by S D Hegyes
“Your language isn’t very ladylike,” the stranger pointed out, but she saw there was a smile on his face, and his eyes sparkled with mirth.
She snorted. “I’m a far cry from a lady,” she said. She turned her attention back to Brad, who seemed to cower before the stranger. “Now, why do you intimidate him but I can’t?” she asked, gesturing Brad’s direction. “I swear, if he acted like this around me, it would make things so much easier, and I wouldn’t be ready to go to jail for murder.”
The stranger chuckled, drawing her attention to him again. He smiled at her without looking at her fully. “I believe you owe Miss Phantom an apology, Mr. Coville.”
“I’m sorry, Sorsha.”
“What the fuck?” Sorsha stared at the stranger incredulously. She’d heard that kind of tone from someone before when they talked to her mother. . . Was he. . . ?
He smiled at her, but then his gaze hardened when he looked at Brad. “Mr. Coville, we have a strict no harassment policy. If I’m understanding the situation correctly, you haven’t been adhering to that policy very well, have you?”
Brad’s eyes widened, and he stuttered out words and phrases Sorsha couldn’t follow. She stared between the two men, confused.
“I want you to think about your future with the company over the weekend, Mr. Coville. Now, I suggest you leave before Miss Phantom punches you again. I’ll admit that’s been the highlight of my night thus far.” The stranger lifted his glass to his mouth, his form relaxed and his free hand in his pocket.
Sorsha took the chance to look him over. He filled out a suit well, but his tie was loose around his neck. His dark hair was combed back and styled perfectly. He seemed both out of place and right at home in the bar. She couldn’t catch the color of his eyes. Even when he looked down at her, shadows hid them from her.
“Have a pleasant rest of your evening, Miss Phantom,” the stranger said, tipping his chin down and raising his glass in toast to her. “I imagine you won’t be staying much longer. It was a pleasure meeting you finally. I must say, I’ve found it rather. . .” He paused and his shadowed eyes lit up with amusement as the corner of his mouth quirked up in a cocky grin. “Interesting.” With a final nod in her direction, he left her alone. Brad had long since disappeared.
What had just happened? “Wait,” she called after him, but when she turned around, he’d disappeared, and she could see Irene making her way over.
“Do you know who you just spoke to?” Irene asked in a loud whisper.
“No. Where did he go?” Sorsha looked over Irene’s head. Finally, she looked at Irene. “Do you know who he is?”
“Of course, and you should too.”
“I should?”
“He’s the owner of the TBDC. Frank Thirst.”
2
There was an irony in her situation, Sorsha knew, but it wasn’t funny. Still, she couldn’t help the bitter chuckle that escaped her throat as she walked down the side of the road, her heels dangling from two fingers.
Welcome to my walk of shame, she thought. Don’t women usually do this the morning after spending the evening with a man?
She didn’t know, and she didn’t have anyone she could ask either. She wouldn’t call Irene. Irene would just worry about her, even though she’d spent the past thirty minutes assuring the young woman she’d be fine.
Of course she’d be fine. The night was still warm, despite it only being a couple weeks until Christmas. Predictions stated it would fall below freezing during the weekend, but for now, Sorsha didn’t even need a jacket.
Welcome to North Carolina, Sorsha thought with a bitter grin. Where one moment it’s hot enough to make your balls sweat off, and the next it’s so cold your tits turn into daggers.
She giggled at the thought. Where had she first heard it? Was it Tanner who’d claimed that when they’d been stationed at Ft. Bragg together? She couldn’t remember. In the end, it didn’t matter.
There were other dangers than the temperature, Sorsha knew, and those were the ones Irene worried about. This particular neighborhood could still be a dangerous place. It had cleaned up over the years, but there were still people who hung around being a general nuisance to anyone who walked by.
She didn’t worry about those people though. She knew she exuded enough of a dangerous air herself that she seemed to repel the worst of the worst. In the past two years she’d been living there, after her military career ended, she had only ever had problems once.
It wasn’t like she’d be an easy target anyway. She wasn’t drunk, and her bare feet were tough enough to handle the pavement and cement she walked upon. The only thing she had to fear were glass shards, and she didn’t think there’d be any on the sidewalk.
Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t careful. She tread carefully, dancing around questionable objects every once in a while and walking in the grass when it was available. She also stayed under the light of the street lamps.
Her eyesight was better in the dark than that of most people, but that didn’t mean she would let anyone take her by surprise and drag her off into the dark. It didn’t matter that Wagers was just down the road from the apartment complex where she lived.
It wasn’t the first time she’d walked home from the bar. Then again, most of the time she wore a shirt and pants with a pair of boots rather than a dress and heels.
Shit-kickers, she often called her boots when Irene wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“They aren’t classy,” Irene had told Sorsha on more than one occasion. “There’s no way you can find a date wearing those in a bar.”
Not that Sorsha ever joined Irene with the intention of bringing a man home with her. She’d dated enough to know it just wasn’t something she was interested in at the moment. She had other means of finding relief if she ever had an itch to scratch.
Blinking, Sorsha took in her surroundings. She’d made it further than she’d thought and had left the worst part of the neighborhood. Still, she shouldn’t have been so caught up in her thoughts. If she had run into trouble, she might have found herself at a disadvantage. That wasn’t something she could afford.
With a sigh, she leaned against the side of the building to her right. It was the last one before a long strip of empty lots. She lifted her foot and rubbed the bottom of it, hating the fact that she’d worn heels. She wanted her boots.
“Never again. I’ll keep my boots. Thank you. These damned heels have caused me enough trouble for the evening.” She lowered her foot and picked up the other, rubbing it too.
Then she straightened and strode past the building, skirting to the right of the sidewalk and stepping into the thick grass growing in the first of the empty lots. The grass tickled her toes, but she only closed her eyes with a smile and a heavy sigh.
After a moment, she began walking again, without opening her eyes or leaving the grass. She lifted her arm and dangled the heels over her shoulder, and she placed her free hand on her hip.
The road before her was straight and clear of any other life. As long as she didn’t stray from the path, she could walk for a bit with her eyes closed and enjoy herself. She hummed as she walked.
A few moments later, something rammed into her left shoulder and sent her spinning.
She winced as her hip twisted, sending pain shooting through her bad leg, but before that could finish registering, she was falling toward the ground. Her eyes jerked open, shock warping her mouth into an “O” and she stretched out her arms to break her fall on instinct even as it occurred to her that might be a bad idea.
Her body never reached the ground though. Someone with reflexes as quick as her own were usually, reached out and snagged her arm, yanking her back up and against a hard muscled chest. Her fingers spread out against a man’s covered pectorals reflexively and appreciatively.
She looked up and met his eyes. They were almond-shaped and hooded, dark as the midnight sky, and mesmerizing. She swallowed hard as she found herself drowning in his gaze.
&
nbsp; Sorsha blinked and studied the man. He was sharp angles and hard planes, lithe and tall, although not much taller than herself. Dark hair hid underneath a black hat with a state emblem, and as she looked over him, she saw he wore black slacks, black boots, and a gray shirt her fingers threatened to slip inside between buttons.
Clearing her throat, she stepped back, pushing her hands against the hard muscles of his chest as she did so.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you like that.”
His voice. He had a hint of a strange accent she didn’t recognize. There was something familiar about the sound of it, but when she delved deeper into her memory to draw out why, she came up blank.
Sorsha cursed her bad memory and smiled at him. “No worries,” she told him. “I wasn’t paying attention either, and I know better than to do that.”
She did, but. . . Where had he come from? The road had been empty both ways when she’d closed her eyes.
Squinting, she raked her eyes up and down over the man and hummed in appreciation. The man wore a work uniform, she figured, and it hid much of him from her view, but she could appreciate what she saw either way.
Maybe Irene wasn’t far off the mark. Maybe she just liked her men a little more exotic. There was no doubt in her mind that the man before her came from some Asian descent. It showed in his eyes and jewel undertones of his skin.
She gave him a warm smile and cocked her head to the side, confusion drawing her brown down. “I feel like I know you from somewhere.” She tapped her bottom lip, and watched his gaze shift down to her lips.
Of course, Revlon Fire and Ice does it again, she thought with satisfaction. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup. Eyeliner every once in a while, and mascara hardly ever since her lashes were already long and dark, but she couldn’t resist a good red lipstick.
The man shook his head, as if dusting away naughty thoughts she could only guess at. That was fine. She wouldn’t admit aloud that her own train of thought ran a similar track.
It had been a long time since she’d been attracted to anyone. Before the accident that ended her military career actually.
Thinking about that brought dark thoughts about the head trauma she’d suffered and the memories she’d lost on her road to recovery.
Still, that was something from her past. It was better to focus on the now, and the delicious man before her. He looked worse off than her at the moment anyway.
He frowned, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t, his mouth and brow twisting in strange ways.
“Ummm. . . Are you alright?”
His dark eyes shifted up and met hers, and he licked his lips. “I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t think we know each other. I can’t imagine I’d forget someone like you.”
She frowned, pursing her lips together. “My mistake. Sorry about running into you.”
“I believe it was I who ran into you though.” He seemed to notice he still had a hold of her upper arm. He apologized again and released her.
Sorsha laughed as she stepped further away. The more distance between them, the easier it was to think with a clear head rather than allowing desire to wash over her.
“I’m sorry, but after the way my night has gone, I’m sure my laughing at the absurdity of this situation seems strange, but your behavior is humble and cute compared to that of some of the men at the party I just left.” She winked at him.
He glanced over her and seemed to notice for the first time that her dress was wet. He frowned, a growl making the corner of his mouth twitch. “Are you alright?”
“Hmm? Me? I’m fine. I already feel better. I punched the man who made me spill my drink. Misogynist asshole deserved it and more.” She tilted her head and gave him another once-over. “This little event sweetens the deal more, officer.” Her eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her? “I’m sorry. That’s rude. I’m so sorry. It seems my friend is rubbing off on me tonight.” She gave him an apologetic smile.
He rubbed his knuckles against his chest, as if polishing his nails, and lifted them for inspection. “Yes, I’ve been told I’m quite dashing a time or two.”
She burst out laughing, caught in their flirtation with one another. “Use that line on every woman you try to woo?”
“Who said I’m trying to woo you? I’m just apologizing for running into you.” He winked at her though.
“Damn. I’d hate to see it when you’re actually trying to seduce someone then. Almost feel sorry for the poor girl, and I haven’t met her.”
“That bad?”
She shrugged one shoulder and placed one hand on her hip, tossing her heels back over her shoulder with the other. A smile tugged at her lips, reaching her eyes before her mouth. “Could be worse, I guess,” she told him.
“Any pointers?”
She tapped at her lips again, trying to think about what Irene found attractive in the guys she took home. It was so different in her own tastes in so many ways. “The corny jokes work sometimes. Depending on who’s delivering them.” She gave him another once-over. “They’d probably work for you if you can follow up and actually be a decent guy.”
“Care to give me some examples?” he asked. “Say, over dinner sometime?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but both their phones rang—first his and then hers moments after. They both jumped, startled at the interruption, and then laughed. She pulled her phone from her purse even as he pulled his from his breast pocket.
“I have to take this,” they said at the same time. They laughed again.
“Sorry for bumping into you,” he told her.
She nodded. “Sorry for not paying attention to where I was going.” She gave him a little wave and turned away, answering her phone at the same time. “Hi, Charlotte.”
A glance over her shoulder revealed the man pressing the call button of his own phone and saying, “Yes, Noah?”
She returned her attention to her call. Charlotte didn’t call often. They preferred to text one another since there was a two-hour difference between Montana and North Carolina.
Sorsha hadn’t been back to Montana since she’d officially left the military, not even to see Charlotte. Of course, her friend tried to convince her to visit, but it was better that Sorsha didn’t return. There were too many bad memories.
The scandal that befell her before she joined the military didn’t help matters.
It had been years since she’d seen either of her parents, and there wasn’t a lot of love lost between her and her father, but she missed her mother.
“Is everything alright? It’s pretty late.”
“It’s not that late here, remember? Everything’s fine, but tonight was the Christmas party. Tell me about it.”
Ah. She didn’t remember telling Charlotte about the holiday party, but obviously she had. She threw her purse over her shoulder, wishing the bag was large enough to carry her shoes as well, and started walking again. It would be easier to talk to her friend from the comfort of her couch.
“Holiday party. You know how everything has to be politically correct these days.”
She glanced over her shoulder one last time, drinking in the man she’d run into. His back was to her, and he still stood where they’d parted ways. She couldn’t stop herself from checking him out. His backside was just as delicious as his front. She licked her lips.
“I’m sorry. Holiday party then. Did you meet anyone new?”
There it was. The moment Sorsha had been waiting for. She wondered how long her friend waited to call her just to discuss the party. She smiled and shook her head. Leave it to Charlotte to ask intimate questions. At least she wasn’t as blunt about it as Irene, and obviously she knew Sorsha well enough to know Sorsha would leave the party alone.
Her mind wandered to the dark-haired stranger who’d confronted her and Brad, and then to the other stranger she’d bumped into minutes before. She couldn’t shake the feeling she knew him from somewhere, but damn if s
he could remember where. Still, the feeling she’d gotten around him was much better than that she’d had around Brad and Frank.
Her parents were similar in that they both thought Sorsha’s problems would be fixed with a man in her life. Their views on how were different though, which made Sorsha happy.
Her father believed women were the property of the men they lived with. First their father and then the husband their father chose for them. Sorsha had never been good at being obedient. She wouldn’t consign herself to the ways he did, and it put them at ends with one another.
When the man her father had chosen as her husband was first found dead at the gates of the community, Sorsha had been the first suspect. However, his death was deemed accidental, and the police found her innocent of any wrong-doing.
“I did, but he’s my boss, so I doubt that’s going anywhere.”
“How have you not met your boss?”
“He owns the company. He doesn’t come down to the clinic that often.” Had he ever?
“Oh,” Charlotte said, disappointment clear. Then the shock came through as she said, “Oh!”
Sorsha laughed. “He threatened to fire an employee.”
“Brad?”
“Brad.” She smiled. There were no secrets between her and Charlotte. Almost no secrets.
“Please tell me you lit his ass on fire first.”
“Charlotte!” Sorsha laughed. She looked around to see if anyone could hear what they were talking about, but there was no one else in sight. She’d left the man she’d run into far behind and her building was in sight.
Disappointment laced through her, but then it dissipated. She had better things to do than drool over the Asian man in an officer’s uniform.
“I punched him when he grabbed me. That count?”
“Of course.”
“Then, yes, I lit his ass on fire.” Sorsha swiped at her loose hair as a cold breeze threatened to tangle it. She shivered. The sooner she got home, the happier she’d be.
“I’m proud of you.” At least someone was.