Right Amount of Wrong: A Standalone Romance

by Bijou Hunter

  Gunnar snickers. “I have to admit I’ve grabbed a few purses in my time. I ought to warn you that none of those women got their wallets back.”

  “Why won’t you tell me where you live?”

  “This is the first time you’ve asked. I live on Baltimore Avenue in one of those tiny apartments. I’m never there, but it’s where I keep my clothes,” he says and then adds, “Along with the purses I steal.”

  “I once stole an ice cream sandwich from Archie’s Convenience Stop.”

  “Wild woman.”

  Grinning, I sip the wine cooler before thinking better of getting drunk around this tempting man.

  “I’ll drink water.”

  “We have other stuff in the fridge. Sprite and apple juice.”

  Opening the refrigerator, I decide on apple juice since I miss the crappy choices from home. Most nights, I ate Champagne’s bad cooking and drank juice or milk with dinner. I never complain because I learned long ago how my sister-in-law doesn’t handle criticism well.

  “Interesting choice,” Gunnar says when I return. “When I was a teenager, I’d slip booze into my juice. My parents had no clue until Heidi ratted me out. Who’d think she’d be a snitch?”

  “You ought to thank her for stopping you from becoming a drunk.”

  “No, I’m not doing that. She’s my younger sister. Compliments and words of appreciation only encourage her, and that’s not my job.”

  “What did your parents do when they found out you were a teenage lush?”

  “Mom gave me a seriously disappointed look that made me feel like crap. Dad waterboarded me with booze. I think her technique stuck with me longer.”

  “Waterboarded you?” I balk.

  “His club brothers held me down, and he spilled booze on my face. Not real waterboarding, but it sounds cooler than ‘my dad poured beer on my face.’”

  “Did it work or are you still a lush?” I ask, eyeing the beer in his hand.

  “I’m a casual drinker.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  “Big talk considering how we met.”

  Grinning, I shrug. “If I drank more often, I’d probably hold my liquor better.”

  “That’s what they all say,” he teases, and I can’t help laughing.

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t embarrassed about my behavior that night, but I’m glad it happened with someone like you.”

  “I didn’t even cop a feel,” he says, causing me nearly to spit up my drink.

  “Good to know.”

  Gunnar leans his head back and laughs, but I’m not sure if he’s amused by my reaction or the idea of him missing out on boob action. I only know his laughter makes me laugh again. For a second, I forget about my promise not to settle in the way everyone settles. I only remember how smoking hot Gunnar is and how I wouldn’t mind knowing how he kisses.

  Everything is rosy until the sun disappears. The new darkness steals my confidence and happy thoughts. Every angst I’ve ever suffered about sex and men rises to the surface until I feel threatened even in a quiet house, watching silly sitcoms.

  The reality is I’m alone with a man I barely know in a part of Pema I’m unfamiliar with. My safety is completely dependent on what Gunnar decides to do. Also, on whether the man with the gun finds us and finishes what he started earlier.

  With so many ugly possibilities looming, I begin a mental countdown to when the sun will return my easy smiles.

  11

  Ogre

  ⊱✿ ✿⊰

  Vidalia doesn’t loosen up over time as I hoped. Rather than chilling on the couch with me, she begins pacing just after the sun goes down.

  At first, her fear is clearly directed toward me. Every time I speak to her, she flinches and steps back. By ten, though, she’s stopped pacing and now sits on the couch facing the front door. Her terrified gaze makes me wonder what she fears might come crashing into the house, but I don’t dare ask. Vidalia has made clear I’m not a safe option for her.

  I’d be lying to myself if I claimed my feelings weren’t hurt by her distrust. I’ve been on my best fucking behavior all day. Kept my cussing to a minimum? Check. Worked on not crowding her which Heidi claims I do with people? Double check. Offered her whatever she wanted even the chance to ignore me? Triple Check.

  What more do I need to do to make her see I’m as harmless as an asshole like me can be? Why can’t Vidalia see I’m a sap when it comes to her affections? How am I going to change her mind when she won’t share with me?

  I’ve long started sulking by the time I notice Vidalia staring at me.

  “What?”

  “Can we watch a horror movie?” she asks and turns her gaze to the front door.

  “If you’re scared, won’t a scary movie make you feel worse?”

  “When I was little, and something bad happened, watching a horror movie made me focus on the fake scary stuff instead of the real scary stuff.”

  Relieved to have her speaking to me, I give in quickly. “Let me see what we have.”

  Vidalia’s gaze flashes from window to window, watching for movement she won’t find.

  “It’s so quiet here,” she says, and her words clearly aren’t a compliment.

  “The neighbors have a rooster that’ll crow in the morning.”

  Vidalia only nods. Her eyes remain cagey long after I turn on one of the Evil Dead movies.

  “No one will hurt you here,” I say when tears fill her eyes.

  “You don’t know. That guy could come, and it’s so dark outside. How would you even know he was out there?”

  Feeling like an asshole, I take Vidalia’s right hand and keep it snuggly in mine.

  “That guy is on the run. He wants to get away from trouble, not look for it,” I say and then add when she isn’t convinced, “If he did come here… No, scratch that. If anyone came here and tried to hurt you, I would end them.”

  I make her fingers trace my scarred eyebrow. “I know I look like I’ve had my ass handed to me in all those fights I was in, but I won every single one. I can take a beating without giving up. When I face an opponent, I turn off my fear and pain. I shut it all down until I only see the guy’s defeat. So, trust that I will not let anyone hurt you.”

  Vidalia intently studies my face, searching it for lies. “I can’t be here. It’s too quiet and away from everything, and I—”

  The screaming from the TV distracts Vidalia for a moment. When she looks back at me, she struggles against tears.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Tell me what you need.”

  Vidalia doesn’t answer. Falling silent, she rests her head against my chest and watches the movie. I catch her looking at the door occasionally. She also jumps and covers her face during especially violent movie scenes.

  “I want to stay in the living room until the sun comes up,” she says without looking at me. “I can’t relax until then.”

  “I’ll stay with you then, but maybe after the movie, we watch something lighter. All this gore is making me worry about demons and crap.”

  Vidalia lifts her head and grins. “I thought you could handle any opponent. Don’t you think you could take a demon?”

  “I’d give it my best try,” I say and rub my head. “If it comes down to that, I’ll hold off the demons while you make a run for it.”

  Still smiling, Vidalia rests her head against my chest and nuzzles the hard muscles. She relaxes in my arms while we watch the over the top bloody end of the movie.

  Once the film ends, Vidalia sits up and studies me. “I wouldn’t leave you to die with the demons.”

  “I know,” I whisper, caressing her silky cheeks with my scruffy knuckles. “Running and hiding doesn’t come naturally for you. That’s why you’re on edge.”

  “Or maybe it’s because a scary guy took a shot at me,” she says, sitting back on the couch and looking around. “But mostly I think I’m not used to such a quiet place. At home,
I share a room with two kids. Even when they’re at school, the house is loud. My sister-in-law is always on the phone, and the TV is always on. The neighbors’ dogs bark constantly, and we’re near a train track. This kind of quiet you have here makes me feel unsafe. It’s like I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Do you miss the chaos?”

  “I didn’t think I’d miss it, but the silence here freaks me out.”

  “If you were on your own and could live anywhere you wanted,” I ask while wrapping a lock of her red hair around my finger, “would you still want the noise or would you get used to the quiet?”

  “My plan has been for a long time to get an apartment after I’ve saved up enough to buy a car. Apartments aren’t usually very quiet.”

  “There are apartments and houses for rent in rural areas.”

  “Nothing I’d be able to afford.”

  “Let’s say you could.”

  “Why, Gunnar?” she asks, glancing at where I still tease her hair. “Do you want to live in the country, and I’m auditioning as your woman?”

  “Yes.”

  Vidalia blinks rapidly and then looks around. I guess I was supposed to lie, but that thought never occurred to me. I’ve put my cards on the table from the beginning with her. Well, except for the ruse to get her to the house. Otherwise, I’ve been as honest as a man can get.

  “We kissed one time, and I was drunk. Why would you even think about me living in the country with you?”

  “It was a great fucking kiss.”

  Vidalia fights a shiver after hearing my words. Regaining her cold demeanor, she asks, “Are you lonely? Is that why you’ve latched onto this fantasy about me?”

  “You say things like latching on and fantasy to make me seem stupid, but I’m chasing you like a man chases a woman he wants. Just because you told me no doesn’t change how I feel.”

  “It should.”

  “Shoulda, woulda, coulda as my mother would say.”

  Vidalia watches me for a long time, and I worry she’s putting things together. I know she won’t ask to go home immediately because she’s still freaked out about the dark. I catch her glancing at the door more than once, and then her gaze scans the covered windows. She’s on guard for bad guys, or demons, or whatever else might cause concern in her pretty head.

  “I’d be your friend all day long,” she says, picking her words carefully, “but I can’t be anything more. Even if I want to, I can’t.”

  “I get that,” I lie.

  “You’re the first guy I’ve told no that I’ve wished I could give another answer, but that doesn’t change my mind about not dating.”

  “You’re special to me too.”

  Vidalia rolls her eyes like I’m an idiot she’s forced to tolerate. Before my ego gets too bruised, I notice the rosy pink spreading over her cheeks.

  My sweet Vidalia doth protest too much. She can blow me off as much as she wants, but I’m under her skin as much as she’s under mine.

  12

  Vidalia

  ⊱✿ ✿⊰

  The sun comes up, and my fears ease, which would make more sense if I hadn’t nearly been shot in broad daylight. My lack of logic doesn’t change how I rest easily after dawn. Gunnar leaves me in the guest room and goes to sleep in the other.

  Waking up at nearly three, I sit in bed and consider how stupid I am about Gunnar. Life isn’t nearly as complicated as I make it. It’s quite simple in fact. I like Gunnar. He’s handsome and sweet to me, and I’ll spend eternity fantasizing about what could have been. My attraction to him doesn’t change anything.

  Needing a distraction, I check my phone to see messages from Reg, Champagne, and Fern. I call my brother to say I’m fine and it’ll be another day or so. He grunts and mumbles empty threats toward whoever is causing me trouble. In the end, he lets me go without making too much of a stink.

  I don’t call Champagne, figuring Reg will update her. Besides, she’s a gossip, and I refuse to be the focus of the half-truths she’ll tell the neighbors.

  Fern picks up right away, always more focused on her phone than the people around her.

  “Where are you?” she immediately asks.

  “Staying with a friend until a problem gets worked out.”

  “What problem and more importantly, what friend?”

  Fern and I are only friends out of convenience. As much as we like each other, if we lived more interesting lives, I have no doubt we’d have left each other behind long ago.

  “I can’t get into the details.”

  “Bull. Is your friend a guy?” she asks in a hushed voice.

  “Yes, and I’ll tell you all about it when I get back home. We’ll meet for lunch or something.”

  “I want to know now.”

  “Well, I want to win the lottery and live on a secluded island with no phone reception. I guess we’ll both end up disappointed.”

  “No phone? Does your secret problem involve a head injury because I wouldn’t give up my phone in a million years?”

  “I only called to let you know I was okay.”

  “Are you, though? If you’re being held against your will, can you tell me the truth?”

  “Do I sound like I’m being held against my will?”

  “Maybe the island with no phone thing was a signal. Should I call the cops?”

  “If you do, I swear you’ll never get the naughty details when I get home.”

  Fern takes a moment to weigh my safety against the chance to hear good gossip. Bored most days, she doesn’t need long to decide that calling the cops is a bad idea. I hang up and think about Gunnar somewhere in the house.

  Breathing against the palm of my hand, I find my breath rank. I suspect I look a mess too, but there’s no avoiding Gunnar. As soon as I open the door, he’s right there in the hallway waiting for me.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks as his size blocks the light coming from the living room.

  “Okay. Can I use the restroom?”

  Gunnar studies my face, searching for something. Whatever he wants from me, he finds based on how his facial muscles relax.

  “Sure. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Shuffling past him, I hurry into the bathroom where I brush my teeth and untangle my hair. No amount of primping will remove the lines from where I slept on my face. I do my best to look decent, all while reminding myself how Gunnar will never be more than a friend.

  Gunnar immediately destroys my confidence by looking too fricking sexy to be real.

  Stretching until his fingertips scratch the ceiling, he reveals every muscle from his lean waist to his ripped shoulders. Even from across the room, Gunnar’s skin looks hot to the touch. I hate imagining our bodies ever knowing each other. Or his big hands on my not so big breasts. Despite my antipathy with all things sexual, I am aroused by the sight of him looking so yummy after his shower.

  “A guy from the club dropped off a few groceries along with sandwiches,” Gunnar says as soon as he sees me watching him.

  “Any news about the guy from the alley?”

  Gunnar stares as if confused about my question. Eventually nodding, he gives me a quick smile. “They got him on the run.”

  “You said that before. Do you know when I can go home?”

  “What’s the hurry?” he asks, leaning back against the counter and crossing his massive arms. “Being here is like having a vacation from work and sharing a room with kids. Why would you want to leave already?”

  “I’m not on vacation. I’m hiding from a man with a gun.”

  “He won’t hurt you. I promised I wouldn’t let him.”

  Twisting my hair into a loose braid, I nod in response to his words. Gunnar uncrosses his arms, walks to me, and cups my jaw.

  “Let me take care of you. You take care of your family, and you work hard. Let me help you be lazy for a day or two.”

  His touch makes me tense. My heart wants him to be what I need while my body craves the simple pleasure he offers. My he
ad, though, demands I remain calm and think of the big picture.

  Gunnar can keep me safe. What I do or don’t feel for him matters less than living to see another day.

  Running with my brain’s plan to play things cool, I smile for Gunnar and accept his offer to eat a sandwich. Then I ditch my common sense and take a wine cooler from the fridge. Booze might not make me smart, but it’ll ease the doubts eating at me.

  That’s the plan anyway, but Drunk Vi has her own ideas.

  13

  Ogre

  ⊱✿ ✿⊰

  Vidalia downs her second Bahama Mama wine cooler not long after finishing her sandwich. I drink my beer and watch her like I’ve never seen a girl before. Her red hair hangs seductively around her face where her freckles beg me to touch them. I’ll keep my hands to myself for now. But if she keeps grinning in my direction, I don’t know how long I’ll behave.

  “It’ll be dark soon,” she says after cleaning her plate. “Can we sit outside for a bit?”

  “We can do whatever you want.”

  Vidalia smiles in a way that tells me the alcohol has gone straight to her pretty head. I suspect tonight will end well or she’ll hate me by tomorrow.

  We walk onto the wooden deck my dad and I built a few summers back. I sit on the bench and look out at the woods just behind the small yard.

  “What’s your home like?” I ask her.

  “It’s not too small, but there are six of us living there.”

  “Six? I thought your brother has two kids.”

  “Yeah. Champagne’s mom stays in the third bedroom. It’s a nice enough house but not meant for so many people.”

  “How long you been there?”

  “I moved out of my mom’s house when I was fifteen, but I was barely living there by then anyway.”

  “How come?”

  “Her boyfriend wanted to fuck me,” she casually says, too buzzed to care about the shock value of her words. “He’d been sniffing around me for a while. Champagne claims some men hook up with women with kids, so that they can get to their prey. My sister-in-law likes to watch crime shows and thinks she’s a fucking cop.”