Love Untamed

by Ra'Chael Ohara

  As I get closer to the door, I can hear country music blasting on the radio. I take a second to survey the parking lot and see that there’s only two cars.

  The warmth that engulfs me as soon as I clear the door has me just barely biting back a sigh of appreciation. Of course the heavy wooden door behind me closes with a loud bang and draws the attention of the only other person in the bar, an older man with long silver hair and a face full of hair as well.

  When his gaze snaps to mine, his eyes go wide. Then he takes in my appearance and I swear he smirks. “Hi,” I say cheerfully and hold up my hand in a lame wave. He tips his head at me in acknowledgment.

  “Uh, Brantley, you got company.” He laughs, but says no more. Rude.

  Just as I’m about to say something else, a man comes out from a door leading to the back. He’s wiping his hands on a white rag so his eyes are focused on his hands, but when his head comes up and he looks at me, all the air is sucked out of my lungs.

  Holy heck, this man is huge! I’m talking at least six-foot-seven. He’s a giant compared to me, but his height is nothing compared to the muscles that sculpt his body. The sleeves of the black Henley he’s wearing look like they are about to bust wide open. He has to be about two hundred and fifty pounds, and none of it is fat.

  I take a few steps deeper into the bar, needing to get a better look. Crap, the more I see, the better he looks. His eyes are forest green, so vibrant.

  The bottom half of his face is hidden by a nicely groomed, but full beard. I have the sudden urge to run my fingers through it. Slow down, Eva. Not that I’ve thought that much about relationships because, other than Elliot, I’ve never really had a boyfriend. I was never allowed. I’ve never found beards attractive. Elliot shaves every morning. But on this guy? It’s the sexiest thing I have ever seen.

  His dark blonde hair has to be long, but I can’t tell how long because he has it tied in a knot on top of his head. Since when did a bun on a guy become attractive? The men in South Carolina are clean cut, so that’s the kind of man I’ve always gravitated to, but this guy is rugged in a way that’s so fiercely attractive I’m fighting against my body’s reactions to walk closer to him.

  The tribal tattoos covering his left arm start at his wrist and dance all the way up until they disappear behind the Henley sleeve he has pushed up to his elbow. Yes, this man is the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.

  I shake my head when mystery man clears his throat. When my eyes snap back to his face, his eyebrow is raised and my face instantly heats because I know mystery man just caught me drooling over him.

  “Are you lost?” he asks. The rough timbre of his voice makes me shiver. My sex clenches. Oh, Lord. When I notice mystery man’s eyes grow impatient, I snap back from the dirty thoughts my mind was wandering to.

  What’s he looking at me like that for? Crap, he asked me something, didn’t he? What was it? Focus, Eva! Oh yeah, right. “No, I’m not lost. Why would you ask me that?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  He runs his dark eyes over me, then over my Louie Vuitton luggage and gives me a ‘you’re kidding, right?’ look. That only serves to tick me off. He doesn’t know me. How dare he judge me!

  “Never mind,” he mumbles, gaining a chuckle from the old man nursing his beer at the bar.

  My spine goes straight and I snap. In the past month, it’s been confirmed that I’m adopted. I gained and lost a grandpa in the matter of seconds. I became a millionaire and inherited land in a town in Alaska I’ve never heard of, a town I doubt anyone has ever heard of. The only mom I have ever known has put her need for money above her daughter’s own happiness. Oh, and let’s not forget I walked in on my fiancé screwing someone I once considered a friend, so it will be over my dead body before I sit in this bar and let this sexy as sin stranger judge me.

  “My name is Eva Jones. I’m here to meet Kim Smith. My cell phone is dead, and I’m cold. Would it be possible for you to point me in the direction of a pay phone?” I snap and then add sarcastically, “Please?”

  My rant earns me another laugh from the old man and a smile from the bartender. Leaning his elbows on the bar, he tilts his head to the back hallway but doesn’t take his eyes from mine. “Pay phone’s back there,” he says with his smile still in place.

  Grabbing the handles of my suitcase, I give him a tight smile and mumble “Thanks” before making my way to the back hall.

  After searching for a quarter in one of my coat pockets and pulling out Kim’s number from the other, I deposit the money and dial her. Nothing. I get nothing but dead air. I try again. Nothing but dead air.

  The dang thing doesn’t work. I slam it down on the hook and stomp out to the infuriating bartender. No surprise, he’s waiting there with an arrogant smile on his face. “It doesn’t work,” I say between clenched teeth.

  “I know.” He smirks. I take a calming breath. This is a game to him, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to play along. “You didn’t ask if it worked. You asked if I had one,” he explains. Then I decide to throw this whole calming crap out the window.

  I catch sight of his pink, full lips peeking out of his beard and lose all thoughts about wanting to harm him and focus more on wanting to kiss him. Focus, Eva! “Do you have a working phone?”

  He sighs with his smirk still in place. “No.”

  That’s it! I storm over and surprise the shit out of him when I poke him in the chest. No surprise, it’s like poking a brick wall. I look up at him—this guy is seriously tall—and growl, “Listen, you hairy giant. I don’t have time for this. I have had a shitty month and a long day. I need to call Kim so I can get the keys to my grandpa’s house, crawl into a bed, and sleep the last thirty-two hours away. So, do you mind showing a little bit of compassion and telling me how to get a hold of Kim before I thunder punch you in the throat!”

  No one says anything after my outburst. The bartender stares at me with wide eyes, and I stare at him with narrowed ones. I jump when he throws his head back and bursts out laughing.

  Ignoring the fact that it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard, I rear back my fist, about to make good on my promise of a thunder punch, when he walks over to the door he came out of earlier. When he opens it, he bellows, “Mom!”

  Seconds later, a gorgeous woman who looks like she’s in her late fifties walks out. “You called?” she asks the bartender.

  “You got company,” he answers, then tilts his head toward me.

  Mom? That butt knew who I was and who I was here for the whole dang time. He starts to laugh when he sees realization dawn on my face.

  “Couldn’t you have just told me that?” I growl.

  “What would have been the fun in that?” He shrugs.

  Before I can respond, Kim walks over to me and engulfs me in a hug. “You must be Eva. I see you’ve already met one of my sons, Brantley. I’m so sorry about your grandpa. He was a good man and a good friend to all of us.” She pulls me back and gives me a sad smile.

  I squirm under her gaze. This is awkward. I don’t know how to act right now. Should I be sad for a man that I never met? A man who abandoned me? I shake the thoughts away and give her a small smile in return, but say nothing.

  “Well, let me just close the station and I’ll run you on down to your grandpa’s cabin, okay? You can just go throw your bags in the back of my truck out in the lot. It’s the white one,” she says, then disappears back behind the door.

  I grab my luggage and start walking out. Once I get past the wooden door of The Tavern, Brantley yells, “Welcome to Alaska, princess.”

  Oh yes, I will most definitely be punching him before this trip is over.

  Chapter Two

  YOU DON’T BELONG HERE, PRINCESS

  I awake the next morning to the sound of my cell ringing from the nightstand next to me. Without opening my eyes, I slap my hand over and blindly hit ignore. Sleep. I need more sleep.

  After Kim drove me twenty minutes into the middle of the woods—this is not an exagge
ration—where Robert’s Cabin is, she showed me around the property. It’s gorgeous.

  The cabin is hidden away behind miles of trees, so you can’t see it from the road, but once you drive down the dirt path, you eventually come to a clearing. There, in the middle of the land, is a quaint log cabin, like something you would see in a Christmas novel. The inside is even more beautiful, but very small. As soon as Kim and I walked through, we came straight into the living room.

  I was surprised when I looked around and saw no personal possessions. After asking Kim, she told me that after Robert passed away, they boxed up what little he had and stored it in a closet in the upstairs loft.

  According to her, he didn’t have a lot. I got the distinct impression she didn’t know that Robert had one million dollars sitting in the bank and had left it all to me. I wasn’t about to let her know.

  Straight through the living room is a tiny kitchen with wood floors and wood cupboards. What captures my attention first is the little breakfast nook that’s in front of a big bay window showing a beautiful view of the mountains. I can see myself sitting there drinking coffee and watching the sun rise.

  Along with the kitchen and living room, there’s a bathroom and a staircase leading to a loft bedroom above. Thankfully, there is still furniture: a queen bed, a table, and two couches. No TV, but that’s fine. I came up here for an adventure, to find myself.

  After showing me the cabin, Kim stayed long enough to show me where the keys to Robert’s truck was and to tell me to get the new tires in the shed put on his truck as soon as possible.

  I was walking her out to her truck when she pointed to a tree stump and an ax. “You have enough wood for the wood burner to last the rest of the night. There’s wood on the other side of that shed, but it’s not split. I’ll send Brantley over tomorrow to do it.”

  At the mention of the sexy, but mean bartender’s name, I freeze. The prospect of seeing him tomorrow makes my stomach flip with both excitement and dread. I swear the only thing that would make that man hotter is if he just didn’t talk.

  “No,” I blurt. At Kim’s surprised look, I rush to continue. “No need to disturb his day. I can do it. I’ve split wood before. I’m, like, a professional at it,” I lie. Honestly? I’m not 100 percent positive I know what splitting wood even entails.

  Kim laughs, gives me a peculiar look, and says, “In time, honey, you’ll see not everything is as it seems. This little town has a way of revealing truths and making people realize the most unexpected and maybe unwanted destiny is what they needed all along.”

  I don’t get a chance to ask what she means by that because she starts up her truck and drives away.

  It’s when I go inside that I realize I have no other plans. I thought coming here would make me feel something, make me feel like I was home, but I’m just standing in an almost empty cabin. Alone.

  I call Char to let her know that I arrived safe and sound and throw wood on the fire before washing this day away and promptly falling asleep.

  I grumble when my phone begins ringing again. I answer it without checking the ID. I would come to regret this. I knew that as soon as I answered and Elliot’s voice responded.

  “Sweetheart?” He sounds surprised that I answered. He should be.

  “What do you want, Elliot?” I sigh. I guess it’s about time we get this talk over with.

  “It wasn’t what you think, sweetheart,” he starts. Then I end it.

  “Don’t tell me it wasn’t what I think. I saw it with my own eyes. I saw it on my couch! In fact, it took a good two weeks for me to stop seeing it every time I closed my eyes. So, do yourself a favor and just stop with the excuses.”

  “Would you just listen for a second?” I remain silent and he continues. “Tara came over looking for you. I told her you weren’t there and I didn’t know when you would be back, but she insisted on waiting. She started telling me all these things, like how I would be tied down to one woman for the rest of my life, how I was making a mistake. She said she had feelings for me, and babe, before I knew it, her lips were on mine.

  “Hell honey, I don’t know what happened. All her ramblings made me panic. It was a fucking mistake. One that won’t ever happen again, I promise it.”

  “That’s a wonderful story, Elliot, but there’s just one problem. It wasn’t the first time you slept with her. Tara was kind enough to let me know this a week after I left you in an email! So, take your lousy excuse and shove it. I’m done, Elliot. The wedding is off. Don’t call me again.” I hit end.

  After a few calming breaths, I get out of bed and head to the bathroom for my morning routine.

  I don’t know why I’m letting this whole situation get to me. I know now that I never loved Elliot, and he clearly didn’t love me. He was always more of a friend. In spite of all of this, I still believe in my heart that he’s a good guy.

  After putting on a pair of jeans, a black scoop neck sweater, my winter coat, and gloves and a hat, I walk outside to begin the task of splitting wood. If I’m going to live in Alaska for the time being, I’m going to need to learn to do this stuff.

  I come to a dead stop when I see none other than Brantley, the sexy bartender, already chopping wood. I take just a second to enjoy the bulge of his muscles as he swings the ax before I stomp over to him to give him a piece of my mind.

  “What are you doing here?” I yell from behind him. He jumps and the ax falls right on the toe of his boot.

  “Motherfucker!” he yells and I cover my mouth.

  Oh crap, I feel so bad. “I am so sorry,” I say. I take a nervous step back when he shoots a scowl my way.

  “I bet you are,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

  All right, enough of this. I place my hand on my hips. “What are you doing here?” I ask again.

  “I’m chopping wood. What does it fucking look like?”

  “Don’t yell at me, and I don’t need you to chop my wood. I can do it myself!” I roar in his face.

  Brantley chooses this moment to give me a sarcastic smile. After looking my body up and down, he curls his upper lip, “Oh, I just bet you can, princess.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” I hiss.

  “Because that’s what you are, a spoiled little fucking rich girl. I clocked you from the moment you walked into my damn bar with your perfect hair, perfect nails, and your designer suitcases that probably cost more than my fucking truck.”

  After his outburst, my anger dissipates. In its place is hurt, but I don’t have anything to say back to him. It’s all true. I have all the clothes, the perfect nails, and the perfect life, but none of it is what I want.

  I didn’t need to say anything back to Brantley because he wasn’t finished. “I bet the only reason you’re here is to rebel against Mommy and Daddy. What, you didn’t get your way, so you thought you’d punish them by running away to a place that you haven’t ever bothered to visit before.

  “Robert is your only living relative and you just couldn’t make the fucking time to come see him. No, instead you send him a nasty fucking letter, then act like he doesn’t exist until he dies alone. I bet you couldn’t wait to get up here and start selling off his shit to the highest bidder.

  “Well, get on with it, then get the hell out of our town. You don’t belong here, princess.” After that crushing blow, he tosses the ax to the ground and stalks off to his truck.

  I could stop him and set him straight. I could tell him that everything he said was complete bull, That Robert has never tried to contact me. I never sent a letter to him, and I’m not here to sell off the land, but I don’t.

  I stand there while he fires up his truck and drives off, replaying every word he said over and over. I could cry. In fact, I should cry. I haven’t once since this whole ordeal started. Not when I found out I was adopted or that I had a grandpa who I only learned about after his death. I didn’t cry when I walked in and found Elliot and Tara together. I didn’t even cry when mom showed me her true color
s. I think it’s safe to say I deserve to cry, but the tears just won’t come.

  The only thing I can manage to do is ask myself, if I don’t belong with Elliot as his trophy wife, and I don’t belong in Alaska, where the hell do I belong?

  ***

  I dry off the last dish from lunch and place it back in the cupboard. Thankfully, Kim was nice enough to stock the fridge with some basic essentials for me. She has way better manners than her son. Nope, don’t go there, Eva.

  Once I collected my feelings, I walked back into the house determined to ignore Brantley’s existence. He obviously doesn’t like me, and the feeling is now very mutual, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him run me out of here.

  The one thing that keeps pestering me is what he said about me writing Robert. I never knew the man existed until a month ago. Where would Brantley get the idea that I wrote him?

  It’s this thought that makes me leave the kitchen and go up stairs to the closet, where Robert’s stuff is stored. I pull out the first box I see and open it. It’s full of pictures.

  The first one is of a man fishing on a boat with friends. Grandpa. I know it immediately. I can see the similarities between us. I move to the next picture. It’s of a woman, mid-twenties, standing in front of this cabin.

  My breath catches. She’s my mother. I know it instantly. We have the same eyes, same hair, and same lips. God, she could be my twin.

  This is my mom. I repeat that thought over and over in my head while I run my finger over the glass of the picture. I don’t know how long I stare at her. She’s beautiful. I have all the questions you would expect. Why did she give me up for adoption? What was she like? What would I have been like if she would have kept me?