Chaser

by Kylie Scott

  Her mouth opened.

  "I mean, Dad's a bit of a downer, but you just ignore him. Grumpy old bastard. I mean, if they ever flicked the switch and sent up nukes, he'd probably be like,"--I lowered my voice--"'about time.'"

  "Oh, Eric, I--"

  "We should do this. It'll be great. Please?"

  "We've already got plans," she said with a wince. "Sorry. Nell already invited us to spend the day with her and Pat. Lydia and Vaughan."

  Shit. Too late again.

  "She did?"

  Jean nodded. "Sorry."

  "No worries." I smiled at her so hard my cheeks hurt. "I mean I think it's great that you're getting out and having some fun. Better that than climbing the walls."

  "Me too," she said. "This whole mommy business kind of takes over your life, becomes your whole identity. I love Ada. But it'll be good when there's a little room for me to be me too." She paused, frowning a little. "God, she's only a month old. Does that sound completely awful of me?"

  "No," I said simply. Honestly, I could hardly get my head around how much of her life Jean had been willing to put on hold. It was almost scary what some people were capable of doing.

  The smile she gave me was slow and it spread across her entire face. More beautiful than any dawn I'd ever seen. All I could do was stare dumbstruck at her magnificence.

  "Thank you," she said.

  I gave myself a little shake. "Hmm? For what?"

  "For being you."

  "Oh. You're welcome."

  Maybe I wouldn't kill Andre. At least, not just yet.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lydia and Alex had teamed up to do the Dive Bar's Christmas decorations, spray-painting small tree branches silver and suspending them from the ceiling. Matching paper stars and twinkling lights dangled down among them. We'd gotten a lot of great feedback from customers. It was pretty seasonal-forest spectacular.

  "Another jug of the pomegranate martini and two more brandy alexanders," ordered Rosie in her jaunty flashing Santa hat.

  "Sure you don't want me to take over?" asked Joe, leaning against the bar.

  "No." I shook my head, making my dumbass antlers shake. "Go relax."

  Better to stay busy. It kept my mind off how cozy Andre and Jean were looking, chatting over at the long table running down the middle of the room. Generally, Andre was a couple of dates, then move on kind of guy. A few months at most, maybe. Jean deserved ... no, she needed more than to be some momentary distraction. Also, the woman looked damn good. She'd put her long dark hair up in a bun and wore a red sweater dress. Seasonal yet sexy. No matter how hard I tried to keep my eyes on the job, my gaze kept wandering back to her.

  I rubbed at my chest with the heel of my palm. "We got any history of heart problems in the family?"

  "Don't think so," said Joe.

  Weird. I should probably ask Mom.

  Meanwhile, Nell was entertaining Ada. We'd pulled a high chair up to one of the tables in the main dining room, and Ada was soaking in the atmosphere, looking wide-eyed at the ceiling decorations. Boyd stayed in the kitchen, keeping the food coming. Socializing wasn't really Boyd's thing and I could relate. Behind my bar, things just felt safer. I knew where I fit in the whole scheme of things, throwing around bottles and shit, keeping my hands busy filling orders. And it wasn't like Jean or Ada needed me. They were both perfectly fine and having a great old time.

  I should be happy for them both. Hell, I should be delighted.

  "Got it pretty bad for her, huh?" Joe looked over his shoulder, checking out Jean.

  "What?" I sputtered, spilling cream on the counter. A quick wipe and all better. "The fuck you talking about?"

  "You realize Andre would back off if you just told him you were serious about her." My brother scratched at his beard. "If you are serious about her. Are you?"

  I coughed out a harsh laugh. "When the hell have I ever been serious about anyone?"

  "Good point," said Joe, leaning in. "So why are you looking so damn miserable?"

  "Well, apparently my little brother's turned into the neighborhood gossip or something. It's got me down."

  "Fuck off. I'm being serious."

  "Me too."

  He scowled. "You're a moody little bitch when you're not getting any. You know that?"

  "Don't you talk about her that way," I said, getting angry.

  His face cracked open on a smile. "Christ, I wasn't even talking about Jean. I meant you in general, knucklehead."

  I ignored the idiot and kept on working. Cream, cognac, creme de cacao, and a sprinkle of nutmeg on top. All good. Oh shit, Rosie had said two. I grabbed down for another martini glass.

  "Putting your dick on ice doesn't seem to agree with you," he unfortunately continued. "It's been a while since I've seen you leave here with a woman. You spend all your downtime with Jean and the baby these days."

  "I like spending my time with them," I said. "Why don't you worry about your own life?"

  "But you've been acting weird for a while, now that I come to think about it." The nosy bastard picked up a toothpick and stuck it between his teeth. "At first, I figured Nell was just driving you nuts. Now ... something's seriously off and I think I know what it is."

  "Ooh, please tell me. I can't wait to hear your wisdom, gossip girl."

  He grinned. "You're in love."

  Jaw hanging open, I could only stare.

  "It's written all over your face," he said. "Every time you look at her I'm surprised you don't start drooling like the baby."

  "What's happening over here?" Alex asked, as she leaned against Joe's back, slipping her arms around his waist and squeezing. "Boys, why the frowns? Show me some Christmas spirit!"

  "Ho ho ho," said Joe, copping a feel of her ass.

  "That's better." His slightly inebriated girlfriend grinned. Next came the tongues and mouths and ... oh god, I didn't need to see this. Plus, it was unprofessional.

  But that was love, them being all stupid and gooey about each other. Jean and I weren't like that at all. Speaking of which, I accidentally glanced her way again, catching her eye. A quick friendly smile and back to work I went. Yeah, everyone could just mind their own business about us. Nothing to see here.

  "You're full of shit," I said to my brother. "This conversation's done, Joe."

  He licked his lips, holding back the chuckles. Asshole. "Yeah, okay."

  "You're wrong."

  "Am I? Guess we'll see."

  "Excuse me, babe." He gave his girlfriend's arm a pat then rose from his seat and came around behind the bar to take over. "Go talk to her, dude."

  "Her being Jean?" Alex asked, taking a sip of Joe's beer. So great that she could join in the conversation.

  "We were just discussing the big issues," said Joe. "Life, love, shit like that. You know...."

  "Shit like that? You're an absolute charmer, babe." Her nose delicately wrinkled. "Very well, continue on."

  "Let's not," I said.

  Bad enough my brother felt the need to get all up in my business and start discussing feelings. If Alex started in on the topic, we might be here all night doing quizzes in women's magazines and talking over sad moments from our childhood.

  She made a humming noise and turned, looking over to where Jean and Andre were happily chatting again. With half a glass of red wine in her hand, Jean looked happy, relaxed. Which was great. It wouldn't hurt Andre to sit back a little and give her some breathing room, though. Jesus. Talk about being in her space.

  "They make an interesting couple," said Alex.

  "I don't know," said Joe, making up a jug of pomegranate martini. "Andre's probably just being a good neighbor."

  "You don't think he's serious?" I crossed my arms. "Why, because she's got a baby?"

  Joe nodded.

  "Not so sure about that," said Alex. "I think Eric might have some competition."

  "They're just friends. My big brother's reformed," stated Joe. "In case you haven't noticed."

  Jesus. Pretty sure a
lobotomy would hurt less than listening to this. "I'm taking a break."

  I slid behind my brother and got out of there pronto. Fresh air was required, no matter how freezing. Chatter and music filled the room, everyone busy having a good time. No one would miss me. From the rack by the door, I grabbed my coat and slipped outside into the butt-chapping winter wonderland. Times like this, I missed smoking. A good excuse for just stopping and getting my thoughts in order. Not that dying from messed-up lungs would ever be something I was in any way interested in, but you get what I mean.

  Nothing much moved on the dark empty street. The sounds from inside were muted, the candles on the tables glowing. Too much was going on inside for me to think straight.

  Neither me, nor Nell, nor Lydia, had raised the subject of the offer to sell again. Not really. We'd been tiptoeing around it, pretending it wasn't in the back of all our heads, taking up space. Everyone had been so busy with the Christmas bookings it'd been easy to avoid the subject. Next came New Year's Eve and that always drew a big crowd. Things usually quieted down during January so I guess we'd talk it out then. Maybe. The thought of scattering our patched-together family set my chest to hurting again.

  The door opened and Jean stepped out, pulling on her coat. "Hey there."

  "Hi. What are you doing out here?"

  "Actually, I came out here to ask you that question." Her breath frosted the air, cheeks pink from the heat inside and maybe the glass of wine. "Everything okay?"

  "Sure."

  "You weren't about to make a phone call or something, were you?" she asked with a faint smile. "Am I cramping your style?"

  A sudden urge flared in my mind to lie about some booty call with some hot girl. Better that than for Jean to think I was just standing out here all alone for no reason, like some loser. But I pushed the urge aside. "Cramping my style?" I echoed. "You're the one out on the hot date."

  Her puffy turquoise jacket covered her from neck to knee, but she still had to be cold. "Why don't you head back inside? It's freezing out here."

  "Soon," she said.

  "Ada's dealing with all the noise well."

  "I think she's loving the attention." Jean looked through the window, watching Nell hold the baby while Pat had an apparently very serious conversation with the small child. "I worried you were going to give me crap about her reindeer suit."

  "Nuh, reindeers have antlers. They can be fierce." I tilted the soft foam antlers on my head in her direction. Kind of underlining my point.

  "Ah." She laughed, then sighed. "Are you thinking about the offer for the bar?"

  "I was, actually."

  "Come to any decisions yet?"

  I shook my head. "No, I haven't."

  "Sure you're not tempted to sell and buy a bike, hit the road?"

  "I'd freeze my ass off doing it this time of year."

  Jean looked to heaven. "How about a car then? A very fancy, fast, and cool car?"

  "I don't know." I ummed and ahhed for a minute. "Not a bad idea. But I don't think so. Funny, I always dreamed about getting out of town, heading for the West Coast and living in a big city. Do big things."

  "And now?"

  "Now, not so much," I said. "The three weeks I spent in L.A., they honestly weren't as great as I'd hoped they'd be. Maybe I've grown out of the bright lights and getting lost in the crowd thing, you know?"

  "Yes. I know."

  "Or maybe I'm just slowly turning into a grump like my dad. Probably start yelling at people to get off my lawn any day now."

  She laughed.

  "If we did wind up selling, I think maybe I'd open my own place."

  Her smile held a hint of sly. "Be the big boss for real, huh?"

  "You know it." I smiled back at her, ignoring the tinge of embarrassment over remembering the shit I'd told her about being sole owner when we met. That was months ago. Things had changed. Mostly. "Though it might not be enough money for that. Also, there could be legal complications over going into competition. Anyway, are you having a good time? How's your hot date going?"

  "Great."

  "Good." I stared at my brogues. "Yeah..."

  From inside came the faint sound of a baby crying. Jean turned to go. "She's must be getting tired. I know I am."

  "Did you want me to go?" I offered. "Might be able to get her to chill so you can hang out with Andre a bit longer."

  "That's okay." She huddled down in her coat. "It's nearly nine-thirty. Way past our bedtime. Well, our official bedtime anyway."

  "Okay."

  Her smile was soft and pretty as she slipped inside and went straight to Ada. Andre gathered up the baby bag, ready to walk them home. It was weird seeing another man step in, doing the things I normally did for her. Honestly, I fucking hated it ... big-time. My hands curled into fists, jaw rigid as I watched from outside. People waved and blew kisses, wishing them a good night. Nell probably loved seeing them together. And I wanted to be happy seeing Jean have a good time. But it just wouldn't stick.

  If my antlers had been real, Andre would have been in serious trouble.

  *

  Christmas and New Year's passed in a blur. First came the traditional Christmas Eve showing of Die Hard with Alex joining Joe and me for our yearly ritual. Followed by Christmas Day with the folks. Dad didn't grumble about the state of the world too much and Alex got Mom tipsy, resulting in her telling all sorts of funny stories from when Joe and I were little. Like the time I found out people got wrinkles as they got older and promptly told the sweet old lady next door she was about to die. Clearly I'd always been a hit with the ladies. Altogether, it turned out to be not a bad day. I tried stopping by Jean and Ada's place a couple of times, but my timing was off. They were either resting or out at Nell and Pat's.

  The Dive Bar was packed for New Year's Eve. It was insane. Even with Vaughan, Joe, and me all working nonstop, the line for drinks was steady. I staggered up the stairs to home in the small hours of the morning, dead on my feet. Only to find Andre making out with some woman in the hallway that led to my room. That led to Jean's room.

  For a moment, I thought he had Jean up against the wall, and my heart seemed almost to stop. But her hair was blond, and she was the wrong height.

  Fright turned to anger.

  "What the fuck?" I hissed, keys in hand.

  "Huh?" He lifted his head from the smiling blonde's neck. "Hey, Eric. Good night?"

  "We need to talk."

  Pained lines filled his face. "Now?"

  "Right now."

  The blonde was petite and thin, yet missing all of Jean's curves. Sure, she had a nice face. But where was the character? Jean's sharp nose and wide lips were way more interesting. Andre was a goddamn fool and kicking his ass sounded like a fine way to end the night.

  The man licked his lips, fussing with his own keys for a minute to get the door open. "Sorry, Christina. Mind waiting inside for me? I won't be a minute."

  "Sure." She shot me a look of displeasure. Whatever.

  Once she was gone and the door closed, Andre stood tall, hands on hips. "What's the problem?"

  "What's the problem, seriously? How about Jean?"

  His brows jumped. "That's why you're cock-blocking me?"

  My muscles turned to stone. I was going to kill the shit.

  "I escorted her to the Christmas party, yes. You know Jean and I also had pizza together the other night too," said Andre, smoothing back his hair. "Does that mean we're married now?"

  "It means you need to show some respect."

  "How am I disrespecting her?" He held his hands wide. "She's nice and I like her. Don't even mind the kid, for that matter. But Jean and I are friends, Eric, that's all."

  "Does she know that?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  I just stared at him.

  "She's not interested in me like that."

  "Hang on," I growled. "Did you make a move on her?"

  "No, of course not." He seemed pretty certain and a little pissed off. Made two of us
. "Eric, I think I'm old enough to tell if a woman's into me or not. Though I wasn't looking for anything when I asked her to hang out."

  "Then why did you?"

  He shrugged. "She's on her own, doesn't know a lot of people. Seemed like the right thing to do."

  Meanwhile, the muscles in my jaw and neck felt tight enough to break. "You sure?"

  Andre hung his head for a moment, exhaling hard. "Jesus, I had no idea. You really need to talk to her sometime soon."

  "About what?"

  "Don't try that shit with me," he said, gaze fixed. "You've had your head messed up about her ever since she arrived."

  "She just had a baby."

  "Didn't stop you from imagining she and I were suddenly joined at the hip, did it?"

  Huh. Sort of true. Or definitely true. One of those.

  "I sympathize, man. I really do." He put his hand on the door. "But I also have a beautiful woman waiting for me to take her to bed. So you and your problems are going to have to wait."

  I hesitated.

  "Go and sleep. You need it," he said. "And dude, maybe you should seriously think about getting laid. You've made your point to Nell and the rest of them. It might help you relax."

  "Maybe." God knows, just like the song said, masturbation had long since lost its thrill. But now I was pretty much confused about fucking everything. Besides being exhausted. "You're definitely not hurting her by doing this?"

  "Not even a little. Night, man."

  "Morning."

  The douchebag wiggled his fingers bye-bye before disappearing inside his apartment. I lingered in the hallway, lost in my thoughts. Soon enough the sound of feminine giggles and moans started up. And I stood outside his door listening like a pervert. Nice. Though it was probably as close as I would be getting to sex anytime soon, what with my fascination for all things Jean. Fascination wasn't an emotion. It wasn't love or anything. It was just like ... you know, a thing.

  I trudged into my apartment, slipping off my tiepin and unknotting my tie, tossing them on the sideboard. If you couldn't dress up for New Year's, when the hell could you? Next, I toed off my boots and socks, then just kind of gave up on life and getting undressed and fell into bed. Stone-cold sober and alone at the end of one hell of a New Year's Eve party. These days, I barely recognized myself. What a sad sap I'd become.

  On the other hand, Andre and Jean were just friends. Excellent news. I fell asleep soon after with a smile on my face.

  *