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FUTURE RISK

Page 9

by MEGAN MATTHEWS


  The rumble of a heavy exhaust has me turning my head, but the plywood covers my window, blocking my ability to see what’s going on outside the bakery. Since delivering the exorbitantly large number of doughnuts, cupcakes, and chocolate cake Monday morning, the bikers and their truck haven’t been back.

  Not to be outdone, Bennett, Ridge, and at least three other guys in the security firm brought over enough sandwich material to feed the town until the end of the month. This has to be the first time in history testosterone-filled men have had a pissing contest over baked goods.

  The bike sounds die off, but not because they fade away in the distance. No, the sounds cut off quickly from the stopping of an engine. This can’t be good. The bell over the door chimes and I plaster on my “spend money here” smile. I’m starting to hate that bell.

  When the door closes, two gruff, bearded bikers stand in front of my display case. “Cup of coffee to go,” the taller of the two orders.’

  Can you take coffee to go on a motorcycle?

  The second, with Spider written on his vest, takes longer, his eyes scanning the different sugary treats I perfected in the display case. “A cup of green tea for me, actually.”

  “Really, fucker. You’re going to take a tea back to the compound?”

  “Jacey says it’s healthier.”

  The taller of the two laughs, but it has a mean tint to it. “You really have let that woman cut off your balls. Does she carry them around in her purse?”

  All righty then. I busy myself making the coffee and green tea, not about to get involved in what Jacey is carrying around in her purse.

  “Uh-oh,” Tabitha slides up next to me and whispers. “Spencer won’t like watching this on the cameras.” She smiles, like she actually enjoys the thought. She steals the coffee pot from me and waves me away, the smile never dwindling. “Let’s time them?”

  There’s nothing else for me to do except turn around and face the bikers. The same overdone smile is plastered on my face when I do.

  “It looks like a pink fairy took a shit in here,” the tallest one says, his eyes scanning the room and his nose crinkling higher and higher with each sweep.

  “So what brings you boys in?” Great, Anessa. When will I learn to not engage?

  “Dom said we should make sure and patronize local businesses,” Spider says, his voice lifting on the word patronize. “Especially the new ones.” He flicks a piece of his blond hair away from his face.

  “Ahhh.” Yup, not less awkward now. I wonder what they think of their boss telling them to buy something at a little pink bakery. From the way the taller one grimaces every time his eye hits a piece of the décor, he may not have known what to expect until he walked in.

  Tabitha passes over the white Styrofoam to-go cup with what better be the best tasting coffee she’s ever poured. Next comes the tea.

  Everything is going smoothly until my eye catches what she hands over the counter to Spider. The green tea isn’t delivered in a Styrofoam cup, but a cute dainty tea saucer covered in purple little flowers and a matching cup.

  Spider takes one look at the flowery cup with matching plate and backs away from my counter. “Oh, fuck no. Give me a coffee. Black. In a to-go cup.”

  His tall friend cracks up, his boisterous laughter filling the empty space. I flash Tabitha my best what-the-hell look, but it does not faze her at all.

  She simply lifts her shoulders in a shrug and says, “What? He didn’t say to go.” She turns around to make the coffee as I stand smiling like a moron. My stomach is tight and my eyes glance to the boarded up front window, preparing to make a dive for the floor again if someone else starts shooting. The last time someone associated with Dom was here it didn’t end well.

  The bell dings and this time I’m absolutely sure I hate it. The stupid thing has to go. It’s like my own little mood music to trouble. The two bikers don’t turn see who walks in, but I’m sure the look of shock and horror on my face is enough to give them a clue when Bennett stops a few feet from them. Without a word he steps to the side and turns his body toward the two waiting bikers, observing the scene.

  “Here you go, boys.” Tabitha passes over the large white Styrofoam container with an overly happy smile. She checks the nonexistent watch on her left wrist. “Good timing.”

  Bennett crosses his arms, still not saying a word.

  The two bikers don’t seem fazed even if my heart is about to give out.

  In fact, the only person in this restaurant freaking out… is me.

  That is until the door chimes again. “Of course,” Tabitha says standing with her hands on her hips. Apparently it’s not so funny to her when it’s her man staring her down.

  Spider and his friend turn and walk out but not before a quick promise they’d see us tomorrow.

  No one moves until the door comes to a complete close. When it does Bennett steps forward. “No,” he says, his arms still crossed.

  “What? They’re paying customers.”

  “They eat at Buddy’s. My girl doesn’t serve any man who answers to Spider.”

  I roll my eyes. Who sounds like the alpha macho man now? “I serve people who pay,” I cross my own arms over my chest so my stance matches everyone else’s. When in Rome and all that.

  “Uh-oh. Well… I’ll be in the kitchen. Bye.” Tabitha doesn’t waste a second leaving me here to defend myself all alone. It’s less than one second later before Ridge follows her into the back space, his eyes never leaving her butt as she walks through the swinging doors.

  Bennett drops his hands, a smile forming on his lips. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer with a shrug. Why does anything have to be done with me?

  He saunters up to the counter, leaning across the top to get closer, and gives me a kiss on the cheek. His palms leave fingerprints on the smooth metal surface, but I don’t even care. I’d let him leave fingerprints on all the glass if it meant he was here kissing me.

  “How about a date?” he asks.

  “A date?” Kind of feels like we’re a little past the dating stage even though we’ve never had an official one.

  Bennett nods. “We’ve never gone on a date. We should.”

  Little butterflies start up in my stomach. Half of them are excited about what a date with Bennett will be like. The other half are petrified about what a date with Bennett will be like.

  “Sure.”

  He backs away when Ridge leaves the kitchen, the doors swinging behind him as he saunters out. Thank God enough time hasn’t passed for me to be worried what they’ve done back there. I should probably sanitize it all again just to be safe. You never know.

  Bennett gives me one more kiss, this one on the lips, lasting longer and in front of his boss. “Good, pack a pair of hiking boots.”

  Hiking boots?

  Without any other explanation like what kind of date requires hiking boots, he and Ridge walk out the front door without another word.

  “Me thinks someone is in love.” Tabitha holds one of the swinging doors open staring after the guys.

  “Who? You?”

  She laughs. “No.”

  With a hand to my chest, I innocently guess again. “Me?”

  Love? No. Deep infatuation, maybe.

  She shakes her head. “No, Bennett.” Turning back into the kitchen, she lets the door slip between her fingers, cutting us off from one another.

  What does she mean Bennett’s in love?

  “Tabitha! Come back here.” There is no way she gets to make that comment and then walk out without explaining.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Another minute flicks past on the digital readout in Bennett’s truck. We’ve been driving for well over two hours, and the conversation is light and easy. The two of us are swapping stories of different memories in our lifetimes. Bennett’s mostly revolve around the foibles of learning to raise his son and mine more often than not include a baking mishap. It’s perfectly us.
/>   It’s a steady flow of chitchat back and forth, but now as Bennett’s truck turns off the expressway and he peers out the window, obviously looking for our final destination, the cab goes silent. Dead bug carcasses dirty up his front window, but one particular gushy one is driving me insane. I want to lean over and turn on his windshield wipers to wash the green slime away.

  “Are we there yet?” I ask in a totally annoying-child-on-a-long-car-trip voice, but it saves me the embarrassment of turning on his wipers when he isn’t looking. Bennett is not ready to know how crazy I am about being clean. I’m doing both of us a favor. I follow his eyes out the window to catch where he looks, but all I notice is a bunch of trees.

  Bennett shakes his head. “Maybe.”

  “Where are we going?” I mean, come on. He asked me to wear hiking boots. Granted I haven’t been on a ton of dates, but none of them have ever had that particular requirement.

  He laughs, never taking his eyes off the road. “I’m still not telling.”

  At first I thought we were headed to Arcadia National Park. It’s on my list of places to see while living in Maine, but after getting on the highway, we quickly turned in the opposite direction. We traveled south from Pelican Bay along the coast. It’s been a beautiful drive, but it hasn’t given me any help as to where we are or where we’re going.

  An unknown object pings off the windshield diverting my attention that way. There are so many dead bugs it’s impossible to tell which one is new.

  “Ah, here we are.” Bennett turns the truck into in an area full of overgrown weeds and small trees saplings.

  “A canoe launch?” I ask, reading the sign as we drive past it.

  I don’t know why I ask. There’s a canoe in the back of his truck. I asked about it when he picked me up this morning, but now that I think about it Bennett never answered me about why it’s back there. I suppose in my excitement of getting to wherever we are, I decided it was normal for men in Maine to drive around with canoes. My cousin, Roy, drives around with piles of sandbags in his truck’s bed during the winter months. Who am I to judge?

  “What did you think we were going to do with the canoe?” Bennett asks popping his tailgate down.

  I spend longer thinking about my next question than I probably should. “… Canoe?”

  Bennett laughs. “Yes, we’re going canoeing.”

  “For real?”

  This time he looks at me as if I’ve completely lost my mind. One side of his face pinches together while the other is high in surprise, and has a whole Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson feel to it. “Have you ever been canoeing before?”

  Bennett pulls the canoe from the back of the truck, the front-end jarring when it hits the ground.

  I tap my nails on the side. “No.”

  One time in high school my best friend, Stephanie Jackson, and I got drunk in a canoe. But the long boat never actually left the ground.

  “You’ll love it.” He slams the tailgate shut after flinging a backpack over his shoulder.

  With one end of the canoe in his hand Bennett walks to the water. I follow behind much more tentatively than when I first got out of the truck. “Do you need my help?”

  “Nope, you just keep looking pretty.” Bennett drags the canoe behind him, plopping it on the ground on a weedy section of land I wouldn’t even call a beach, but it’s an area where the ocean meets sand. “Okay, hop in.”

  “In the canoe?”

  Just the tiniest part of the front sticks in the water. If I get in now, will he have to push the canoe and my body into the ocean? He’ll figure out exactly how much I weigh!

  There’s no way I’m getting in that canoe.

  “There’s a life jacket at the front of the boat for you. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I don’t see how you get the canoe in the water if I’m sitting in it.”

  Bennett chuckles. “Is that what you’re worried about? Flour, you weigh like a buck ten. I’ve got this.”

  My mouth drops open in annoyance. I do not weigh a “buck ten.” I weigh at least a hundred and thirty-seven last time I stepped on a scale. When I can go more than a few days without sampling my own products, it’s one thirty-five. Regardless, now I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  I can’t argue with him about weighing more because…well then he’d know I weigh more. And no woman in the history of womanhood has ever admitted to a man she weighs more than whatever number he guessed. If I did, someone would be sure to revoke my woman card.

  Actually, do women even have women cards? I don’t think so.

  I’m about to argue, no longer fearful of getting in trouble for my actions, when Bennett pushes the canoe a little farther into the water with his foot. “There, now hop in.”

  I don’t necessarily hop in anywhere. Me getting into Bennett’s canoe is about as graceful as a drunk water skier. The ugly brown life jacket snaps around my chest and I tighten the straps so well I lose the ability to breathe deeply. Bennett, with a giant heave, pushes the canoe into the water. My hands scramble to find the edges and I hold on with a death grip as he runs toward the water and then jumps into the boat while it rocks back and forth. A little water spills over the edge on one tip and I silently pray we’re in a sea-worthy vessel.

  I squeal but try and keep any threats against his life to myself as the boat dips in and out of the water. Bennett takes his time and settles in, fastening his own life jacket, obviously unconcerned with tipping over.

  The boat finally stops bobbing and I release my grip, but only by a small amount. There’s no way I’m letting go. “Are we canoeing somewhere?”

  Bennett points to some spot directly behind me. “See that little area back there?”

  I twist around as slowly as possible so I don’t move the boat too far to one side. A mile or so behind me — I’ve never been great with judging distance — looks to be a small island. Green trees or other shrubs mark out a small section in the horizon. “Yeah.”

  “That’s where we’re going.” Bennett resumes paddling with the oars he brought along.

  “That’s it?” He won’t give me another hint. An island?

  He shakes his head laughing. “Fine, you made it this far. That tiny island is called Fort Gorges. Back in the 1800s the military built a fort on the lands. It boasted top-of-the-line technology, but then somebody went and designed a long-range gun and made the forts obsolete. It was never used.”

  “Great example of government overspending,” I murmur under my breath and twist back around to keep my eye on the green island as we get closer.

  “Fort Gorges is a prime example of how our government works,” Bennett laughs and splashes the paddle deep into the water. “Now, it’s a park. I figured we’d have a picnic.”

  I whip my head back around. “You packed a picnic for me?”

  “Yup. Liam helped, so some of our choices are rather interesting.”

  “If this is a park, why did I need hiking boots?” I wait for Bennett to answer and slide back around to face him. I’d rather watch him paddle us to his little island than the beautiful view behind me.

  “Well… I said it was a park. I didn’t say anyone mowed it.”

  That sounds scary and like he’s hiding something, but I’m already in the boat and wearing the boots so there’s not much I can do about it now. I’m at his mercy out here. He could tell me the island is infested with man-eating clowns and there wouldn’t be much I could do to get away.

  “Have you been here before?” I ask.

  He hesitates with his answer and I immediately start thinking he has been here but he doesn’t want to admit it because he was here with a girl. And then my mind goes really crazy and starts picturing this girl. Was it Liam’s mother? Bennett has a picture of a blonde-haired woman holding Liam in front of a birthday cake, a big number two candle on top. Bennett stands behind her looking down at the two of them with a smile. Even though they were never a traditional family, they all look so happy
. I tried my best to put the picture out of my mind, but at this particular moment the fact Liam’s mom was gorgeous is not lost on me.

  Which then makes me feel about two inches tall because who gets jealous over what Bennett did in the past? Especially when Liam lost his mom. Thank goodness my grandma isn’t here to hear my thoughts. She’d be pulling out her rosary.

  Bennett paddles more to the left turning us in a direction to the far part of the island. “Yeah, we used to do special nighttime training in the park after they’d closed down for the night.”

  See Anessa? You’re crazy.

  He goes back to paddling, none the wiser he’s sitting in a canoe with a crazy person. I laugh in my own head to deal with my shame. I’ve never been a particularly jealous person, but I also don’t want Bennett to have dated anyone else before me. Especially someone pretty.

  A few minutes pass as Bennett continues the battle against the waves, and I attempt to stare at him without being caught. I’m in the midst of comparing his bright green eyes to the color of spring grass when he jerks. His hand points out to the island.

  “Turn around. You don’t want to miss this.”

  “Oh, right.” I twist my body half way, my butt never lifting off the canoe seat. When I can no longer hold on to the edges of the boat, I hurry to move the rest of the way. And I’m glad I risk my life for the view.

  The canoe gets closer and closer to the island Bennett pointed out, but as my eyes adjust I’m able to see it’s not just any island. The island is the fort. The whole thing. From the way we approach, giant stone walls reach up toward the sky. Two sets of windows with one on top of the other spaced perfectly apart line the tall structure. The green trees that were visible from afar are not actually on the island, but growing on top of the Fort. The bricks of the front wall jet up right out of the water without an entrance in sight. I have no idea how Bennett and I will make it onto the actual fort for this picnic. There is no door or docking point.

  Bennett turns the canoe again as he guides us around the imposing structure. “Isn’t she amazing?”

  “Uh-huh.” I nod my head unable to give a better response as my eyes follow every rock, and brick structure created by this amazing fort. Rivers of red rust lines run down from the windows in what was once a modern giant in construction. Yet on top of the stone structure, the lush green overgrowth bridges two worlds together. One of strength in hard concrete and the other, nature as she works to take back her land.

 

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