Gun Shy

by Ashley Bostock

  He typed up the list of previous employees and emailed it to Jim. He called Marilyn.

  "Lusting after Literature. This is Marilyn."

  He never called her work phone, but something inexplicable inside of him dialed this number.

  "Angel." He was certain he didn't have to say who was calling. "Are you busy?"

  She felt like a high schooler, the boy she wanted was actually calling?!?! Yea!

  Trying to conceal her smile, Marilyn answered, "I'm sorry, who is this? Is someone there?" She tried not to laugh.

  "Marilyn! It's Blake!" he sounded impatient.

  "I know! I was just teasing you," she felt bad. "What's up. Why didn't you call my cell phone?"

  "I'm not exactly sure. I'm sorry if I was so abrupt. I talked to the police," he felt bad. He hadn't meant to snap at her when she was only teasing him - something he did to her so often.

  "You did? Did they have something new to tell you? Tell me!" she demanded.

  "Wow. You really are a tiger. My tiger, just so we're clear."

  "Crystal. What's the news?" she asked hopefully.

  "The police are pretty certain that it was a Poudre Hops employee. The truck's back door was unlocked with its key and when they found the driver, he still had the key in his pocket. They did find unknown fingerprints on the lock."

  "How would someone get a key though?” Her mind was thinking of all different scenarios before Blake interjected, "Easily. From me. I have left my keys in my office for who knows how long with the truck key on them. Just lying on my desk." He was disgusted with himself.

  Marilyn didn't think she heard right. In a whiny tone she asked, "Really?" Of course that was true, he wasn't the type of person to beat around the bush.

  "Hard to believe, right? But yes, I'm a complete idiot."

  "You are not an idiot, Blake. You're trustworthy. All good people are trustworthy."

  Blake softened a little. How could this woman believe in him so much? She came into his life believing in him, he thought. No one had ever really treated him that way aside from family. He still felt sick to his stomach thinking that he practically gave the thief the key to the truck, but somehow talking to Marilyn made it seem more bearable.

  "I'm still mad at myself for never thinking I should protect my assets better. I guess I was just too trusting, that anyone paid that close of attention to my car keys and which keys might be on them." He changed the subject, “How is Lusting after Literature going today?"

  He could hear her smile, "It's good. Kay is here today so she and I are pulling books from my report I ran the other night - you know, the one that tells me which ones are more popular than others?"

  He couldn't help but grin, she was so freaking cute! "Yes, Angel, I remember. How would you feel about coming over to my place tonight? After work?"

  Marilyn stopped breathing. His place? All male? The thought excited her to no end. She would be able to see where he lives, how he lives, where he sleeps(!). No! Would she see where he sleeps? Was she ready for that? What sort of impression would that give him? That she was ready and willing to fuck? Oh boy, was she ready? She knew she was. Every single time she saw him, she could feel the dampness inside her panties, could feel the quickening inside her heart. She could feel the need low in her tummy. Yeah, she thought, she was ready.

  "I can't. I'm sorry, my parents called and my brother is coming over to their place tonight and I promised I would go. Maybe we can get together tomorrow night?" She was disappointed, but hoped he understood. Although they were technically seeing each other, her parents were having friends over and she didn't feel like it was the right time to introduce Blake.

  She could hear his intake of breath, "That's too bad, baby doll, I had some pretty good ideas of what we were going to do tonight...you know that whole 'you can do things to each other that don't include sex' conversation? Yup, my mind was getting creative."

  How could one sentence like this make her want to go into the women's bathroom and touch herself? She already had a hard time at work trying not to blush every time she passed by the romance section. She was saved from having to say much, when a customer walked up, "I have to go, I will call you soon. I have a customer. Bye."

  She hung up. She felt bad but what were her options? She could have responded but that would have been terribly embarrassing to the woman that was buying a self-improvement book.

  Blake stared at his phone. He wasn't sure if he should be irritated or happy. She hung up on him, she denied his request for dinner AND she basically told him that there was no way she was ready for him to meet her parents. The only part that bothered him, more than he cared to admit, was that his Angel didn't feel like he was worthy enough to meet her mother and father just yet. He tried ignoring it, but the feeling bothered him throughout the rest of the day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marilyn hadn't talked to Blake much the night of the dinner, so she decided the next day she would go to his work and surprise him. It was just after lunch so she hoped he was there; she desperately wanted to see him. No, correct that, she had to see him. It had been far too long since she'd had sex and it was getting to her. Yesterday, she entered the same book into her system four times in a row while her customer stared at her in befuddlement. She talked herself into it. She was ready. She wanted Blake more than she could remember ever wanting anyone. Today, she intended to let him know. She smiled at herself. She didn't intend to go to Poudre Hops and have sex with him right there, right on top of the summer ale keg! She just wanted to invite him over for ... dessert. Tonight!

  She pulled into the parking lot and turned the ignition off. She hopped out of her Jeep wearing her Army print shorts and her plain white tank top. Nothing sexy but she felt sexy and she felt sassy. And comfortable, ready to conquer the world. The brewery wasn't too busy today. The parking lot wasn't nearly half full so she hoped it wasn't too busy inside. She wanted just a few moments of alone time with him so she could make her intentions clear.

  Once inside, the bar area wasn't packed at all. There were a few people here and there having a drink. They looked like business people. She caught the waitress’s attention, grabbing her arm as she walked by.

  "I'm looking for Blake," she smiled.

  The waitress gave her a so-is-every-other-woman-in-here look and pointed to the far end of the lounge area, "He just went through there."

  Marilyn strolled through the bar past the bathrooms and stopped at the same doorway she had entered through the last time she was here. She stopped, hearing voices. She peeked through the doorway and saw Blake and another female standing comfortably close to each other. Something inside of her dropped, maybe it was her heart, she didn't know. Through the thundering of her heart she could hear the female talking.

  "You said last time was the last time and it wasn't. Come to my house tonight, you know you've missed me. Last week, you said you'd call and I haven't heard anything from you Blake. I was worried."

  At this point, Miss Priss had both of her arms up around Blake's shoulders and she was blatantly grinding herself into his body. She watched Blake as his hands slid up the woman's torso, much like he'd done with her not that long ago. Bile and fury rose up in her throat, she turned to walk, no run, out of there and ran right into Tyler. This was just getting worse and worse.

  "Whoa, Marilyn, slow down, where are you going? Marilyn!" Tyler yelled after her.

  Marilyn? Blake thought. He pushed his old flame away. What? He turned just in time to see Marilyn's backside flying down the hallway. What the fuck just happened? he thought. Tyler had an ugly smirk on his face that he'd really enjoy wiping off right now if he wasn't so set on going after Marilyn. He pushed past him. Shit. This was not good. He could already imagine Marilyn's non-stop mind over-thinking things and thinking the worst of what she saw. Damn, this woman was fast when she was mad. He practically had to run out of the brewery. Some customers glanced up at him in surprise, but he didn't care.

  He pushed th
rough the door and saw Marilyn pulling on the door handle of her Jeep, getting it open.

  "Marilyn, Marilyn, wait," he yelled at her. She stopped and turned, her gaze staring straight into his soul. As he got closer, he could see the wet sheen in her eyes. Oh, hell. But she didn't stay put, she climbed up into her Jeep and drove off without a backward glance.

  Marilyn couldn't believe she started to trust him. She should have known he was a womanizer, a cheater! Okay, maybe not a cheater, but ... scum. Yeah, he was scum. How could he pretend that he was so interested in her and wanted only her when he was obviously involved with another woman? They just met not long ago, why did she let him get under her skin? Why did this already hurt so much? How could she have let this happen so quickly? Who was that woman anyway?

  By the way she had her dirty hands all over Blake, it looked like someone he was intimate with. She did not like how that made her feel. She wanted Blake, well she did want him until she saw him with another woman. Now, she wanted her head, her heart, to get him out of her mind. She knew in her mind that she wanted to go slow with Blake and yet her heart was already feeling like it was heavily involved with the man. She was stupid, stupid, stupid! And she actually felt that on some unspoken, chemistry-riddled level, that he wasn't playing games with her. Were all of her instincts wrong? Clearly they were. How could she be so easily duped? She wanted to cry. She knew better than to get involved so hot and heavy, so quickly with a man she just met. This was exactly why! She was on the verge of crying but what good would that do? No, she needed to do something else. She flipped a bitch in the middle of Main Street and headed towards the shooting range.

  Blake was furious. He was furious with everyone. With Alana, Marilyn, Tyler and mostly himself. He knew he had only himself to blame for this fiasco but it felt good to blame everyone else right now too. He knew how Alana was. The moment he saw her walk into the brewery, he should have sent her packing. But no, he acted like a gentleman instead and this is what he got. One pissed-off woman, well now two-pissed off women but he didn't care about Alana. He had repeatedly told her no. No to sex. No to her advances. No to her invitations to go eat, drink, whatever. But she was relentless. He made the mistake of wining and dining her for a week too long. Although, at the time he ended things with her, she was totally fine. Agreed that it was mutual - that she too had other things going on her life and she didn't have time for this 'game.'

  Then one night they were out at the same bar with some mutual friends and he made the mistake of going home with her. They had sex and he went home that night. He didn't stay the night like she wanted, but ever since then, it was like he had given her a green light to come at him any time her heart desired.

  Like today, here she came wanting to get together tonight and he kept telling her no. That he was with someone else but Alana had just laughed. She wouldn't take no for an answer. They could have something on the side, she had said. No, that's not the kind of guy he was and she knew it. Ugghhhh, Blake ran his hand through his hair. He fucked this up with Marilyn all on his own. He had no feelings for Alana. None. In fact, with Marilyn in his life, it was hard for him to exactly remember what he found so attractive with Alana in the first place. Seeing her today, with half her tits hanging out of her way-too-tight shirt, repelled him. Her cackling laugh grated on his nerves. Hair spray caked on her head so thick a fly could get entangled and never come back out. No, ever since Marilyn came into his life, he had a hard time coming up with things he had, at one point, liked about Alana. Hell, some part of him deep, deep down that he refused to recognize, wondered what he saw in any of the women he had been with before Marilyn.

  Marilyn was easy-going and smart. She was always smiling and happy. She was ever the optimist, he had to admit. She was funny - she wasn't afraid to laugh at herself or at him for that matter. And he bet his small fortune that her heart was made of gold.

  In contrast to her virtues, he had dated women that were selfish, conceited, cared way too much about how they looked and were too afraid to get down and dirty. Their main goals were usually how they could get the most gifts from the best guys. Not his angel, though.

  After he cursed his heart out at Alana and told her he never wanted to see her again - to leave him the fuck alone, he stood alone in the parking lot debating his options. He could leave and drive to Marilyn's house, but that seemed too easy. Knowing her, she wouldn't be there. Or he could call her and hope like hell she would listen to him beg for her forgiveness and try to explain to her that what she saw was not Blake coming on to Alana at all but her trying to come on to him. And that no, he wasn't interested.

  It was a bad situation to begin with and was made worse with Marilyn thinking she saw something that held merit. He dialed her cell. No answer. He didn’t leave a message.

  Blake had grudgingly drug his feet back into work. Marilyn never responded to his text. He had paperwork to finish up and then he was heading over to her house and if he had to wait for her all night, then so be it. When he went back inside, Tyler was in the brew house. He avoided him. He didn't want to see him because he was still so pissed off, he knew Tyler would make a smart-ass comment and Blake would come unglued. He didn't really have any reason to be angry with Tyler, he thought. It was the satisfied smirk on his face when Blake went flying by him to chase down Marilyn that really irritated him. None of this was his fault. Still, Blake knew he still had feelings for Marilyn and somehow Tyler would just love to see this blow up on him.

  Well, he wasn't going to let that happen. Not if he had to sit on Marilyn's front porch for the rest of the day and into the night, he had to resolve this.

  Actually, the more he thought about it, he decided that wasn't all that bad of an idea. Once he finished this paperwork, he was going straight to her house and he would wait all damn night if he had to.

  Marilyn emptied her clip and hit the clip release and checked the chamber. She then set her stuff on the provided stand. She took off her safety glasses and head phones and switched the lever to bring her target paper back up the range. She unclipped the paper, checking out her hits. Not too shabby, if she had to say so herself. Her first round, she knew because when she got here she was still so upset, was not even within the target parameters. Her second and third rounds were much better. She actually shot within the target and managed to blaze up the bull’s-eye several times. Today, she had picked a traditional target for shooting. They had a variety to choose from. They had papers that had several smaller targets on them, some were printed with glass bottles on a fence as well as pumpkins and even some with deer. Shooting actually calmed her. It cleared her mind and helped her focus. It was like meditating for her.

  She packed her gun into its case and headed for the door.

  "Thanks, Bill. See you soon." She waved goodbye to the firearms instructor as she headed out the door.

  "Yep, see you soon. Take it easy out there."

  She got into her Jeep, rolled the windows down and with butterflies in her stomach, checked her phone. There was one missed call and one text from Blake. After reading it, she couldn't decide what to do. After shooting, she was a little more level-headed. She was not as pissed off anymore as she was hurt. Her heart hurt. Had she jumped to the wrong conclusions? She guessed it was possible but the way he had his arms around that woman, it looked like he was into it as much as she was. Her heart didn't want to believe that he was seeing someone and whispering the same sweet things into her ear as he was to someone else. What should she do? She needed more time to think about it. She ignored his text and headed for home.

  When she pulled up to her house Blake was sitting on her porch in one of her rocking chairs. Her traitorous heart skipped beats. Damn, she wanted to back out of the driveway and drive on! But at this moment, she didn't want to be a chicken shit. She wanted Blake to feel like crap for his misdeeds.

  But Jesus, he was gorgeous. He sat in the rocking chair with his long legs out in front of him, his hands folded behind his head. His hair
was messy like he had been running his hands through it. Yes, he was gorgeous scum, she thought. She hesitated with her hand on the door handle before she opened the door, their eyes met and held. She felt her heart re-break into a million pieces as she headed for the torture chamber of love.

  "What do you want Blake?" She tried sounding tough but instead it came out as barely a whisper.

  "I had to come and see you and explain what you saw. I've been here for quite a while waiting for you to come home." He reached out for her.

  "No," She backed away and saw the hurt in his eyes. "You do not get to touch me anymore."

  "Marilyn, please. Can we go inside and talk or do you want me to pour my heart out right here where all of your neighbors can hear?"

  "Fine," she muttered.

  She unlocked her door and walked inside, not even holding the screen door for him. She knew she was being childish but looking at his gorgeousness and knowing he was seeing someone else, tore her up. She threw her stuff on the table and took her gun box into her bedroom. She took her shoes off, glanced in the mirror, confirmed she looked like hell, and went back out to Blake.

  He had his back to her and as much as she hurt, she couldn't help admire the strong lines of his back, his awfully tight ass and the way he kept flexing his hands.

  "You're inside. Pour your heart out," sarcasm poured from her lips.

  "I wasn't doing anything to hurt you. Alana just showed up out of the blue. I don't want anything to do with her. I want you, Marilyn. I want to be with you. You know that. I had relations with her a while ago and she doesn’t matter to me. What you saw was her coming on to me and before I could push her away, I heard Tyler saying your name. I'm sorry, Angel, I didn't mean to hurt you. I realize now that I should have sent her on her way the moment I saw her but I wasn't thinking clearly. I have no feelings for her. Look at me. I’m a wreck over you – crazy about you." His eyes were pleading with hers, showing her he was sincere.