Two Brutes, One Barista: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy (Alaskan Romance Book 3)

by Shaye Marlow

  A half hour later, clean and smelling amazing, I headed out. The forest was alive with birds, and mosquitos hurried my step as I moved along the trail to the neighbor’s.

  Birch Chalets was a well-kept operation with wide-open spaces of emerald green grass between the buildings. The cabins were small and neat, tucked into the edge of the woods, each with its own little porch. The low, familiar grumble of a generator gave the scene life, along with the lingering scent of breakfast sausage and syrup.

  The coffee shack was down near the docks. It was a little bigger than I’d expected, painted sage green with pink trim. Two little bistro-style tables flanked the orange door. Above the entrance was a hand-painted sign. ‘The Hook Cup’, it read. A large treble hook had been worked into the H, its tines curving up and out of the sign, while the U was a fancifully-painted, 3-D teacup.

  I almost turned around and went home, looking up at that cheerful sign. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t know what to order, what to say. How to be.

  It was my feet, at that point, that dragged me forward.

  THEA

  “Just a minute!” I called as the bell above the door jingled. It just figured: The coffee shop had been dead all morning, and the moment I got up on this stool, Suzy’d come in. Not a minute later, now here was someone else.

  I stretched upward, straining to tie a very small knot with one hand.

  “That stool looks like the swiveling kind,” an unfamiliar male voice said. As a wine, that voice would’ve been described as complex and smoky, with a crystal clarity, and utterly satisfying finish. It sent shivers down my spine.

  I really wanted to check out the owner, but I knew if I did, I’d probably unbalance and fall on Suzy, flattening her like a pancake and killing her dead.

  “It is,” I agreed, muttering a few choice words as the bit of fishing line slipped from the loop I was trying to force it into, for the third time.

  The stool wobbled, and Suzy cussed. “Dammit, Thea, I’m too small to catch you,” she said.

  “That may be true,” I said patiently, “but it doesn’t matter, ’cuz I’m not gonna fall.”

  “But if you do, you’ll probably break your neck, and then where will I be? Out one very skilled barista, that’s where!”

  I laughed.

  “J.D., will you come over here and—oh! oh, you already are, ha—help me with her?”

  Another pair of hands had taken up residence on the edge of my stool. They were masculine, a little scarred, a lot callused. Capable, I decided after the quick glance I stole.

  “Tell me,” that lovely voice drawled from behind me, “who decided standing on a swiveling stool in high heels was a good idea?”

  “I know!” Suzy said. “She was doing it when I got here. I’ve been trying to talk her down ever since.”

  I rolled my eyes. “They’re hardly high heels. They’re barely even two inches,” I argued. “If they were high heels, then I wouldn’t have to do this,” I said, stretching up onto tiptoes to push the thumb tack back into the ceiling.

  The stool wobbled, and Suzy whimpered as her latte probably flashed before her eyes.

  “Whoa, whoa,” J.D. said. “Thea—it’s Thea, right?”

  “That’s right.” The mobile kept slipping, and the birds tangling, and it was driving me batty.

  “Why don’t you let me do that?” he asked.

  “I got it,” I said, boosting the thing back up with one aching arm.

  “I’m sure you do, but you’re freaking Suzy out,” he said.

  “And I don’t freak easily,” Suzy put in.

  “She’s just worried about her latte.” I made a frustrated sound when the fishing line slipped, again.

  “Thea…”

  “Dammit, you don’t know me well enough to take that tone with me,” I said, “but okay, if it gets the job done, you can have a shot.”

  On ‘okay’, he relieved me of the mobile, and before I even thought about how I was going to approach getting down, he’d offered a hand. Which, of course, prompted me to look into his face… and then I fell off the chair.

  He lunged forward to grab me, and my feet slipped, and I squinched my eyes shut ’cuz all I knew was that gravity had me, and this was going to hurt. Suzy shrieked, and the stool clattered to the ground, and I held my breath, already anticipating injuries. Scraped palm, bruised ribs. Maybe I’d crack my knee, or worse yet, my head.

  “Hey.” That voice was very close, just above me. “I gotcha. You okay?”

  I opened my eyes.

  Oh. Staring into his startlingly blue eyes, I suddenly knew what sky-diving felt like.

  He was holding me, his body warm and firm against mine, his arms banded across my back. He lowered me to my feet, gave me a brief, incredible smile, and the opportunity to gather myself as he bent to pick up the stool.

  Straightening, he glanced around. “How about over the counter, instead?” he suggested.

  “Toward the end?”

  “Sure.”

  I nodded, feeling a little breathless. “That’ll work.”

  He boosted himself up in one ridiculously fluid, powerful motion. Earlier, holding that mobile up, I’d thought I needed to start lifting weights. Watching him conquer my counter made me suddenly wanna take—I dunno… ninja lessons. Did they even teach those?

  While I was staring with my mouth open, he’d swept the strands of birds into his arms, and was holding them up a moment later. “Here okay?” he asked, shooting me a glance from under one well-defined tricep. Damn me if his shirt didn’t ride up to reveal two perfectly-formed abs, just sitting there above his waistband like sweet buns on a platter.

  “Yeah,” I rasped, mouth watering as I dragged my gaze north. “There is… great.” I bit my lip, eyes aching with the strain of keeping them glued to his face.

  Suzy elbowed me, and I shrugged. My blush made her grin wider, and then I returned my attention to the gorgeous dude on my counter.

  He was having trouble. My smile fell away, watching him struggle. He favored his right arm, appeared to have difficulty raising it.

  “Oh crap, J.D., I forgot about your shoulder,” Suzy said.

  “It’s okay. I got this,” he said, echoing my earlier words.

  And, he did. He drove the thumb tack with his left hand and the comment, “You really should have something stronger than this, maybe one of those ceiling hooks. This could fall. Will, eventually, when we have an earthquake.”

  “I’ll figure something out when it does,” I replied, watching him lift the mobile with his right hand and swiftly, deftly tie a knot with his left. Damn, his fingers were nimble.

  “Also,” he said, shooting me a wry smile—that glance of his burned—“it probably would have worked better to tie a loop in the fishing line before getting up on that stool.”

  Somehow, I felt disgruntled and turned on in equal measures. I wanted to stick my tongue out at him, and wouldn’t have minded even one little bit if he swooped down to suck it.

  Reality was a far cry from fantasy, though. So, when he actually swooped down, I stumbled back in a hurry.

  “Oh, Thea, it’s so pretty,” Suzy said.

  I had to admit, she was right. Dozens of brightly-painted birds dipped and swooped and spun as they settled into their new home. I’d spent the past several days untangling it, but this, right now, made all the trouble worth it.

  “Thank you,” I told J.D., catching him staring at me.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, and turned to follow Suzy around the counter. “The birds are yours?”

  I nodded. “They were a Christmas present a long time ago. I’ve been carting them around ever since.” And, since I didn’t want to delve any deeper into that, I looked to Suzy. “Your usual?”

  “Yes, please,” she said. “And thank you for not dying.”

  “Anytime,” I said with a laugh.

  “Speaking of which,” she said as I poured the milk, “someone downriver saw Bigfoot!”

 
That got my attention.

  J.D.’s, too. “Wait. What does a Bigfoot sighting have to do with Thea dying?” he asked.

  “Well… they’d both be newsworthy?” Suzy tried. “And… I just about died of excitement, when I heard about the Bigfoot sighting.”

  “So, what happened?” I asked.

  Suzy leaned forward, her eyes twinkling the way they did when she had a juicy bit of gossip. “So this guy, his name is Ernest. He was at his summer cabin a mile or so downstream, said he heard a clatter in the yard. He went to the window to investigate, thinking it was a bear. But what he saw… It was big, very big,” she said, holding her arms up to their full and meager length, “and dark, and standing upright. Upright!” Suzy repeated.

  “What was it doing?”

  “He wasn’t sure what it was up to. When he approached the window, it saw him, and ran,” she said. “He said it ran fast, on two legs, and disappeared into the woods. And, he’s a pretty reliable source. He used to have a bit of a problem with alcohol, and got around quite a bit, if you know what I mean—kinda like your roomie, actually—but Ernest is totally sober and clean now, and there’s no reason he would make up a story.”

  “This side of the river?” I asked.

  She watched greedily as I poured her shots into the foamy milk. “Yep, but back in the woods a bit. Said the creature headed toward the hills.”

  “When did this happen?” J.D. asked, with his beautiful eyes on me.

  “Day before yesterday. Ernest and I don’t really move in the same circles, and so I had to hear it from a friend of a friend. I just called him this morning to confirm.”

  “Huh.”

  “Right?” Suzy said, as if J.D.’d acted excited.

  He may not’ve been, but I certainly was. I’d always been fascinated by Bigfoot.

  “I wonder if we’ll get more sightings, or if it was just a bear,” Suzy continued. “Those things can be trained to walk upright, I think. Maybe someone around here has a pet bear. Hmmm.”

  “Your coconut latte, with whip,” I said, handing it to her with a smile.

  “Oh! Before I forget,” Suzy said, cradling the paper cup in her hands. “Are you coming to my Passion Party?”

  My eyes went to J.D., highly conscious of the fact that Suzy was inviting me to a sex toy party in front of one of the sexiest guys I’d ever seen. While she delayed his order. Not that he seemed to mind.

  Suzy jumped on my hesitation. “C’mon, you’ll love it. All the ladies on the river’ll be there. We eat and gossip, and you don’t have to buy a darn thing if you don’t want to. We recently made the switch to Pure Romance,” she added, “so I just got in a bunch of new items for us to play with.”

  J.D. had developed an incredibly wicked little curve to his lips. It was distracting as hell.

  “When’s the party, again?” I asked.

  “Three o’clock this coming Saturday. Please come,” Suzy said, begging shamelessly. “Lane’s bringing her awesome sangria. And Helly’s bringing halibut. It’ll be fun. Pleease?” That sad-eyed cat on Shrek had nothing on her.

  “Fine. Fine, I’ll be there,” I said on a sigh.

  She did the cutest fist-pump I’d ever seen, complete with a curl-bouncing little dance, and once again, I found it hard to believe she was driving the big river barge parked out front.

  “See ya tomorrow,” she called, already headed for the door. I marked her tab, and by the time I looked up, she was gone.

  Leaving me alone with J.D. I had no other customers, no one sitting at the tables to my right. The silence was so complete, I could hear the clock ticking.

  “What can I get you?” I asked.

  His eyes were stuck to the board above my head. “A… latte?”

  I smiled. “Size?”

  “Medium?”

  I got to work making it, still watching him, wondering what his story was.

  He extended his left hand to accept the latte. “Thank you,” he said, nudging a five across the counter with the fingers of his right. He started to turn away, and I suddenly found that I didn’t want him to leave.

  “What happened to your shoulder?” I asked.

  He swung his eyes back. There was pain there. So much pain. “I broke it.”

  “Which part?” I kept my tone soft, conscious of the fact that I was poking an open wound.

  “Clavicle.”

  “Is it not healing up well?”

  “No. There were complications.” He managed a faint, rueful smile. “I have a frozen shoulder.”

  He watched as I rounded the counter, and didn’t resist when I took his drink back from him. I caught his left hand—strong, callused, warm—and pulled him after me.

  J.D.

  Thea, the lovely woman from the bar, was touching me.

  “I’m studying physical therapy,” she’d said. “I just want to take a look.” Then she’d sat me down at one of the little tables, and put her hands on my shoulder.

  And now, I… was staring at her wedding ring. It was a gold band, left hand, ring finger. No mistake about its meaning. I watched it flash as she felt her way around my shoulder.

  She found the bump on my collarbone, making me feel self-conscious as hell. “Does this hurt?” she asked.

  I shook my head. She smelled nice. Like coffee, and sweeter things. I sucked in a breath, trying to identify her scent.

  “Hurt?” she asked.

  “No. It feels good.” Her exploration had evolved into a sort of massage, moving my arm this way and that, rubbing along the tight tendons.

  I let my eyes close, just feeling her. Her hands were small, but strong and deft, her nails short. She seemed to have a sixth sense about the location of the knots, the stiff and tender areas, and exactly how hard to press.

  “You live nearby?” she asked.

  “Next door.”

  “Oh yeah? Upstream or down?”

  “Down. I’m visiting my brothers.”

  “The guy you tripped in the bar was one of your brothers?” she asked.

  I glanced up at her. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised she recognized me. “Yeah.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “He was being an ass.”

  She cracked a little grin. “How long you staying?” she asked.

  “Haven’t decided yet.”

  “Ah. Here, lemme see how far—” She lifted my arm up until I tensed. Then she held it there as her thumbs got intimate with my armpit. “Have you been doing exercises?”

  “Not—” My breath hissed, because damn, she knew how to bring the pain. “—lately.”

  “Well, why not?” she demanded.

  If it hadn’t been her, if she’d been some random physical therapist—a man—I would have yelled. Instead, I blew out a breath, and looked away.

  She was silent, waiting. Digging at my shoulder in a way that would’ve made a lesser man cry, but also waiting.

  “I was, at first,” I explained. “But I reinjured it. I lost all the ground I gained, and then some. I’ve been out of commission for months.”

  “All right, well, I’m going to help you,” she said, holding my gaze.

  My pride was suspicious of her offer. The rest of me wanted her company, her hands on me. I desperately wanted to get better, to feel whole again, to fight again. I doubted it would happen, but I hadn’t lost all hope… yet.

  Her offer was tempting, but I needed to know she wasn’t making it out of pity.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Why do I want to help you?” she asked. “Do I need a reason to want to help someone?”

  I returned her look, waiting.

  She tilted her head. “Because… my birds might need to be put back up.”

  “I got them up there the first time,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, but you could do it faster and more easily with the ability to lift both arms over your head.” It was a load of crap, but she was smiling at me, and her smile was a powerful thing, indeed.

&nb
sp; “How much is this help gonna cost me?” I asked, glancing up at the board where I’d noticed massage services listed next to the drinks. Chair and table massages were advertised in dark pink chalk. Over a dollar a minute, both of them. “I don’t think I can afford you.”

  She followed my gaze, pursed her lips. “I could do it for free.”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, then, we’ll make some sort of deal.”

  “Barter?” That was a common way of doing business in the bush, though I didn’t have a lot to offer her.

  “Sure. Now, here. Let me show you some exercises, and then I’ll want to see you again tomorrow. Deal?”

  Finally, I nodded. “Deal.”

  I didn’t know if it was because I’d just been rubbed down by a beautiful—albeit married, dammit!—woman and was cheered at the thought of seeing Thea again, or because my couch/TV/PlayStation still weren’t back, or because I didn’t want to sleep in the shed anymore, but, in any case, when I got back from the neighbor’s, I decided to help with the Jeep.

  I got some breakfast, went out to the shop, and stopped just inside the door. There was the vehicle my brothers were quickly and efficiently defacing—they were perched on it like a couple oversized gremlins—but it was what sat to its left that held my attention: a complete home gym. Punching bag, free weights, the whole nine yards, commercial quality.

  I mentally reviewed what’d been said last night. “You bought me a weight set?”

  “Well, it’s not really yours,” Zack said. “But you’re more than welcome to use it.”

  “You here to help?” Rory asked. He tossed something at me.

  I managed to catch it before it nailed me in the head. It was the binder. I grunted in answer, finally taking a good look at the vehicle they were working on.

  It was a Jeep. A shiny, cherry-red—

  “2017 Jeep Wrangler,” Rory said proudly. “Brand new, four-wheel drive, off-road package, all the options.”

  I almost dropped the binder. “What is that doing here?”