press the issue. Since meeting him, I’d been sitting on some questions relating to the recent media coverage of the museum. It had been about six months, and things had died down, but in my research—before accepting his job offer—I’d done a little digging and had more questions than answers about what had really happened.
Maybe it hadn’t been as big of a deal as the media had made it out to be. Certainly wouldn’t be the first story that got blown out of proportion.
“All I know is that it’s a massive upgrade from Fallon.”
Aaron laughed. “I’ll bet. I was out there for a few weeks back in the day…”
“Not a pretty place.”
“You got that right.”
His laugh petered off into a chuckle as he turned onto the main strip through town. “All right, so here’s what you need to know about Holiday Cove, it’s a small town in every sense of the term. The locals are passionate about keeping it small and while they are very welcoming to tourists—they just don’t want too many of them, which means there isn’t a lot of businesses or anything that would draw in big crowds…well, other than my museum. But they tolerate that because it’s up a little ways and most people just come up here for the day and don’t mess up the town.”
“Gotcha.” I turned my attention out the passenger window as Aaron continued his tour guide spiel. The town had a definite gingerbread-meets- the-beach vibe to it. The houses were mostly bungalow or Craftsman style, with cedar siding, white fences, and postage stamp yards, complete with gnome statues and bunny sculptures with painted on clothing. The businesses were all small, and seemed to be family owned, not part of a chain or franchise: Tom’s Hardware, Jenny’s Salon, Sal’s Butcher Block.
“Where’d you end up finding a place?”
“Up a few blocks from here.” I jerked my chin in the direction of the road unfolded out in front of us. “There’s a little set of three houses. Normally they’re rented out by the week, at a hefty price tag, but I talked the owner into letting me do a three-month rental and she gave me a break on the lease.”
Aaron nodded. “Nice.”
When he’d offered me the job, it was on a trial basis, just long enough to repair an F-4 he’d won at an auction and hadn’t had time to fix up himself. After that, it had been left open ended. Which was fine with me. After spending eight years with the Marines, I was in no hurry to get myself into another long term commitment. Of any kind. Freedom was new and it was sweet. I wouldn’t have traded my years in the service for anything. The skills, life experiences, and friendships were irreplaceable, but I wasn’t in a hurry to give up my newfound anonymity. If the job didn’t work out—or something better came along—I’d be free to make a grab for it.
Aaron pulled up in front of a shop with a small blue sign that read The Siren hanging above a doorway that was painted a matching shade of blue. A silver mermaid was stenciled onto the sign, giving it a nautical feel that would have translated even if the shop weren’t steps from the beach. Aaron hopped out and I hustled out to meet him on the sidewalk.
Aaron pointed up at the sign. “Now, this is important. This is Carly’s shop. She’s a fuckin’ genius with all things coffee, food, and especially desserts. Prepare yourself.” He grinned and pulled the door open.
I stepped inside the small shop and did a quick sweep. There was a similar color scheme on the inside. Blue walls, silver accents, and a few more mermaids laying around. The owner obviously had a thing for the mythical sea creatures. My visual tour was cut short, as I brought my eyes back to the central focal point—the dessert case and espresso bar—and found myself staring at a drop dead gorgeous woman with huge blue eyes, long blonde hair with streaks of bright pink, and a silver stud in her nose.
And she was wearing a smile that dripped with flirtation.
Unfortunately…it wasn’t directed at me.
“Hey handsome,” she purred at Aaron, flashing an even wider grin as he stepped up to the counter.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
What happened to his fiancée? It wasn’t any of my business, but it certainly didn’t seem wise to be carrying on an affair with the coffee shop owner when you lived in such a small town.
“Who’s your friend?” she asked, her eyes giving me a once over.
Aaron laughed and turned towards me. He beckoned me forward, and I realized that I’d stopped in my tracks as soon as I’d seen her, leaving me two steps inside the shop. “This is my new mechanic, Nick Adams. He’s helping me restore that F-4 I got a few months ago. Things have been so fuckin’ crazy since everything went down that I haven’t had a chance to get to it, so I called in for backup. This guy was rottin’ away out in Fallon, so it’s a good deal for the both of us.” Aaron turned back to the woman. “Nick, this is Carly. The magician behind everything you see and smell right now.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Nick.” Carly laughed. “Although, Aaron flatters me…I’m really more of a mastermind.” She winked at Aaron and backed away in the direction of a gleaming espresso machine. She set her hand on the lever and looked back at Aaron. “The usual?”
He nodded and leaned against the counter, propped up on his elbows. “Yeah, then I’m gonna need a shit ton of desserts. Whatever ya got. Staff meeting.”
She nodded and then flicked her eyes to me. “What about you, Nick? Name a drink and I can whip it up, even if it’s not on the menu.”
“Thanks.” Carly turned to work on Aaron’s drink and I noted that she was using a manual machine. Impressive. She was old school. Then my eyes wandered away from the machine and down her full ass. Her curves were hidden under an all-black outfit, ankle length black pants hugged her thighs and hips and the white ties of her apron hung over a curvy ass tha
t was hard to stop watching as she tapped out the beat of the pour on the shot she was pulling.
The menu was hanging above her workstation, a long chalkboard, framed with silver and large enough to hold the three dozen menu items, each one written out in loopy white lettering.
As I was still looking it over, the bell on the door jangled, and the morning breeze filtered into the shop. I turned to glance over my shoulder. A female was walking through the door, half of her face masked by enormous sunglasses. She was dressed in clothes that looked like they probably cost more than most people made in a week, and she had an air of impatience and irritability to her that made me sidestep out of her path without her so much as glancing my way.
“I’m here! Are you happy now?” She yelled out, her gaze seemingly focused on Carly’s turned back.
Carly’s shoulders tensed and when she turned around, her face was in stark contrast to the generous, flirtatious smile she’d been wearing when we’d first arrived. She narrowed her eyes on the girl who’d entered the shop and looked on the verge of snarling as she handed Aaron his coffee. “Aaron, you remember my sister, Alesha. She was here last summer.”
Aaron’s face was a comical mix of confusion and horror as he turned around to meet the eyes of the girl who’d just paused to remove her sunglasses. She glanced at Aaron and her entire expression changed. Her cold stare dropped away and she smiled at him. “Of course he remembers me.”
“Nice to see you, Alesha. I didn’t realize you were coming back this summer,” Aaron said, reaching blindly for his coffee, as if afraid to break her stare.
“Mmhmm.” She cut her glance to Carly and ice frosted over her matching blue eyes. “Carly and Daddy figured it would be best.”
Carly rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “What in God’s name are you wearing? I told you that you’d be working today. I meant here. In the cafe. Not on the Gucci runway.”
Alesha scowled at her sister. “I didn’t pack polyester…or whatever the hell it is you’re wearing.”
