Fall: Montgomery Men #3

by Harms, C. A.

  “But we are, right?” I hide my smile when she rolls her eyes at me.

  “Of course we are.” Waving her hand, she steps around me and begins walking to the nearest empty tall table.

  This place is elegant, and classy. I feel completely out of place here, wondering if my choice of attire only makes me stand out even more. I’m wearing a simple black dress, cut low in the front, and a pair of strappy heels to match, but each purchased from a second-hand store where I am a frequent customer. I feel so worn and outdated.

  “What can I get you ladies?” A tall man with blond spiked hair steps up to our table. I shoot Nora a questioning glance, an eyebrow cocked, and my head tilted slightly. In return, she gives me a simple shake, answering my silent question. This is not the mystery guy she is now after.

  “I’ll take a vodka and cranberry.” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the table, looking around the spacious bar.

  “Okay, so casually look toward the bar, and when I say casually, I don’t mean stare.” I want to laugh at how ridiculous Nora is being, but I don’t. Instead I look to my right, then slowly scan to my left, observing the bartender who is completely oblivious to us at this point. Tall, dark, and somewhat good-looking, I’ll give her that. His nose is a little crooked, an indication that it may have been broken. He looks up, offering a sly grin to the woman in front of him before placing her drink on the bar, then moves on to the next customer.

  “Cute,” I say, twisting back in her direction. “Sorta reminds me of a rocker type, definitely doesn’t fit this place.”

  “He plays in a band.” Nora grins widely. “He’s also a volunteer at the homeless shelter on Sundays and does the maintenance there for free.”

  “An all-around good guy versus bad boy.” I shrug. It’s not really my thing; I’m more the strong, confident type. But for now, I have no type because I’ve sworn off men. I can’t say if or when I will ever be ready to put myself out there again. I keep falling back to the same place each time I consider it, that place where I allowed myself to be consumed by one man so deeply that I was trapped in a world where I didn't belong. In the end I paid the price, and I'm still paying it. Each time I close my eyes I relive it. Every touch, every panted breath, those noises of that night ringing out in my mind. It was ugly, and I wished more than anything I could let it all go. But I can’t.

  Our conversation is interrupted by our waiter returning with our drinks. I ignore the wink he offers me as he leans in a little close before asking if there is anything else he could get us.

  I hear Nora snicker, and I narrow my eyes at her once the eager beaver steps back and finds his rightful place behind the bar. “Hello,” she drums her fingers on the table, “did you miss the fact that our waiter was hitting on you?"

  “No, I picked up on that. I’m just not interested.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I understand whether I agree or not she would continue. “I've known you for close to a year now, and I don’t think I have ever seen you go on even one date. I have, however watched you turn down various guys, so what gives? Are you into girls?” She says this far too loud, and I cringe when I see a few men around us glance in our direction. “I'm so okay if you are. It's not my thing but hey, to each their own, ya know.”

  “I’m not into girls.” I lift my drink and take a generous gulp. I hadn’t planned on drinking much but I could already sense that tonight called for it. She is nervous, which I already know from experience leads to her talking excessively. I guess tonight I’m the subject she’s chosen to focus on. “I just don’t have the desire to date.” My answer leaves her skeptical.

  “Are you telling me that not even one of the many are of interest to you?”

  I’ve kept my life private for the most part. Everyone sees me as an ice queen in regard to men. I know I can trust her, but I just am not quite ready to dive into my past, at least in great detail. “I had a really shitty relationship before I came here. The guy was an obsessive freak, and let’s just say that he sorta killed my need for male attention.”

  “Did he hit you or something?”

  I could feel my chest growing tight, and my hands becoming sweaty. “Or something,” I offer and avert my gaze, practically begging for any form of distraction at this point.

  “Nora.” I look toward the bar and see her tall, dark-haired love interest smiling back at her. A sense of relief washes over me in waves and I say a silent thank you that she would forget all about our current conversation.

  She is like a giddy girl dancing in her seat when he moves around the end of the bar and walks to our table. That is exactly how I don't want to be—so dependent on a guy’s attention that I'm completely lost to everything around me. I can’t lose me, not again.

  We’ve been here for close to an hour, and have since moved to a space closer to the bar. Ryan, the dreamy guy Nora is drooling over is now spending all his free time at our end of the bar. He and Nora are lost in conversation, leaving me feeling like a third wheel, until I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder. Spinning around, almost knocking my drink over, I come face to face with Holly, another friend from school.

  “You scared the hell out of me.” I try to tame my racing heart and hang my head as I give myself a pep talk. I am always on edge, it seems. Holly laughs and nudges my hip with hers before stepping up to the bar and leaning over the edge. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

  The blond guy who was flirting with me earlier tosses Holly a grin and hurries off to fix her a drink like it’s some type of race. The way he continues to watch her while doing so makes me aware that he’d picked up on my dismissal.

  The Ice Queen scores again.

  The drink is placed on the bar top, she offers him a flirtatious nod with a matching “come hither” smirk, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. She turns her back and proceeds to tell both Nora and I how she just left some party where her ex was all over a dirty blonde. She is on the prowl it seems, in full swing to replace the hurt she is feeling with something else. I assume she’s looking for the first guy willing to offer himself as tribute.

  “Here ya go.” I look over my shoulder to see another vodka and cranberry setting before me.

  “I didn’t order this.”

  “No,” Ryan confirms, “he did.” He points toward the end of the bar, and suddenly I feel like I can’t catch my breath. It’s the guy from the reception.

  Chapter Six

  Knoxville

  She is like a deer caught in headlights, frozen and staring at me, unsure what her next move should be. I can sense her uncertainty. Her hands are both palm down on the bar top, her gaze locked with mine. Fuck, she is beautiful, more alluring than I remember. Her hair is down tonight, much different from the way she had it piled up on top of her head at Ashton’s reception, but I knew without a doubt it was her. From the second the door opened and I saw her step inside the bar, my body was humming and my heart racing.

  I can’t tell if she wants to run out of here so fast like her ass is on fire, or walk over to me, but I choose to not give her the chance to go with option one. I stand from the bar, grab my drink, and begin walking toward her, not once taking my eyes off the blonde beauty. She still doesn’t move; she continues to stare at the place I occupied only moments ago, almost as if she remained perfectly still, I’d forget about her being there and continue to walk right past her. Slim chance at that.

  “Hello again,” I offer in a soft whisper, leaning in at her side. She flinches slightly at my closeness. “Fancy meeting you here.” The second the words leave my mouth I want to kick myself. Jesus, fuck, what is wrong with me?

  Slowly, almost alluringly, though I’m not sure it’s what she is going for, she turns to face me. My throat tightens and well, my jeans too. Forget beautiful, this woman was a god damn goddess.

  “If it isn’t the guy with the cheesy pickup lines.” There is no trace of a smile on her lips. I remember the bartender from the reception telling me how she is a ball buster,
and that should frighten me. But it doesn’t, not even a little.

  “If it isn’t the woman with the gorgeous legs and sharp tongue.”

  When she shakes her head, I can’t help the chuckle that falls from my lips. She is most definitely something.

  “I didn't ask for another drink.”

  “Looked as though you were getting a little low.” She continues to stare me down, showing no signs of breaking. What she doesn’t know about me is that I’d spent years playing a role in my profession. The role of a hard ass, though it looks incredibly sexy on her, is one I am also accustomed to.

  “You got something against a guy buying a pretty lady a drink?”

  “Everything comes with a price.” She steps back, creating space between us and I fight the urge to reach out and pull her back to me. “It starts with a drink, and the next thing you know, expectations are set forth and it leaves us both in an awkward position.”

  “What position is that?"

  “You expecting me to offer myself as a thank you and me having to tell you that there isn't a chance in hell anything will be taking place between us.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t be so turned on by her attitude, but it was uncontrollable. Damn, she was a fireball.

  “Just a drink, Tinley.” She flinches when I said her name, though I ignored it. “I don't expect anything in return.”

  “Tinley…” A small blonde beside her leans in close and though I think she meant to whisper, I hear her clearly. “Are you kidding me right now? That guy is insanely good-looking, and you're just dismissing him like he’s some kind of an ogre."

  The blonde looks over at me and smiles widely, batting her eyelashes in that way drunk woman do when they are trying to flirt. “If he was checking me out the way he is checking you out, I would take him up on that offer. But something tells me he has no interest in just any girl, it’s solely in you.”

  “Holly,” Tinley says in warning, and again I chuckle.

  “I’m just saying.” Her eyes roam over me from head to toe and she fakes a shiver. “Girl, he is one helluva a man, there is no boy in him,” she says, pausing on my dick and suddenly I want to cover myself. “Nope, no boy at all,” she repeats and Tinley nudges her away.

  “You need a refill, Knox?” Ryan asks and I offer him nothing more than a simple head shake.

  “Last time we ran into one another I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself.” Tinley remains quiet and perfectly on guard. “My name is Knoxville.” I hold out my hand and watch as her gaze shifts toward it. “My friends call me Knox.”

  “We aren’t friends.”

  “No, we aren’t,” I agreed, “but it’s my opinion that one can never have too many friends.”

  “I’m not a friendly person.” I stare at her as I lower my hand down to my side, sure there is no chance in hell she is going to shake mine.

  “You know what I think?” I wait for her to reply and she says nothing, just waits silently for me to continue. “I think that this cold, withdrawn side of you is just an act. I don’t think you’re who you’re pretending to be.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “True, I don’t.” I nod, lifting my glass and emptying the last of its contents, the ice clinking against the side as I lower it and place it onto the bar. “I hope you and your friends have a good night.” I look up to find Tinley watching me closely, her eyebrows scrunched up in the center. “Be safe and if you’re unable to drive, call a cab.” I reach inside the pocket of my jacket and pulled out one of my cards. “Or call me. I promise that I don’t have any intentions of taking advantage of you.” I fight the smirk that is tugging at my lips. Truth is I’d love nothing more than to pound the iciness right out of her, to see her melt beneath me and look up at me with those eyes of hers.

  I offer her my card and when she doesn't take it, I place it on the counter next to her glass. “Later, Ryan.,” I lift my hand in a wave and step around Tinley, hearing all the guys behind me say their goodbyes. Clyde’s is a place I visited often. It is a quiet establishment, none of the loud pumping music and wild drunken customers. I prefer the quiet and relaxed atmosphere. It is a great place to unwind after a day of dealing with people like Mrs. Hallows. Usually I left with a mellow feel, but tonight I am wound tighter than I’d been in months.

  Chapter Seven

  Tinley

  Knoxville Montgomery, Licensed Private Investigator.

  I sit on the end of my bed, still holding his card in my hand, long after I’d been home. I listened to both Holly and Nora lecture me on letting my guard down and taking a chance. That man was dreamy, he was so into you, blah blah.

  I just wish it was that easy, like flipping a switch and letting go of my past.

  There is no doubt Knoxville is attractive. Okay fine…he is much more than simply attractive. But there is still that nagging feeling inside me that makes me put up my defenses. It is like a fortress around my heart, screaming Back away! whenever a man shows any amount of interest. Knoxville is intriguing, with a strong jaw, a powerful stance, and those eyes. Eyes I swear that can melt any woman’s resolve.

  Then there is his deep masculine voice, a calm whisper that runs through me like a cold shiver. It is hard to remain in full control because a huge part of me wants to take him up on his offer to share a drink. Maybe more.

  I place the card onto the mattress at my side and slide backward on my bed, resting against the headboard. I sit in the quiet, listening to the sounds of the streets below through my slightly open window. My mind bounces around to the past and the present. Flashbacks of me, young and vulnerable, and today, the woman I am now.

  Reaching to the stand next to my bed, I grab my phone and dial my mother’s number. With each ring I grow more desperate to hear her voice, suddenly feeling more lost than I have in weeks.

  “Well, this is a sweet surprise.” My mother’s cheery voice brought tears to my eyes, reminding me of how much I miss her and somehow grounding me, which was what I needed. “How is my girl doing?”

  “Good.” I try to wipe the uneasiness from my voice. “Just getting in after a night out with the girls and decided to call my favorite people. How are Dad and Tripp?”

  “Tripp got himself a new girlfriend, so we hardly see him, and you know your father, he’s always got something going on. Now he’s decided to redo the inside of the garage, all these fancy shelving units to hold all the junk he doesn’t even need.” I can almost imagine her rolling her eyes at the idea. “But it keeps him out of my space so whatever works, I guess.”

  A hardworking man never rests, and that’s my father. He is a busy man; the old saying “if it’s not broke then don't fix it” does not apply to my dad. He can’t sit still, so even when things don’t need attention he still goes full throttle. They don’t make men like him anymore, at least not in my experience.

  “What’s Tripp’s girlfriend like?” My brother goes through women like most people go through gallons of milk. It is truly exhausting trying to keep up with his latest love interest.

  “We haven’t heard much about this one yet, but he’s been with her pretty much daily for the last few weeks so I figure it’ll wear off soon.” I continue the conversation with my mother, seeking the comfort I need from her.

  We laugh, and she tells me about Ethel, the sweet neighbor who has no filter. Apparently, Ethel has gone and snagged herself a cute little friend, and from what Mom says, she exchanges more details than necessary about her time spent with her new man.

  “Can you believe that she got herself a membership with Adam and Eve?” I cover my mouth to hide my laughter. “She gets a new package every week, and finds it very important to not only show me her new toys, but to show them to your father, too.”

  “Oh my god.” Tears fill my eyes, only this time they are from laughter.

  “There your father is, standing at the end of the driveway holding a seven-inch bright purple dildo, and Ethel flips a switch. His eyes widened in horror when it star
ted vibrating around in his hand. Never in all our years have I seen him so pale and uncomfortable.”

  After another ten minutes of horrifying yet funny stories of Ethel and her sex toy shenanigans we say our goodbyes, but not before Mom expresses her concern for me being here alone without any family. She’s subtle, of course, but one thing about my mother—she gets her point across even if it only takes a few words.

  Curious about my brother’s new girl, I pull out my laptop and decide to do a little investigative work of my own. I begin scrolling through Facebook, smiling at the photos on many of my friends’ feeds.

  Finally finding Tripp’s page, I stop instantly as I look at the newest photo he is tagged in. He’s sitting in what looks like someone’s back yard, a fire near, nearly everyone holding beer bottles. But it’s the person sitting in his lap who gains my full attention.

  Naomi.

  We haven’t talked in months, and that is my fault. When I left home, I left her behind too. It wasn’t fair to her, but she reminded me of that night. She reminded me of a time I had to forget. Things grew strange with us, she didn’t know what to say to me, and I didn't say anything at all. Not just to Naomi, but not to anyone. I hated the looks everyone gave me and the whispers behind my back. It was all too much.

  She looks so happy with Tripp’s arm wrapped around her waist almost possessively. A part of me feels saddened by the idea that my brother hasn’t shared with me who he is seeing. She and I were best friends growing up, and now here she is dating my brother. A bigger part of me is happy for them, though, because even I’d noticed how they used to look at each other whenever they were close—the constant flirting or longing stares. I guess it was just a matter of time.

  I hope things work out for them. Maybe she’d be the one to stick, the girl who finally makes my brother decide to settle down.