by Cora Brent
Hot, yes. Friendly, no.
Despite his surly attitude Tristan Mulligan had always been easy on the eyes. His light brown hair was cut short, almost military style. And he’d obviously been putting in some serious time with the weights. If I didn’t already know his name then I would have taken an interest in finding out.
I couldn’t tell if Tristan recognized me or not. He was staring in this direction but all the chatter might have irritated him as my new colleagues and I swapped horror stories about the first day of school. I contributed with a short summary of the parking lot couple, making it sound funnier than it seemed at the time so everyone laughed. I stole a glance at the bar to see if Tristan was paying attention but then the bartender approached and Aura wanted to introduce me to her.
She was young to be working in a dive like the Dirty Cactus but she turned out to be the daughter of the current owner. Her name was Leah and I liked her immediately. Sometimes you just got a good sense about people, like you were destined to be friends. She was curious about me and it was obvious all her former teachers held her in high esteem. Leah had a vintage look about her, a wholesome makeup free 1970s kind of look. She flicked her shiny brown hair over one thin shoulder and with a bright smile informed me that brand new Emblem residents were always treated to a beer on the house. Even though I wasn’t a huge beer enthusiast I appreciated the gesture.
Tristan was still hanging out at the bar when Leah returned with my beer and he was looking this way again, his expression thoughtful. It was possible he realized I looked familiar but he wasn’t sure why. In any case, Emblem wasn’t a big town and we were bound to run into one another. Besides, we were connected by family and had no reason to avoid each other.
I excused myself from the table and made my way to the bar. Tristan was facing the other direction by now but the man sitting on the stool on his right nudged him with an elbow when he noticed I was coming their way.
“Hello, Tristan.” I took a seat on the empty stool on his other side. “I’m not sure if you remember me.”
He took his time about answering. Slowly, very slowly, his distinct bluish grey eyes conducted a full inspection. I found myself wishing he wasn’t so damn good looking.
“Should I know you?” he asked and there was something about the tone of his deep voice that made me think he wasn’t serious, that he knew who exactly who I was but was choosing to screw around with me.
“I’m Cassie’s sister,” I said, meeting his direct stare, hopefully communicating the same thing I tried to convey in the classroom, that I was no fool and had little patience for games. “And yes, we’ve met before.”
“Cassie’s sister.” He scratched his head as if he was trying to place the connection and then drummed his fingers on the table. He had large hands, rough hands. They matched the rest of him. There was some bruising around his jaw, an obvious remnant of some recent violence. Somehow it only made him look sexier.
“Yes, Cassie Gentry Mulligan.” I got sarcastic. “You know who your brother’s wife is, don’t you?”
“Sure.” His eyes swept over me again in a way that seemed designed to make me squirm. “And you’re Cadence Gentry.”
I smiled. “So you do remember me.”
“A little.” He pointed to my Emblem High ID badge. “I can also read.”
“Gentry,” piped up the man on Tristan’s other side. “You’re a Gentry?”
“That’s right.” I craned my neck to see around Tristan. “My family used to live in town. My parents grew up here. I’m Cadence.”
“Oh.” His rubbery lips twisted into a frown. An angry scar in the shape of a half moon was visible through his black hair. “There used to be a lot of Gentrys around. There’s not too many in town no more.”
“This is Steve Pike,” Tristan said. “Everyone calls him Pike.”
“Hi, Pike,” I said.
“Hi,” he answered and then became shy. Or disinterested. He turned a bowl of pretzels over, crushed them under his palm and then began eating the crumbs off the bar, licking his fingertip to pick up the salt.
Tristan was watching me, perhaps to gauge my reaction to his friend’s behavior. I wondered if Pike had something wrong with him, something that had to do with the scar on the side of his head.
“So, Tristan, do you live here in town?” I asked, trying to rouse a polite conversation.
He answered my question by asking a question. “Where do you live?”
“On Globe Street.”
“Why?”
“My apartment fell through and my grandfather is letting me stay at his house.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He rested an elbow on the bar and eased closer to me, only a few inches, but enough so I could smell the spice of his aftershave mixed with the beer on his breath. The blend reminded me of college parties and good times and something stirred inside me, something that hadn’t been satisfied in a while.
“Then what did you mean?” I was good at playing it cool, keeping my voice nonchalant and taking a slow sip of my beer. It wasn’t like I had any intention of hooking up with Tristan Mulligan for god’s sake.
“I mean what are you doing living in Emblem?”
I held up my white badge that identified me as a teacher at Emblem High. “You said you could read. I have a job teaching at the high school.”
“Was Scottsdale fresh out of teaching opportunities?”
My eyes narrowed. “I’m not from Scottsdale.”
He shrugged. “You’re not far off.”
“And how do you know that? I don’t recall ever inviting you to my house.”
Tristan was amused. “No need to get testy.”
“No need to insinuate that I’m some over privileged brat.”
“Whoa.” He laughed. “Walk it back a step. I swear I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”
“Sorry.” I rubbed my eyes. “It’s been a long day.”
“If Emblem High is anything like I remember it, then I’m sure that’s true.”
“That’s right, you went to school there.”
“For a while.” He toyed with his beer bottle. “What subject do you teach?”
“English.”
He made a noise, something between a laugh and a grunt. “There must be a thousand high schools in the Phoenix area where you could teach English.”
“There are.”
“So why are you slumming it down here in Emblem?”
I got defensive. “I thought you said you weren’t trying to piss me off.”
“I’m not, Cadence. It’s an honest question. Emblem isn’t widely known as a top destination for someone like you.”
My back stiffened. “I don’t think of teaching at Emblem High as slumming. My parents graduated from high school there.”
He waited for me to continue. I took a moment to cobble together my feelings into words. My own parents had been puzzled by my decision to move here. I had zero expectation that Tristan Mulligan would understand.
“Emblem was my family’s home for a long time.” I said. “I know things are rougher here than what I’m used to. From what I’ve heard they just keep getting worse. But I feel a strong connection. And if I can help the kids here, even a little, then I’ve made the right choice.”
Tristan clapped three times when I finished. “Wow. It’s admirable how determined you are to make a difference in the lives of the less fortunate.”
“It sounds like you’re making fun of me.”
He grinned. “That’s because I’m making fun of you.”
I was a little sorry I’d come over here and started this conversation. I grabbed the beer I’d only take a few sips of. “Nice talking to you, Tristan. I should get back to my table.”
Tristan stopped me from leaving by placing his hand over mine. The contact only lasted for a few seconds but it was long enough to unleash a heated furnace in my belly. Sexual attraction couldn’t be helped. It was primitive. It was involuntary. And right now it was threatening
to send me to my knees.
“Hold on,” he said. “You’ll have to to grow a thicker skin if you’re going to be dealing with a bunch of high school kids every day.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to be a little more pleasant,” I grumbled. “We’re sort of family.”
He’d already taken his hand away but my skin still tingled from his touch.
“We’re not family at all, Cadence.” He frowned suddenly. “Did Curtis know you were moving down here?”
“Of course.” My family never missed an opportunity to hold a party and there’d been a big going away celebration in my honor at my parents’ house. Curtis had been there with Cassie. Even Brecken made an appearance.
“I talked to him recently. He didn’t say anything about you.”
“Well, he didn’t say anything about you to me either. Maybe it didn’t occur to him that our paths would cross.”
Tristan nodded. “Maybe.” He sounded unconvinced but changed the subject. “How was Brecken when you saw him?”
“He’s great.” I smiled at the mention of Brecken Mulligan. When I met him he was a scrawny kid who’d been dealt a tough hand in life. One parent dead, the other headed for prison. After my parents learned of the Mulligan brothers’ situation they took an interest in helping them and Brecken was a frequent guest at our house. My mother especially adored him.
“I’m sure you know this already but Breck just started community college and he’s working part time at Esposito’s Pizzeria. He still lives with Curtis and Cassie for now but I know he’s hoping to get an apartment soon. He said he planned to drive down here to visit me sometime.”
“Is that right?” Tristan said.
“Don’t you talk to him?”
“Not often.”
Tristan’s mood had changed. He’d gone from mocking to almost sad. I changed the subject.
“So what do you do, Tristan? For a living I mean.” I wondered if work might be an even touchier topic than his brothers. Based on the hints I’d gotten whenever Tristan’s name came up I gathered he wasn’t exactly a law abiding citizen. I wished that bothered me enough to quit picturing him without his shirt on.
He drained the rest of his beer. “Sometimes I drive a tow truck.”
“And the rest of the time?”
“The rest of the time I don’t.”
I decided not to press the issue. “Since I’m the new girl in town why don’t you tell me all about what everyone does for fun in Emblem?”
He snorted and tipped his empty beer bottle like he was making a toast. “This is about as good as it gets. Dirty Cactus is the only bar around that’s bigger than a closet. It’s busier on Friday and Saturday nights. All the local bikers and wannabe bikers park outside the front door and make a lot of noise. They even have karaoke night. Hey Leah, what night is karaoke?”
Leah was at the opposite end of the bar marking something off on a clipboard. She seemed annoyed that Tristan was speaking to her. “Saturdays.”
“Saturdays,” Tristan repeated to me.
I tried to picture the scene. “So Saturday is Biker Karaoke Night?”
“That’s right.”
“And that’s the extent of the night life excitement?”
“What kind of excitement were you looking for, Cadence?” His tone, combined with the way he shamelessly checked out my breasts, made me think he was aware of the effect he had on me. And what’s more, he was entertained.
I gave him a charming smile. “I was just looking for something to do when my boyfriend comes down to visit.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “What’s your boyfriend’s name?”
“Todd.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. There had once been a boyfriend named Todd in my life. The fact that we’d broken up six months ago, far longer than we’d been together in the first place, wasn’t something I needed to share with Tristan.
“Hopefully you and Todd can find a way to occupy each other on your own.”
“Hopefully we can,” I said. I took another sip of my beer. “I’m glad you turned out to be somewhat talkative.”
He threw me an odd look. “I don’t know why you came over to chat if you thought I wouldn’t say anything.”
“I just wasn’t sure what to expect from you. The only other times we’ve been in the same place you gave off this brooding, angry vibe.”
“I guess I was in a brooding, angry mood that day.”
“It happened more than once.”
“Sounds like you want an apology.”
“No.” I paused. “Did you know who I was when I walked in?”
“You’re tough to forget.” He checked his watch and abruptly stood up. “Come on, Pike. We’ve got to go. I’ll drop you off at home.”
Pike had made quite a mess. He’d left little piles of pretzel pieces all over the bar. Tristan noticed and wordlessly swept the crumbs into the empty bowl before leaving another bill on the counter.
“Do we really have to leave now?” Pike whined.
“Yeah buddy, I’ve got to go to work.”
Pike was unhappy but he got to his feet. He spotted me and his face lit up. He poked Tristan in the ribs. “Are you gonna fuck that Cadence girl?”
Tristan wasn’t shocked by the question. Or by the fact that it had been asked right in front of me. He took his time considering his answer.
“Not today,” he said.
I just sat there, red-faced and slack-jawed. I didn’t even have a comeback when Tristan leaned closer, brushing the hard muscles of his chest against my arm.
“Make sure you say hello to Todd for me.”
Then he turned and quickly walked out the door with Pike trailing along after him. I should have had enough willpower to stop staring at his muscled ass as he left without a backward glance but I didn’t.
Leah was already dumping the pretzel crumbs and refilling the bowl when I turned back to the bar.
Not today.
He said it all matter of fact, like the outcome was inevitable even if it wasn’t going to happen in the next few hours.
I exhaled and finally found my voice. “What an asshole.”
Leah had obviously heard everything. “Perennial asshole.” Then she held out the bowl of fresh pretzels. “Hungry?”
“Starving.” I grabbed a handful of pretzels and shoved them in my mouth because not only was I truly hungry but chewing gave me a chance to calm down.
Plus I was ashamed.
I was ashamed because a ridiculous question kept running through my mind and I could chew pretzels until my teeth fell out and the same question would still be pounding in my blood.
It was a question that had popped into my head as soon as Tristan Mulligan spoke the words ‘Not today’.
When, Tristan? When?
Chapter Four
Tristan
“What the fuck are you doing up so bright and early today?” Dover mumbled as he shuffled into the tiny kitchen while tucking in the crisp white shirt tail of his uniform.
“Got to pick up a shipment this morning,” I told him.
Dover fastened his top button and I debated if I ought to let him know that he’d skipped a different button right above his beer gut. I took a bite of my cereal and decided to let him figure it out for himself. I didn’t know how the hell Dover could stand it, working at the prison, marching past row after bleak row of cellblocks filled with confined men. It had to be the most depressing way on earth to earn a few dollars.
When I was a kid the shortcut I used to take to get home from school led right past the prison rec yard. If there were no guards in sight to yell at me I would walk a path that was mere inches from the fence and wonder what it felt like to be in one of those orange jumpsuits on the other side, condemned to year after year inside of a gigantic cage. So far I’d avoided finding out for myself, serving only a few short sentences for minor convictions, but there was a good chance I wouldn’t cheat fate forever.
Dover dumped a spoonful of inst
ant coffee grounds into a mug and filled it with water before popping it into the microwave. “I can’t believe you’re still fucking with that shit,” he said.
“It’s easy money.”
“And if you’re not careful I’ll find you squatting and coughing on the intake strip search line one day soon,” he warned, sounding like a dad. It was enough to make me laugh out loud.
Dover always tended to color inside the lines more than the rest of us, working low level jobs and avoiding being handcuffed and stuffed into the back of a cop car. He got spooked enough from watching so many of our buddies get nailed that he straightened out for the most part, shunning anything illegal and applying for a job at the state prison. I never saw Dover do anything too severe but back in the day he knew how to twist an arm or two if the occasion demanded it. Now the guy puts on a polyester uniform and within six months starts handing out legal advice like he’s the goddamn chief of police.
“I think of it as a public health service.” I stretched and decided to dick around with him. “You need some? I’ll give you a discount.”
Dover was insulted. “Fuck you. I can still operate naturally.”
“You mean manually? I noticed Karla’s not coming around anymore.”
He took a loud sip from his mug and dripped coffee onto his shirt where it was destined to leave a stain. “I don’t see you swimming in pussy these days, Mulligan. Maybe you should give your own product a try.”
Dover smirked like he’d just won the argument. I didn’t see the point in having a ‘I can get way more pussy that you’ fight so I let him keep the victory.
He had already moved on and was rooting around in the kitchen cabinets, which was kind of funny because there wasn’t much in there. “I can’t find nothing for lunch,” he complained.
“What do you expect me to do? Do I look like you mother?”