Red Hot Bikers, Rock Stars and Bad Boys

by Cassia Leo

  “You know the cat is hers,” Finn said. “Kind of.”

  Jon looked up, surprised. “Hers?”

  “Well, a stray that had been hanging around her house. She’s been feeding it and made a bed on her porch. She even gave the cat a name. Cocoa, I think. Alex was talking about it tonight. I swear that codger is in love with her, the way he goes on and on... course that would be a first for him... Pa always said he was a eunuch...”

  Jon barely heard the last of his brother’s ramblings, but the first part of what he had said took him off-guard. Feeding a stray was something he would have done, so her kindness should have warmed him to her. But Jon’s feelings were not logical, and so instead he was annoyed she had done something he knew he should give her praise for. He also wondered if she would want to come visit Cocoa once she figured out Jon had brought her home to convalesce.

  No good deed ever went unpunished.

  Jon was still lost in his thoughts of the prior week’s events, when Jessica returned from calling her husband. “Jackson said a storm is coming.”

  Yes, he knew that, thanks to his brother. Finn always had the gift of sense.

  “You go home. I'll keep an eye on Mr. Jenkins a while longer and he can spend the night at our house.”

  “Thanks Jon,” she said, already pulling on her coat. Islanders may be used to storms, but there was no amount of pride bigger than their good sense. “If the roads are open, I'll come by tomorrow to get him.”

  “Either way.” After Jessica was gone, he surprised himself by wondering how Ana was getting on with storm preparation. Annoyed with his sentimental lapse, he shrugged off the thought.

  ***

  11- ALEX

  Alex mentally kicked himself for missing Ana’s call earlier that afternoon. He was doing something for her at the time: The central heating in the upstairs of her house was faulty and Alex was looking into a portable heater she could use in her bedroom. His cracked lips spread into a wide, beaming smile as he imagined her face when she realized what he had done for her. He might even be the last person she thought of each night before drifting off into a warm, comfortable rest.

  Unfortunately, True Value didn’t have any left in stock, and he wouldn’t make it in time to catch the last ferry into town. He had it in his mind to ask the Farnsworths if they had any extras lying around—they were known for being packrats and if they didn’t have something, no one would—but something told him to go home first. When he checked his messages, he heard Ana’s panicked voice describing the incident with the fridge.

  Alex smacked his palm to his forehead. He was forgetting things again! He had known the cord was rotting, and he knew at some point, during the cord wrapping exercise he had set her on, she would discover it and call him. But he was having trouble keeping track of these things, and his headaches had started to come back.

  He called her back before the message finished playing, and his heart leapt at the lovely sound of Ana’s relieved voice flooding his ears. He quickly and boldly told her that he was going to arrange getting some of the Farnsworths’ reserves and would bring them by later that evening, or early the next morning.

  After he hung up the phone, an amazing thought occurred to him. As all of Ana’s food had spoiled, she would have nothing to eat... and she could hardly cook even when she had food. He reckoned she had not had a hearty, home-cooked meal since she arrived.

  An idea was forming in Alex’s head. A brilliant, wonderful idea.

  The sun was starting to set, so anything too elaborate was out of the question, but he had bought some fresh cod that would bake up nicely. He went to work quickly in the kitchen, humming to himself as he prepared the fish with garlic and basil, potatoes, and fresh steamed broccoli.

  She is going to love this, Alex thought to himself, over and over as he worked. He recalled the look in her eyes whenever she asked for help, or mentioned how others had received her. He couldn’t do much about how the island’s residents treated Ana, but he could be there when she needed him. Tonight, he would save the day and she wouldn’t even be expecting it!

  He carefully wrapped the prepared meal in foil, placing it in a box, then delicately topped it with towels, hoping that would preserve the heat long enough to get it over to her. He raced out the door, and then stopped abruptly.

  Wine! he thought. What a lovely surprise that will be!

  Alex was not much of a wine drinker, but the Aldridge’s had a vineyard and they always gave him a bottle of wine when he would come out and fix something around the house for them. He had nine of them sitting in the pantry, untouched. Studying them, he realized he didn’t know the differences, then finally settled on a red and fled out the door.

  Alex thought his heart was going to beat clear out of his chest. He didn’t know what to make of his excitement, but this felt somehow... different than any of the other times. Sadly, all of the other women he’d tried to help in the past had become distant, and ungrateful, eventually beginning to resent Alex’s help.

  In contrast, Ana never failed to thank him or appreciate him. He pictured her beautiful, relieved smile when he found her, drenched and helpless at the lighthouse. She was such a rare and unique girl, a true diamond in the rough. Part of him enjoyed how the rest of the town ignored her and, in the case of folks like Jon, were actually rude to her. It meant that he could be there for her, to make it better, and show her what it was like to have someone who truly cared.

  Alex thought that if she had ever experienced that before, she wouldn’t have come here.

  As he pulled into her driveway, he stopped and backed the car up, parking on the shoulder of Heron Hollow Road. It would be better if he could surprise her. One surprise after another. She was going to be beside herself!

  He carried the box and walked down the driveway with a skip in his step, his heart beating even faster. As he approached the large colonial, he saw her in the window and the blood rushed to his head so fast he almost dropped the meal. A smile slowly began to spread across his face, but then the smile died on his lips as he saw another head in her kitchen: Finn St. Andrews.

  Alex’s eyes narrowed into even slits, and his grip on the box tightened. He could hear the foil crunching inside and that destruction angered him further. His temples started to throb, one of his headaches imminent. He set the box down on the side of the driveway, dinner forgotten.

  He knew he should leave, but he had to know what was going on. It was possible that Finn was being neighborly. Alex knew she couldn’t be spending any regular time with Finn, or she wouldn’t have asked about him. But then, maybe that’s why she was asking... because she wanted to know if Finn was okay for dating? No, no... Alex shook his head furiously. No... it was probably just that she had called Finn when she couldn’t reach Alex earlier about the fridge. But that didn’t make sense either, as he had talked to her not so long ago and she knew he was coming over later.

  The thoughts were darting furiously around his mind, and he put both of his hands against the side of his head, trying to crush out the pain of the headache that was growing by the second. He had to think... think!

  Alex heard sound of her laughing—a sound so beautiful it would have stopped his heart under other circumstances—and saw Ana and Finn heading toward the living room, in the front of the house. Alex crept around the side, tiptoeing. As he approached the front, the sounds of their voices stopped him. They were on the porch and he could hear their words clearly.

  “So? What’s the verdict?” Finn was asking her with a note of playfulness in his voice.

  She giggled. “I’m afraid that a compliment will go straight to your head, so I have to respectfully plead the fifth.”

  “Aww, that’s no fair! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve cooked for a girl? How am I supposed to know how to cook for the next one?”

  “The next one?” Ana pretended to be offended. “I must have quite the effect if you’re already thinking about the next girl!”

  The
pain in Alex’s head was throbbing so badly he considered bashing his forehead into a rock to silence it. Finn had cooked for her. And they were flirting. Flirting.

  He couldn’t hear what they said next, but they both erupted in silly giggles and Ana said, “Meh, it was all right, I guess.” More laughter.

  “I could bring more over if you want,” Finn offered. “You’re going to need food with the storms coming in.”

  Alex could almost hear her smile. “That’s really nice of you… but I think Alex is going to bring some by later.” Did he detect a hint of embarrassment with the last part?

  Finn laughed. “Alex is a special guy.”

  “He’s been a lot of help to me since I got here,” Ana said generously. “I wouldn’t have known half of what I needed to do if it weren’t for him.” At this, the throbbing in Alex’s head slowed slightly.

  “I think he likes you,” Finn teased.

  Ana chuckled. “No, I highly doubt that.” Alex narrowed his eyes. The giggling, the flirting, this was not Ana, not at all. She was quiet, and thoughtful, and kind... she was not one of those girls.

  “You’ve made quite an impression on him.”

  “Alex is a nice guy,” she said, hesitantly. “A little odd—I’ll grant you that—but he’s been really great to me. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend out here.”

  A little odd? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  Finn smiled. “I’m glad to know you haven’t been out here alone.”

  “I’m sure that’s why it took you a month to introduce yourself,” Ana scolded.

  “I was trying to respect your privacy.”

  “Someone in a small town trying to respect the privacy of the new girl?” She laughed shortly. “Somehow, I’m skeptical.”

  Alex could see Finn walking toward Ana, and the two were now face to face. “I sensed you wanted your space.”

  The silence on the porch was so thick that Alex was afraid to even breathe for fear of giving himself away. He had a horrible, sinking feeling they were kissing, or about to. His stomach dropped, but then, to his relief, Ana turned away from Finn.

  “It’s getting cold,” she said.

  Alex saw Finn lift a sweater off a chair and drape it over Ana. “Storm is coming,” he observed, standing behind her. Too close for Alex’s comfort. “Let’s go in.”

  The sound of the screen door clanking against the wooden frame reverberated through Alex’s skull, over and over. The pain was so intense it was now also a sound, in the form of a high-pitched screech so loud and deafening that Alex worried surely others had to be hearing it too. He gripped the sides of his head and stumbled back toward the driveway, kicking the box of food over as he did, hobbling down the long stretch toward his truck.

  Alex threw himself across the bucket seat, nearly tearing the glove box open. He rifled around for the pills—he knew he had some in here—and his hand stopped as it grasped a bottle, finally. He ripped the childproof lid clear off and swallowed twice the recommended dose. The rest of the pills dropped to the floor. Alex flopped back on the seat, trying to breathe and force the pain and screeching sounds away.

  Tonight had not gone as planned. At all. Finnegan St. Andrews was young, and handsome, and seemed to have almost no care in the world. Alex knew his history... knew about all of the girls Finn had dated on the island, and how none of them had lasted. Ana didn’t deserve that! She deserved better. She deserved to be cared for, and respected. Finn would see her as nothing more than something new to play with.

  Alex closed his eyes and waited for the pain to pass so he could drive home. When he finally started the engine, the throbbing was a dim memory and his mind was clear.

  “My job is to take care of you Ana,” he said, not realizing he was speaking aloud. “I’ve always done my job. Always. I’m not going to stop now.”

  ***

  12- FINNEGAN

  The house wasn't as bad as Ana made it out to be. The kitchen was in disarray from the food carnage, but she was a very tidy person from what he could see in the rest of the house. If it weren't for the book on one of the end tables that had a bookmark in it, and a cup of cold coffee alongside, Finn might wonder if anyone even lived in the house.

  After the tour, she set to tidying up the kitchen while he started preparing food. She had taken her sweater off, revealing a plain white tee. At one point she caught him watching and he looked down quickly, embarrassed.

  Finn wasn't sure what it was about her that interested him. He barely even knew her. She was entirely different from the kind of women he normally dated: girls with big personalities, big other things, and small tendencies for commitment. He knew his lifestyle was simple; that most girls would realize it at some point and the relationship would go no further. His easygoing ambitions wouldn’t change, and he was okay with that, but he knew most women wouldn’t be. He dated accordingly.

  He wasn't nervous around Ana. Didn't feel the need to put on an act, or be tough. She was down-to-earth, and instantly put him at ease... even if he did feel silly about getting caught watching her. What could Finn say, though? That he wasn't checking her out? It was more about fascination than coveting. Who is this girl?

  She remarked it must be painful for a lobster to be boiled alive, and he told her that the lobster had no pain sensors. She seemed amazed he would know that. “If only we could be as fortunate as lobsters,” she remarked.

  “Fortunate enough to be boiled alive and eaten?”

  “No, to be able to go through the worst things imaginable, and feel no pain.”

  She was joking, but Finn saw something in Ana’s eyes that made him want to hug her.

  And then there was that moment when he had cut his finger with the kitchen knife. She ran to his side and took his hand in hers, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath. He started to tell her it was fine, to lie that it didn’t hurt, but then, suddenly… it didn’t hurt. Finn looked at his hand and the bleeding had stopped. Her mouth was open in shock and surprise, and she was smiling, but when he asked her what that was about, she shook her head and mumbled something about how squeezing a wound just right dulled the pain.

  Finn grinned at her suspiciously. “My father was a doctor, and I don’t remember that technique,” he teased, but she was already setting the table.

  After dinner, he asked her why she had come to Maine. He though he already knew but wanted to hear her explanation. How many other people had come to Maine for inspiration, or to write a big novel?

  But Ana surprised him when she admitted, “I don't know, exactly. I guess I wanted something different.” She studied him, as if expecting him to smirk. When he didn't, she relaxed and added, “I didn't use my father's money to come here, either. I know that's what people think. I have made my own money, doing my own things. And I own this house myself.”

  “I didn't think that, and I wouldn't know what others say,” Finn told her. “But I understand about getting away.”

  “Do you? You seem happy here.”

  “I didn't say I wasn't happy,” he qualified. “But sometimes it would be nice to get away.”

  Ana nodded, a dark, faraway look in her eye. There was more to her story. Finn sensed she even wanted to share it with someone, but she seemed to have a fortress built around her.

  They talked, then, for hours. She told him about growing up in New Orleans, as an only child. She mentioned only briefly the money her family came from, and though he was curious, she didn’t linger on the topic long. She seemed embarrassed about her background, and a few times she even sounded apologetic.

  Finn told her about growing up on the island. About his father, and his visionary medical practice. He talked about his choice to both go to college and subsequently abandon the endeavor. He also told her about Jon, and his dreams of being a doctor, and how he had quit suddenly to attend veterinary school. She raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.

  As they talked, he realized there was an
other reason he went after the type of girls he usually did. The smarter ones made him feel inadequate. It wasn't enough for him to tell them he went to college, and read the same books. That he could understand the things they talked about, but excluded him from. He would always be Finnegan St. Andrews to them; the fisherman. Those worlds did not blend.

  But around Ana, who was clearly well-educated, he felt like he was in equal company. She didn't look at him with pity or condescension. Rather, she saw a man who was interesting company.

  “How long are you going to stay?” Finn hoped she heard nothing more than the question in his voice.

  “I don't know. I like it here, but I feel no different than I did when I was at home. Unfortunately, it seems changing locations didn’t change anything. Maybe there is something fundamentally wrong with me.” Ana laughed, but he didn’t think she was joking.

  “There’s something fundamentally wrong with all of us,” he teased.

  She looked at the table, dropping her eyes. “You really have no idea, Finn.”

  He had that sense again, that she had stories to tell and needed to get them off her chest. “So, tell me.”

  Ana shifted her gaze toward the window, still avoiding his eyes. “I’m really messed-up.”

  Finn didn’t say anything. He feared she would stop talking and withdraw altogether if he tried to argue with her, and he wanted to hear what she had to say.

  “I wish I could say that I was simply lost, and didn’t know myself... but the problem is, I do know myself. I know exactly who I am.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to talk to people. You know how you see groups at a restaurant and they’re having a meaningful conversation, and it looks completely natural? I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to talk about my feelings, and I don’t know how to help others with theirs.”