Dan bobbed his head like a real-life dashboard doll.
“Okay… Want some company? How about this, let me buy you a beer.”
“A beer?”
“Something wrong with your hearing?” Joe scratched his forehead, dying to laugh. The eye patch shifted over the scarred socket. He picked up an unwieldy plastic bag to hide his amusement.
“Uh…no. I thought you’d be going—”
“I decided to stay in town,” Joe interrupted as he emptied the entire bag of mulch and began to spread the bark chips around the soil with a small rake.
“Really? Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that.” Stabbing the rake on the wet dirt, he glared at Dan. “Are you going to help me with the mulch, or are you going to stand there repeating everything I say?”
Dan shook his head. “Yikes. Sorry, man.” Opening the other bag, he dumped the contents several inches ahead of the advancing Joe. “Gotta tell ya, dude. It’s not your normal…”
“How long have you known me?” Joe fired out. “Years. Like…since forever, right? Does normal apply to me?”
“Not that I—”
Narrowing his eye, Joe nodded. “Exactly.” As he resumed his work, he murmured under his breath, “I hope you’re ready, Danny boy. The surprises have only begun.”
“Check it out…check it out,” Kelly murmured, bumping Hunter’s shoulder. “Handsome guy alert, directly ahead.”
Hunter ceased sliding wineglasses on the hanging rack above the bar and scanned the room. Two men—one shorter than the other—had just walked in. As Pete’s front door closed slowly behind them, her gaze zeroed in on the taller guy—the man who advertised complications to the world, and wore a black patch over his right eye. The guy who troubled and fascinated her at once.
Joe Reid.
Enigmatic and broodingly handsome, a peculiar aura of raw sensuality floated around him. Hunter knew by sheer instinct the eyes of every female in the room were trained on him. Was that the sound of a general sigh?
Something fluttered inside her chest. Her heart? And, same as yesterday, a soft breath rushed through her lips. She squeezed the goblet in her hand. If she held it a little tighter, the bowl and stem would snap apart.
Confusion reigned in her, as she hadn’t expected to see Joe again.
Pete’s was an unpretentious watering hole. Instantly suspicious, thoughts rose and niggled: Why is he here? What brought him back? What does he want?
Joe belonged in sophisticated big-city bars—where the beautiful people hung out. He dressed like it, looked like it, and walked like it.
And as the pair of men ambled forward, the contrast between their worlds and outlook on life became stark. Poor Dan. He was trying real hard. Hunter smirked with some satisfaction at her enemy’s useless efforts.
There’s a touch of wasted male competitiveness.
Dan had even shaved his ubiquitous five-day stubble. Nevertheless, his baggy jeans, faded shirt, and growing beer belly exemplified laziness, a small-town attitude in heart and mind. He’d stopped caring years ago.
Meanwhile, lean muscled and tall, Joe walked with the elegance of a feline roaming its hunting grounds, a stride the military had drilled and honed. Once, he’d been a leader of men and had expected their obedience. Although he downplayed this aspect of his personality, the angle of his head and the tilt of his shoulders gave him away. While his casual clothes gave a relaxed appearance—his brand-new, perfectly fitting jeans, black pullover, and polished boots spoke of a man who paid attention to detail—even the two-day stubble worked for him. Joe wasn’t done with life yet. He was still hungry.
Hmm… An ambitious man was admirable. Most women found that quality attractive and sexy. He could also be a demanding pain in the ass, impossible to handle, and someone Hunter made a rule to avoid at all costs. She didn’t do unmanageable men. Her thoughts had gone full circle, and she blinked out of her musings. Trouble and company approached. Their interest was riveted on the bar and the two empty stools directly in front of her.
Joe’s clear blue regard fell on Hunter, and a rush of blazing heat coursed through her. She might have stood like a statue, making a fool of herself before customers and owners, but her trembling hands saved her. She dropped both on the countertop, and the loud clink from the wineglass she held shattered the bizarre spell. Silently, Hunter begged the earth to swallow her. Judging by his sly expression, Joe had read her trepidation.
“Take a break,” Kelly murmured next to her ear. “Leave, now. Go. Compose yourself.”
Hunter stiffened. “Does it show?”
“You’ve no idea.” Drying the counter’s surface with exaggerated wipes, Kelly moved between Hunter, the bar, and the advancing men. Hunter had to take a step back.
Kelly nodded toward the bathroom. “I’ll handle their orders.”
“But…” Hunter rubbed her temple. “I’m not… This is so—”
“Move, stop wasting time,” Kelly huffed. “They’ll hear you in a moment.”
“Okay. I’m out of here.” Hunter murmured.
As she walked into the connecting corridor, she overheard Joe’s deep voice. “Hey, Kelly. How’s it going? Did we do something wrong? The gal left in a hurry. Is it okay to sit here?”
“It’s a free country. Sit wherever you like,” Kelly answered, covering Hunter’s retreat. “What’ll ya have?”
“We’ll have a couple of IPA drafts, please.” Joe’s pleasant voice faded as she kept going.
That son of a bitch, he is amused, all right. Hunter’s mind churned as she entered the bathroom. She eyed her reflection and struck the heel of her hand against the sink. In addition to several ugly blotches dotting her neckline, her reaction to Joe’s arrival was stamped red on her cheekbones. She thought of splashing water to cool her flushed skin. Yeah, but that would wreak havoc with her mascara and makeup. The smudged, crazed-raccoon look didn’t look sexy at all on her.
Remembering Kelly’s advice, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping her system would settle down and gain a little peace. But the emotion remained elusive. Instead, a tense sensation, as if she’d been connected to an electric outlet, traveled deep within her.
Embarrassment gave way to anger, and she squinted at the mirror. “Get ahold of yourself,” she muttered at her image as she reached for her purse inside her cubicle.
Hunter rummaged and stirred one-handed in the depths of her shoulder bag. She pulled out the cosmetic kit, then leaned forward to examine her skin.
How many layers of foundation do I need to camouflage the flaws, the shadows…the ravages of ageing?
Kelly had criticized her obsession with the calendar, and her argument was valid, to a point. But Kelly, despite her affection and steadfast support, couldn’t quite relate to Hunter’s reality as a single woman. Kelly’s life progressed on an almost ideal, this-is-the-way-it-should-be path. Time affected her differently. She owned a thriving business, her marriage to a wonderful man was strong and loving, and ever since her son and daughter moved to another town, she lived in a cozy empty nest for two.
And Kelly had never experienced…
Hunter sighed. Not now.
She searched inside the kit and opted for the blush case and thick brush instead of the foundation bottle. She’d arrived at that inevitable phase in her life where achieving the dewy complexion of youth took effort and artistry. Hunter approached the process from a painter’s point of view. For best results, a clean canvas was required, she’d learned that much when she took over her mother’s spot at the Macy’s makeup counter. Slapping a new layer of foundation on top of the old, as she’d seen Mamá Giordano and her friends do, yielded hideous, masklike faces.
With quick strokes, she brushed on a light dusting of neutral blush, concentrating on the hollow below her cheekbones, dabbed a touch of gloss to her lips, her best feature, then put everything away and shrugged.
Screw it, this is as good as it’s going to get.
Really?
If she cared so little, then why fuss over her appearance?
Because he’s out there, and that know-it-all, irritating attitude of his unnerves me. I’ll be damned if I don’t straighten him out.
Yep, Hunter Giordano had come out a fighter after her ordeal. She was no wuss and didn’t expose her throat to her opponents.
Excellent bravado. Now, if her stomach calmed down and her hands stopped shaking, she’d be golden.
The moment Hunter exited the bathroom and turned the corner, her fortitude evaporated. She took in the lighthearted scene between Kelly, Dan, and Joe as if she walked on gelatin. One wrong step and she’d stumble face forward, losing all dignity. She made an instant defensive decision. You need distance. Get away from these three as fast as possible.
Plastering a stiff smile on her face, she grabbed the cocktail tray next to Kelly ready to walk away. Unfortunately, Kelly had different ideas. She grasped Hunter’s forearm. “You’re back. Everything all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Kelly reared back a little. “It’s conversation, girl. No need to get snarky.”
“Whatever. A customer is waving at me.”
Kelly released her. “Then, by all means go, Hunter. Take care of business.”
Joe swiveled on his stool, facing her squarely. “Hunter, is it?”
The question streamed out of his lips, then, soft as a silk sash, coiled around her shoulders, her waist, and down around her legs. Stunned, she made eye contact. In the bar light, his light-blue iris gleamed.
“I like it,” Joe said, a friendly expression on his face. “It’s different. Unique. One could say…unforgettable.”
Happiness exploded in her chest.
One could, Hunter thought, but kept the comment and her surprising emotion private. She was having enough trouble trying to figure out why his approval mattered at all. She’d stopped caring about a man’s opinions eons ago.
“You haven’t introduced me to your friend, Kelly?” Joe spoke again, and Hunter’s attempts to run, to get lost in the main room with customers, ended. His voice caressed her, delighted her, and kept her firmly in place. She couldn’t leave—more accurately, she didn’t want to leave.
Dan thumped his heavy mug on the countertop. “For fuck’s sake, will ya stop the chitchat, Joe? Let the woman be. She’s got other customers besides you.” The obvious dislike in Dan’s tone chilled the mood. Evidently, the idea of Hunter hanging around him and his friend was a bit much for Mr. Barton.
“Easy there, bro.” A frowning Joe swiveled to face Dan. “That’s uncalled for. And I’m not keeping her. I’m new here and wanted to meet Kelly’s friend with the sexy name. It’s called polite conversation. What’s your beef?”
In a haze, Hunter’s gaze hopped from Joe to Dan to Kelly. She watched from a dimension where nothing made any sense. And now, Kelly smiled at Joe with the sweetest expression, patting his hand as if she’d known him since birth. To Hunter’s further bafflement, Kelly opened her palm.
“Goodness, my bad,” Kelly said. “Joe Reid, meet my dearest friend, Hunter Giordano.”
“Nice to meet you, Hunter,” he murmured, leaning forward.
He spoke to her intimately. No one existed except them. Then he offered his hand.
She hesitated. Glanced up. Her eyes linked with his. His hand remained extended. She wanted to ignore him. Leave the gesture unanswered. Yet, she could not. His silence was compelling,.
Hunter stopped resisting.
She placed her hand within his large warm fingers, and a new storm of contradicting emotions took her. Excitement, desire, and fear battered her from every direction, and at the center of the vortex, a certainty of peace and safety soothed her. For the briefest of moments, her mangled soul lost its scars. The rough ridges smoothed out. She felt protected and guarded. She wanted to weep and laugh.
“Err…my pleasure,” she mumbled, then rescued her hand and, still in a haze, ran toward customers on high-tops without looking back.
CHAPTER FIVE
JOE WAS LIVID. Stupid, stubborn Dan with his resentment and ill-timed angry comments had ruined what had started out as a promising first contact with Hunter. Joe had been forced to turn the charm full on, hoping to salvage what he could of the conversation. But the woman, pale-faced and skittish, had mumbled a weak excuse about customers and taken off into the fast-growing crowd. His golden opportunity had been wasted, as the bar was getting noisier and noisier. For the rest of the evening, all possibility of speaking to Hunter while discreetly charming her over would be difficult, if not impossible.
Swiveling back around on his stool, Joe sent Dan the kind of glare that could bury anyone six feet under. “Are you always such a jerk? What is wrong with you?”
“What?” Dan snapped, undaunted. “She’s no good.”
“Oh. And you’re the virtue expert. Right?”
“Way better than you.” Dan whipped around. “Hunter’s got a record, dude. She’s left a trail of heartbreak. Everywhere. And if you don’t watch out, you’ll be one more name in a long list of suckers.”
Joe narrowed his eye. “Firsthand experience?”
The question must have found a tender spot. Dan turned beet red, and his cheeks puffed. For a moment, Joe thought the guy’s face would explode. Maybe he should dial back the exchange, but Dan didn’t give him a chance to speak again. Pushing his stool back, he stood.
“There’s no point to this. You’re a grown man. Don’t wanna listen? That’s your business. I’m gonna say hello to a friend. He just came in. I’ll be back in a few. Save my spot if you like.” Dan picked up his beer and, without waiting for a response from Joe, went in the same direction Hunter had taken.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Dan’s kind of a hothead.” Dish towel in hand and a wet beer glass in the other, Kelly spoke from the work area inside the bar. She’d been listening in to their heated conversation.
“Huh?” Joe said, “I’m missing something here. He’s so angry.”
Finished with the tumbler, Kelly placed it upside down next to several rows of identical glasses, then picked up another from the sink. “There’s a lot of bad blood between Hunter and Dan. It all started when Hunter started working at Pete’s about four years ago.”
“I see,” he said.
“You weren’t around when we opened the bar in 2007. We took over after the pizza place went under. Am I wrong in guessing you were in the military at that time? And by the way, thanks for your service.”
Surprised, Joe dropped his elbows on the counter. “Wow, is it that evident?”
“Yes, sir.” Kelly smiled. “The giveaway ain’t the eye patch. It’s how you carry yourself. My dad was a Marine. Two tours in Vietnam.”
“Was?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Cancer took him. Exposure to Agent Orange.”
“I’m sorry, Kelly.”
“Don’t be.” She sighed, lifting one shoulder. “One way or another, we all have to go. Back to Dan and Hunter. She’s a lovely lady, prettier than most, and when she moved from Kissimmee, the single guys went nuts.”
“Go on.” He nodded with interest. Kissimmee—the dots started to connect.
“Dan did his best to attract her, but was shot down almost immediately.” Kelly swapped her damp dish towel with a fresh one, then resumed her work. “Mind you, he wasn’t the only dude she rejected. When Hunter arrived, she didn’t go out with anyone. No exceptions.” Kelly shook her head. “When she finally started dating, Dan took it as a personal insult. He’s never forgiven her. I think he should be grateful. Hunter ain’t…easy to understand.”
“And now?”
“He has a lousy opinion of Hunter and dislikes how she deals with the men in her life. Now he’s afraid you’re going to fall right into her spiderweb of intrigue and deception.” Kelly snickered, then flicked two fingers at Joe. “But not you. I don’t think our naïve Dan knows you that well. I’ve got you pegged, mister. You’re not eas
y to trick.”
“I, ah—”
Kelly’s demeanor changed abruptly. “I like you, Joe Reid. My instincts tell me you’re a straight shooter, and yet I get this funny feeling at the bottom of my belly. I’m keeping an eye on you.”
“Come on, Kelly. I’m not a bad—” Sudden angry voices by the front door cut off Joe’s response.
In that moment, Dan appeared out of the crowd. Smiling ear to ear, he slipped onto his stool. “I’ll have another, Kelly.” He slapped his empty mug on the counter.
But Kelly wasn’t listening. Her attention was riveted forward. She sighed, then turned to her husband. “Sweetheart, Aaron is out of control. Can you step in?”
Joe swiveled his stool in the direction Kelly looked.
Aaron held Hunter by the forearm, shaking her wildly. She stumbled, and her loaded tray fell to the floor with a loud crash of breaking glasses. Customers milling nearby bolted and scurried away.
“Hey, stop that!” Joe jumped to his feet.
“Don’t get involved,” Dan whispered, clutching his arm. “I told you yesterday. It was only a matter of time before it happened. You guessed it too. Aaron was on the way out. He’s pretty drunk right now, and he ain’t taking her rejection kindly. It’s what she does, Joe. She kicks ’em to the curb when they’ve outlived their usefulness.”
“Stay here if you like,” Joe snapped. “That scene is bad and could get worse. Pete’s going to have his hands full trying to subdue that fool. I can’t ignore it.”
“Whatever.” Releasing Joe’s arm, Dan turned his back to the commotion.
Joe zigzagged quickly through the crowd. He was taller than most and could monitor the situation. Curious onlookers had formed a ring around Pete, Aaron, and Hunter. Attempting to defuse the argument, Pete spoke to Aaron in gentle tones. Judging by his furious demeanor, Aaron didn’t want to listen. In fact, he shoved Pete on the chest as he reached for the front door. Hunter resisted, but the wet floor eliminated all traction, and her working flats slipped. One more tug and she’d be on the floor.
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