Love On Tap : A Wounded Hearts Second Chance Romance (Love By Design Book 8)

by M. C. Cerny

  19

  Andy

  “So is there a reason why we’re hanging out at a bar in Albany instead of at home in the one practically in our backyard?”

  “Research.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Hunter sipped his beer putting it down on the polished counter gently so as not to click the glass on the surface.

  “I needed a night out.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. I don’t think I’ve known you to take a break from anything since buying out your dad in the bar.”

  “I had to get away but I didn’t want to either.”

  “I know things have been difficult. Have you thought about just letting her go?”

  “It’s harder than I think. I could push her away but it’s like a rubber ball in a closed off room. She comes back and just hits me harder each time.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you want to let go then.”

  “No, but I also don’t know how to keep her from knocking us both out.”

  “I don’t think you can. I think sometimes you keep getting back up no matter what and let it ride.”

  “I loved her then.”

  “Andi, you never stopped and that’s okay. Just don’t let yourself suffer too much.”

  20

  Sierra

  “Where are you taking me?” I tugged my hand and Andy’s lips quirked upward as he tugged me back gently. He could be secretive when he wanted to be and I knew that he wouldn’t tell me anything unless he wanted too–especially now. The level of trust between us was still new, raw, and not yet tested in the way that would ensure his confidence in me. That was the penance I silently agreed to pay when I didn’t share my own secrets with this beautiful man.

  “I am taking you somewhere that I’ve always wanted to take you.” He hummed and opened the door to his car. So we weren’t taking his motorcycle. Interesting. That didn’t narrow my options on ideas any further. Instead it broadened them and so my anxiety bubbled as the car engine purred to life.

  “Not even a little hint? A teeny tiny one?” I wasn’t above pleading but just like our newfound relationship was on shaky ground, my pouted lip didn’t faze him one bit. I could have been a small puppy, shivering wet and starving, Andy Easton wasn’t budging. If anything, my plea made him chuckle and I huffed sinking further down in my seat.

  “Don’t worry little firefly, today is going to be fun. Relax. Enjoy the drive and if you’re hungry, I picked up some pastries from Carmen earlier.” Andy reached into the backseat of the car and pulled out a white bakery bag to hand me. I took the bag and rumpled the paper opening it up to a bevy of sweet smells that reminded me of my grandmother’s warm kitchen.

  “Bribery will only get you so far, sir.” I mocked dipping my nose deeper into the bag inhaling the sugary sweetness of chocolate croissants and fresh fried beignets.

  Andy chuckled and focused on the highway in front of us. It was rare for him to leave town and the bar mostly unattended, but I guessed with David managing things and Remington filling in all would be well in hand.

  “You haven’t said much about the vineyard.” He commented passing a large truck that was doing fifty in a six-five zone.

  “I’m not sure what more there is to say. You want me to let it go and I haven’t figured out what’s best.” I picked at my nail unnerved that he waited to trap me in a moving vehicle for this conversation but I was willing to wait it out. He couldn’t drive forever.

  “I didn’t mean that.” Andy glanced over at me for a second and then back to the road. His eyes were shaded by sunglasses and unreadable. “I meant it just hasn’t surfaced in conversation. I get that the decision will be hard either way, but I want you to know I’m here for you, even if you want to tell me to shut up and mind my own business.” Despite the lack of eye contact his words comforted me.

  I reached for his leg and squeezed him gently. “I appreciate that, Andrew, more than you know.”

  His hand reached for mine entwining our fingers together like that’s where they were meant to be all this time. It was nice in a way that a meal was fulfilling. It was kind. Generous. Things I always knew Andy to be even if I wasn’t in a place to receive that kindness. We settled into the drive

  We drove for about forty-five minutes before he tossed something at me. “What’s this?”

  “Put it on, please. Unless you have a serious objection to blind folds and then I’ll relent.” There it was–that oddly vulnerable request from Andrew that told me he still saw me as a fragile, breakable, mentally unstable thing he had to treat with kid gloves.

  Releasing the breath I’d been holding–because of the surprise awaiting me–not the blindfold, I put it on and tied it tight. I didn’t have to wait long as Andy pulled off the highway and drove a little longer.

  “Alright. We’re here.” I felt him lean over in the car. His breath was warm on my cheek as he gently tugged on the blindfold pulling it off my face. I didn’t register the location right away because I was caught up looking in his eyes. I memorized the black ring around his iris and the pattern of color. Licking my lips I was tempted to reach for him, pull him closer and taste his mouth. Not just his lips, but his tongue, his whole essence and let it sustain my hunger for something good.

  Andy cleared his throat and I watched the color in his cheeks pinken. Heat sparked between us and I pulled back slowly to take in the view of where we were.

  A renaissance fair? What the hell?

  “Andrew?” I asked unsure why we were in place of dreams and fantasies.

  “Go with it firefly.” His nose bumped mine tenderly in a show of affection as he winked. “I even rented costumes for the day.”

  “But?”

  “Come on then.” He backed away from me completely and out of the car. He shut his door and jogged around the car to mine opening it and pulling me out onto my feet. Andrew Easton was a hell of a trickster sometimes. Unpredictable in the most amazing ways.

  I put my hand in his and we walked up the path to the entrance of the park. He must have sprung for the VIP treatment because we were guided off track to a building where costumes had been put aside with changing rooms and lockers. I took the dress handed to me and slipped it on in a state of shock. For many years I had perfected the art of undressing convincing myself it was honest work because I didn’t sleep with my customers. I didn’t finish school. I didn’t have a real vocation. I used my body in a way that suggested one thing while I delivered another. Satisfaction at a cost.

  I looked into the mirror and watched myself erase the last ten years. The modest neckline hinted at my cleavage. The cut of the dress accentuated my slight frame and the flare put a hop into my step that suggested hope and love everlasting. Oh, Andrew Easton was a wizard now magically giving me back something I hadn’t realized I’d lost along the way. He was giving me the opportunity to be a girl again and not the scared jaded woman I was running away. He was offering to slay my dragons and protect me from evils that haunted me still.

  “You fall in there or what?” He said just outside the door.

  “I’m coming, but I don’t think you’ll recognize me.” It was easy to tease him. I opened the door and stepped out twirling in a circle. His arm reached for my waist and pulled me in flush against him. That’s when I realized he was dressed as my counterpart. If I was a princess for a day, then he was my prince.

  “I don’t think I could ever forget you, Sierra.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Let’s have a magical day, shall we?” Andy led me outside into a courtyard where faire revelers were getting underway.

  “There’s no place I’d rather be.” Arm in arm we joined them and for a change, it felt flawless.

  21

  Andy

  Sierra looked beautiful gliding down the dirt trail toward the kissing bridge, but that wasn’t where I wanted to go first. I’d been planning this outing for a decade since I turned eighteen and she seventeen. Over and over in my head did I imagine a day with the sky so blu
e and her hand in mine. I knew that the years in between had been difficult, harsh, and ruined us in very particular ways for anyone else.

  But that was ten years ago and I had was today.

  If Sierra chose to leave town and never turn back again, today would be all I had and I wanted to fill it with as many things as I could squeeze into a twenty-four hour period. I wanted turkey legs, sweet pickles on our breath followed by beer and kissing on the bridge. I wanted to be the knight that curried the Queen’s favor and for Sierra to be my chosen consort. I wanted a castle to keep out all the drama and a never ending night in which to worship her body.

  I wanted to erase the past as much as I wanted to embrace it. And I wanted her to want me with the same fervor our teen selves had unknowing of what the future held.

  I also knew that most of this was impossible. But for now, I had my dream, a VIP pass, and the most beautiful firefly the day had ever seen.

  “So what are we off to do first? Chess match? Pickle on a stick? I don’t even know where to go.” Sierra smiled over her shoulder and I stepped ahead to scan the marketplace.

  “There.” I said pointing at a stall with several women standing behind little girls with long hair. “Hair braiding.”

  Sierra stopped short hesitating. “I don’t know Andy. Those girls look pretty young and I don’t think I’ve had my hair braided since my grandmother.”

  “Then what better time than now?” I guided her toward the stall and plopped her down on a stool in front of a rosy cheeked woman with grey braids at her temples and a toothy grin.

  “What’ll it be love?” She asked running her fingers through Sierra mane of gold and brown hair that glinted in the light like striations of Tiger’s eye.

  “Oh something simple I guess.”

  “That be a right shame. Let’s braid a crown. Fit for a lovely princess.” The woman chuckled and went to work on Sierra’s hair. I could tell sitting still was hard for her, but I wanted today to be a foreplay into the future of how I wanted to tend to her needs and reward her aptly. The woman worked magic taking her time to braid and twist her hair into a crown with ribbons and flowers.

  “Take a look.” She said holding up a large mirror that looked to be something out of a fairy tale.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful.” Her eyes misted over and she stood up turning to hug the woman before reaching for me.

  “I agree.” We walked away from the stall and our legs took us in the direction of the battlefield. Knights on horseback jousted back and forth to a cheering or jeering crowd depending on one’s point of view.

  “I vote for the Green knight.” Sierra pointed at a wizened man on a sleek black horse.

  “He’s the villain in the story. What about the Red knight?” I pointed at the youthful man sitting on top of a chestnut horse with gold and red banners.

  “Too predictable. Everyone will cheer him on.”

  “So we’re looking after the underdog?” Our gazes met and Sierra’s lip pursed like she was thinking this over.

  “Maybe not quite the underdog, I mean no one seems to be cheering for the Blue knight over there.”

  We checked out the guy who sat on top of a dappled grey horse who pawed at the ground waiting his turn.

  “Maybe it’s because he’s a bit unassuming.” I said waiting for her reaction. This conversation felt like we were exploring more than mere knighthood and the games of court.

  She fluffed out her emerald green dress and drew her knees up as we watched the procession of men and horses trot up and down the field. “He looks kind in a rather harsh competition. Even his squire seems uncertain. You’d think one of them would just take over and make it happen. Make him win not matter what.”

  I mused over her answer. Was that me? Was I reading too much into this? Maybe she chose the Green knight because he matched her dress, I didn’t know.

  “Is that what you needed? Back then, for someone to step in and take charge, to keep you safe.” I rolled to my side facing her, tugging on her skirt to look at me. Sierra sighed and laid back on the ground, her elbows propping her up.

  “We were so young. Did anyone know what they really needed?” She flicked a lock of my hair off my forehead and then resumed her watch on the jousting match.

  If only I could have let it go.

  “Would that have made you stay?”

  “Andrew.” Her face pinched tight and she blinked rapidly, but no tears fell. “I wish it had been that simple. I felt so many things and nothing at all. I made so many mistakes and yet I found a justification for each one that made sense. I truly thought I was doing the best thing for you.” Her head turned, tilted downward and I felt the anguish in her expression down to my soul.

  “Can we try to forgive each other.”

  She sat up and reached for me, “on one condition,” she said.

  “Name it.”

  “You feed me a turkey leg and beer.” Her face glowed with a lopsided grin.

  “Firefly, anything.” I urged hoping for a more serious answer only to get none.

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You were my everything and I took that with me where ever I went.”

  I gathered myself to my feet and hauled her up into my arms earning sly looks from several men around us and covetous looks from the women. If I could have her like this forever, I would, but for now–turkey legs and beer it would be.

  We feasted a bit savagely biting our oversized drumsticks and feeding each other meaty portions off the bone. Sierra giggled and I kissed her greasy lips with mine tasting the smoky meat and bitter tang of beer I hadn’t crafted myself. It was delicious in a primitive way I’d always remember.

  22

  Sierra

  “Oh my god, is that Sierra?” The strange girl I didn’t recall approached me like she might hug me and I wasn’t thrilled with being close to anyone I didn’t know. I had a hard time hanging out with the girls because their boyfriends were best friends with Andy and I only touched upon their lives a few times ten years ago.

  “How are you?” She asked implying something that made my stomach bubble.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been away. Have we met before?” I looked back and forth between Kristen, Taylor, and Lia.

  “Becky. We had a few classes together, but you left suddenly.” She shrugged her shoulder pushing up her very large and very fake boobs in my face. I’d been around the block and enough women in dressing rooms to recognize a boob job when I saw one. I wasn’t judging, but I suspected her fake tits were meant to distract men from her less than stellar personality.

  I grimaced. “I did, that’s correct. Personal reasons.” I sipped my drink slowly and imagined all the ways I could drop it or spit it on her.

  “Is it true you were a stripper?” Her eyes rounded as she loudly whispered my last occupation to the entire bar. I swallowed the drink and the knot in my throat. I wouldn’t have minded nearly so much if she’d been curious, but her tone made it sound like I was a shameful thing and banned from Bingo, and the obligatory church picnic. I’d worked through some of this in my rural Lancaster layover, but I didn’t need to unload my personal shit in a crowded bar on a Saturday night. I didn’t owe her or anyone an explanation.

  So instead of punching her in the mouth and loosening a few of her too perfect, too white teeth like my clenched fist wanted to do, I merely smiled and said, “Actually, it was a burlesque show.”

  I felt more than saw the ladies behind me bristle.

  “That’s the same thing isn’t it? You get naked for money don’t you.”

  I kept swallowing down that humble pie until I was sick of the taste and chuffed, “Different. More entertaining though.” I was about to get up and leave because–again, I was under no obligation to put up with some stranger’s shit when a hand rested on my back and Kristen stepped forward with a presence that would have rivaled Joan of Arc.

  Kristen glared at Becky up and down. Her eyes narrowed as she set her glass down on the bar prepping to fight.
Time slowed for a second as her drink sloshed over the rim of the glass. The tension in the air thickened to oil and venom as she unleashed her claws. “Oh look, it’s cheap vodka and regret, I knew I smelled you Becky.”

  Becky barked out a hollow laugh practically rolling her eyes out loud. These two had history, I didn’t know what but the show was going to be fun to watch. “Oh Kristen, always the comedian. How are your therapy sessions coming along.” She twirled her hand and a ring with a rock the size of Gibraltar glittered. I doubted it was real, but it was the kind of in your face conversation started or a weapon. I was hedging closer to weapon based on the dialogue between these two.

  I scanned the bar and made eye contact with David. He might not be my biggest fan, but this was half his bar and business interest. He left his two top table and computer to lumber over toward the gathering of ladies about to rumble.

  Kristen scoffed. “Pretty good, I’m only half feral, but I’ll still kick your scrawny ass.” I put my hand on her arm gently and she stepped back as David joined us. His hulking size didn’t do anything to cool the vibes in the air but it separated us from a hair pulling, nail scratching ordeal.

  “And this is why ladies night is on Thursday. Time to go.” David winked at me and escorted Becky to the back entrance of the bar. I mouthed the words, Thank you, and he nodded. He knew Becky was trouble and while I expected a lot of people to dislike me, even hate me, I wasn’t prepared for the full on vitriol of someone who actually knew of me or a piece of my past. Judgement was a funny thing and feeling under the microscope meant I also had to self-examine the ugly parts of myself. Becky was good at pouring accelerant on the fire, but I was even better at sparking the match and setting the blaze.