Evernight Publishing ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2015 Moira Callahan
ISBN: 978-1-77233-625-2
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Stephanie Balistreri
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
GREATEST GIFT
Moira Callahan
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
Humming softly along with the Christmas tunes playing over the stereo, Holland swiped a cloth over the bar top. It was busy work to keep herself from going stir crazy on a slow night. She had the usual regulars scattered around the joint to give her a few tasks here and there. The good old boys who arrived at the same time each evening, and then departed at the same time each night.
They were more accurate than the clock hanging over the bar. A rather sad state when she thought about it, but the pub owner loved the damn temperamental thing. Which meant it stayed, period.
A hand lifting up caught her eye. Noting the table, she gave a nod, and moved to pour four more drafts for the gents. The door opened, and preceded by an arctic blast, another regular came inside. Boots stomped, jacket shaken, and greetings called out. He turned to catch her eye, and with a nod, Holland waved him to his usual seat.
She grabbed the bottle, and after popping the cap off, slid it down the bar to his spot. It took precision to get a bottle to stop where it needed to, something she’d practiced often when she’d started working for Marty. He kept the damned thing waxed to a high sheen, and expected it to be maintained by whomever had the shift behind it, which provided the perfect glassy surface. She’d had more than one incident where she’d applied too much force and sent a bottle off the far end. Not exactly her finest moments.
After delivering the pints to the table, she stopped to chat with the newcomer. Carl was an unusual bird, but she happened to like his slightly colorful personality. “Did you get all your shopping done, Carl?”
Over the menu, the man—and every other regular had memorized—shot her a look and snorted. “The missus told me this morning we need to go out tomorrow night together for the grandbabies gifts. She seems to think having me along with her is a good thing.”
Holland hid the grin curving her lips at the morose tone in his faint lilting Irish accent by adjusting a few items below the bar top. She felt for him. Not everyone liked having to shop, especially during the big crush.
“I guess that means we won’t see you tomorrow then.”
“Not unless I can find a way out,” he muttered. His attention returned to the menu.
Like many other regulars, Carl liked to browse the entire thing before ordering his favorite item. But she waited patiently for him to make the choice. It was something she’d learned early on. Marty had told her the regulars were stuck in their ways, and to roll with it. It had taken her a while, but she got it now.
Five minutes later, he gave her his order, the same as always. She loved how predictable these guys were. God help her if they ever decided to actually change up their meals. Putting in his order, she made the rounds to collect empty glasses, confirm the refills, and wave off the guys who were heading back out into the blustery pre-Christmas weather.
Shivering when another draft came through, she looked up to greet whomever it was. Not a regular since they were all settled in, or heading home. Holland stifled the instinctive curse when she spotted who’d wandered in. Fucking Jakob Nichols and his freakin’ sidekicks Nixon Teller and Grady Phelps. Not what she needed on an otherwise halfway decent night.
She held back the instinctive sneer, barely, and nodded to them. They settled in at the bar, because taking a table well away from her would have been too convenient by half. Assholes. “What can I get for you?” she asked, passing them a menu each.
Jakob eyed her up and down before turning his frosty grey gaze to the menu. Oh, how she disliked the guy. There was something about him that made her want to smack him. Then there were her truly crazy moments when she wanted to tear his shirt off and jump his bones. The man was built, no denying that. If she wanted to keep her red-blooded woman card she had to give him that much at least.
It was his icy, snarly attitude she could do without. If she could muzzle him he’d probably be a catch. Sadly, she didn’t think he’d go for that. He was too alpha to submit to anyone especially a woman. A real shame, she could think of a couple hoops she’d like to make him jump through.
His sidekicks ordered a lager draft each while frowning at the menus in hand. Moving to pour their beers, she felt his chilly gaze coast over her. It took all her will not to give into the shiver threatening to run up and down her body. Instead, she focused on the perfect pour, and setting the glasses down smoothly before the guys.
They gave her their orders efficiently, and then scooping up the mugs, they headed to the pool table. Which left Holland practically alone with Jakob. Not good. She stared after them and wondered what force in the universe she’d pissed off enough to torture her this way.
Slowly, she returned her gaze to Jakob. Holland had the sudden compelling urge to clear her throat repeatedly, and shift around on her feet. She manage to stifle both nearly driving needs. But it was a damn close thing. Instead, she lifted an eyebrow and hoped he took it for the silent prompt it was.
“Bottled dark ale.”
With a nod, she moved to the fridge to collect his beverage. The fact her hands might have been shaking wasn’t something he needed to know about. That Jakob was the reason was not something to share either. Steadying her hands, Holland removed the cap, and set the chilled bottle before him.
When she caught a wave from the regulars’ table in the back corner relief poured through her. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it to the taps to get them fresh brews. A warm, calloused, male hand landed on her wrist to shackle her arm. While Holland could have shaken him off she couldn’t seem to make her body perform the action when it was Jakob’s hand. Damn man seemed to have cast a spell over her.
Looking at him, she waited silently to find out what he might want now. She would have asked but her tongue was firmly glued against her palate. A regular event around Jakob.
“We’ll get burgers, two rare, one medium rare, fries on the side for one rare and the medium, onion rings for the other rare burger. And we’ll need vinegar too, please.”
Stunned that he knew the word, she pointedly looked at her wrist, and then back his direction. For a long moment, Holland wasn’t a hundred percent sure he’d let go, but then his fingers slid off her skin. His callouses rasped lightly to her flesh creating a wonderful sensation contrast that had her brain wondering what that touch would feel like on other parts. More sensitive parts.
Holland got gone while the getting was good. She put in the order, and then took a quick minute in the kitchens to hyperventilate. When she was back under some semblance of control she headed back out front. Avoiding looking his way, she attended to distributing more beers, collecting empties, and getting paid by those heading out into the blustery night.
She made one last trip to the only table left once she’d fed Jakob’s group. The one who’d lost their bet, whatever it might have been, followed her back to the bar to settle their tab. Thanking him, and the others, she watched them head out the door. And then she was alone with Jakob, Nixon, and Grady who appeared n
owhere near ready to head off.
Given the hour, she knew there wouldn’t be any stragglers coming in with the storm outside. With that in mind, she went to talk with the cook, and told him to head off. Marty would have had a fit, but to hell with him. If the guys needed anything more to eat she could manage. While she may not be a culinary expert she wasn’t a complete spaz in the kitchen.
Locking up the back door after he left, Holland groaned. She knew she should start to shut down for the night. The guys were entertaining themselves between the pool table, and the juke box. Clean up would keep her busy in between getting them more drinks for whatever time they planned to stick it out. That thought firmly in mind, she headed for the front with her spray bottle, and a rag.
Chapter Two
She was avoiding him. Not that Jakob particularly blamed her. He hadn’t exactly gone over and above to make Holland feel anything but discomfort in his presence. It made life easier if he didn’t have to worry about her liking him. Or he had thought it would make everything easier, instead it had only complicated the matter and not shut down his own driving need to be around her. One of the biggest reasons Jakob avoided the pub whenever possible.
To spend more time around Holland might well be a great idea on one hand, on the other, it was like putting on his own cuffs and then dropping the keys down a storm drain. Jakob personally would rather shooting himself in the foot than do that shit. Unfortunately, getting close to her had been unavoidable tonight.
The bar he and his buddies usually went to was closed for the Christmas break. The owner had a couple little girls who he always put above anything, or anyone else. And when the girls had wanted to do Christmas out at the family's cabin it had sealed the plans in stone. Which also meant that anyone who normally hit up the bar either had to come to the pub with the much more pleasant atmosphere, and Holland, or head into the city their town was practically a suburb of.
Tempted though he’d been to head into the city, he couldn’t bring himself to justify it when the weather was so bad. Between Nix and Grady he’d have had to listen to them riding his ass all night. They knew well and good that Holland fucked with Jakob’s head. The only reason they didn’t give him a harder time was because he flat out refused to allow it to affect his everyday life. Not always the easiest task, but he managed. Most days.
What he couldn’t understand was why they were, for all intents and purposes, ignoring him. Except for when they’d first come in, Nixon and Grady had stayed over at the jukebox and pool table. The one time Jakob wandered over had been to eat, and then they’d pretty much told him to bugger off. This was not their normal behavior. These two assholes seemed to prefer making his life miserable by harassing him in some subtle, and other not quite as subtle ways. Giving him space was definitely not in their wheelhouse.
The soft wash of her scent like orchids was his only warning before she spoke. “Another?”
Knowing she meant another ale, Jakob nodded. He didn’t watch her straight on, she got extremely uncomfortable when he did. It was a pretty common occurrence for him. She wasn’t the first person he’d made uncomfortable, and he doubted she’d be the last.
“Thanks,” he murmured when the full chilled bottle replaced the empty warm one. Wrapping his hand around the bottle, he lifted it to take a refreshing sip. From the corner of his eye, he could see her pause, her gaze on him, and then she stepped from view. He knew exactly where she was without looking her way, his body was that tuned into hers.
Yeah, he fucking wanted her. Had from day one if he was to be honest with himself. It was her wariness around him that put him off. He knew on first meeting any human, male or female, would instinctively react to the fact Jakob was a predator. That Holland had persisted in tiptoeing around him had only pissed him off. The beast within wanted to bite her, and then pet her until she came around to understanding. Jakob had put up with enough disdain in his life that hers rubbed him raw. Even given the fact she didn’t know he wasn’t fully human. Her subconscious mind knew something was amiss, and reacted accordingly. Too bad, he actually liked her.
“Your friends are leaving.”
Jakob hadn’t heard her come up behind him. Thank goodness for her soft scent giving him a small warning. It would be seriously embarrassing to have to peel his ass from the ceiling because a mere human female had scared him. Nix and Grady definitely wouldn’t ever let him live it down.
He turned his head to look over his shoulder. Fuckers hadn’t mentioned they were leaving, but he knew that look on Grady’s face. They’d apparently discussed things again, and were doing what they thought was best. Fuckers couldn’t stop interfering in his life no matter what he said. And if he threatened them they only became amused. He was pretty damn sure they were not quite right in the head.
Jakob gave a shrug in answer to Holland’s not very subtle hint. He understood she would prefer he leave with Nix and Grady. But he didn’t feel like being the good guy yet again. Jakob wanted to be around Holland for one night, no worries, no concerns for the future, and without her looking at him like he’d murdered someone before her. Was that really too much to ask?
She huffed out an aggrieved breath answering his question. For her it apparently was.
Shaking his head, Jakob pulled out his wallet, and threw more than enough money on the bar. He quickly drained the bottle, and then slammed it down on the bar. Without looking her way, he swung off the stool and stalked to the doors. Nixon was frowning at his approach.
“This is too much,” Holland said behind him.
Jakob clenched a hand into a fist, and let out a slow breath. He didn’t bother stopping or turning around. “Fucking, keep it,” he snarled over his shoulder.
“Jak,” Grady said. He blocked Jakob’s path. “What the fuck’s up, man?”
He leveled a look on the other male he knew would get a reaction. Grady dropped his gaze, and stepped back from Jakob’s path. Only when he would have continued moving, a small hand stopped him. Unlike any others in town he couldn’t shake off her touch. It was the only touch that could stop him, and calm him all at the same time. Turning his head to look at her, he barely noticed Grady and Nixon’s hasty retreat from the pub.
“It’s too much,” she said.
Glancing down, he saw she was holding out the excess.
“Consider it a tip for the stellar service.” Her flinch at his dig should have made him feel better, instead he felt like a bigger heel. She was terrified around him and here he was making it worse by snarking at her. Trying to shake her hand off his arm, he stepped back. “Or consider it compensation for having to put up with my despicable presence.”
The shocked look on her face had him stilling. “What are you talking about?”
“Really? You plan to play it that way? Fine, I’ll play your little game. You cross the street, or turn a corner whenever I’m close enough we could potentially cross paths. Hell, I walked in here tonight, and if you’d had the option I’m fucking betting you would have gone running out the back door. The part I can’t quite figure out is if you’re scared of me, hate me, a combination or something else entirely. Personally, I couldn’t give two shits, but it’s getting old. My nerves are raw enough already today, I don’t need to have you tiptoeing around or skittering off into the corner whenever I fucking breathe or move.”
Her hand still resting on his arm tightened on the leather. Then she tugged, and for whatever reason, he allowed himself to be led back to the bar. Sitting when she pushed him toward the stool, he shook off her hold, and crossed his arms.
She settled on the stool before him, and put the money on the bar. Both hands in her lap, she began to twist her fingers together. He could scent her nervousness, but there was no fear. A good thing given his current mood. Now if only she’d get to making whatever her point might be, he could then head home. Have a beer, read his book, and ignore the real world for a time while licking his wounds.
Chapter Three
She didn’t
know where the hell to start. When she’d grabbed onto him she’d been hoping something would pop into her head. Holland was still waiting for the words to come to her. Jakob looked impatient, hard, and not all that receptive to whatever might eventually come spewing from her mouth. She’d better make it good then.
“Yes, you scare me.” Holland flinched internally. Open mouth and insert her foot, standard operating procedure for her under pressure. “You’re hard to get a read on. I also don’t know how to deal with what you make me feel when you’re around.”
He shifted on the bar stool, leaning in toward her. Not that Jakob said anything, probably a good thing. She was babbling enough already and didn’t need him helping to amp up the anxiety riding her.
Scraping a thumb nail over a scratch she had on the opposite knuckle, she fought to wrangle her thoughts. “I always have this dual battle inside. On one hand I want to smack you, and on the other,” she trailed off. Holland could not believe what she’d almost admitted. Pressing her lips together tightly she internally berated herself for the near slip.
Jakob’s knees were almost touching hers suddenly. A large male hand landed on hers to stop the nervous movements. Her body whimpered at the contact, need racing through her even while some part screamed to run. Sneaking a peek through her lashes at him, she found herself being watched. The grey eyes warmer than she’d seen them in a long time. At least when pointed in her direction.
“You planning to share what the other might be?”
“Nope.”
He gave her a hard look but there was no way she was going to cave. They both knew what she’d almost said. She knew he knew, the expression that morphed from the hard look told her straight up he did. If she went and said the words god only knew where that would lead. Not happening.
Greatest Gift Page 1
