by Gemma Weir
Rockhead Point isn’t as big as some of the other ski resorts, but what it lacks in black runs, it more than makes up for in small town charm.
When the bell over the door chimes, I look up expecting to find Beau Barnett here for his evening coffee and danish, but instead I find an unfamiliar face. The man who just entered the shop is almost as tall as Beau, but instead of dark and brooding, he’s blond, his build lean beneath an expensive looking suit, a crisp white dress shirt and a crimson red tie.
His eyes find me, and instead of dismissing me and immediately moving to the coffee menu behind me, they linger, looking me over for a moment before a wide smile spreads across his full lips. “Hello, love,” he says, striding up to the counter, reaching up to tousle the hair that’s fallen across his forehead.
“Welcome to Wake Up and Go Go, what can I get you?” I ask with a smile.
“A latte and a companion for dinner,” he says, lifting his eyebrows in question as he rests his elbows on the counter and leans in to me, his smile so wide and compelling I feel a little dazed.
“The latte I can help you with, the dinner companion, well I’m sure Fred would be happy to join you,” I laugh, gesturing to where Fred is nursing a cup of coffee, all of his attention focused on the crossword he’s been working on for the last hour.
A burst of laughter comes from the guy, throwing his head back with mirth just as the bell above the door rings again and an angry looking Beau strides in, his expression black and foreboding.
“I’m Dan,” the man says, holding his hand out to me across the counter.
“Bonnie,” I tell him, reaching out and placing my hand in his.
“Well, Bonnie, as much as I’m sure Fred would be riveting company, I think you’re probably more my speed. So, will you do me the pleasure of joining me for dinner?”
Before I have chance to answer, a gruff and very loud throat being cleared disturbs us.
“I should probably get back to work,” I tell Dan. “A latte, anything else?” I ask, turning to start his coffee.
“Your number?” he asks playfully.
Ignoring him I make his coffee, sliding it across the counter as soon as it’s done. “That’s three dollars, please,” I tell him.
Pushing a ten toward me, he smiles. “Keep the change,” he says with a flirty wink as he picks up his coffee and moves down the counter to where a handful of stools line the shallow shelf that runs along the wall of the coffee shop.
“Hi Beau, the usual?” I ask, when Dan has gone and Beau steps up to the counter.
“Please,” he says gruffly, his attention diverted between me and Dan. “Who’s the guy?” he asks, shocking the hell out of me and almost making me drop the cup in my hands.
“What?” I ask, disbelieving that Beau Barnett is actually engaging me in a conversation that involves more than two words that aren’t coffee and please. “Who?”
“The guy,” he growls.
“I don’t know, his name is Dan,” I ramble, my hands shaking a little as I fill his cup with black coffee and place the bear claw I saved for him onto a plate, pushing them both across the counter toward him.
“You need me to get rid of him?” Beau asks, a hint of violence lacing his tone.
“What? Of course not, he’s a customer,” I say, shocked by his very strange behavior.
His expression darkens and he glares at me, then slaps a bill down on the counter, before picking up his drink and food and storming over to his table. Incredulous I stare at after him, what the hell has gotten into him? I wonder.
“So, dinner?” Dan asks, sliding his coffee along the shelf until it’s resting on the very edge of the counter.
“It’s a meal, usually eaten in the evening,” I tease, with a smile.
“It is,” he agrees. “And tonight you’ll be eating it with…” he trails off, waiting for me to fill in the blanks.
“My dad and maybe my brother,” I say nonchalantly.
“You live at home?” he questions.
Not answering, I turn the question back to him. “You’re from out of town?” I ask.
“I’m actually thinking about moving here, I’m living in Seattle at the minute, but my company is looking into the Montana market and considering opening a branch here.
“In Rockhead Point?” I ask.
“I own a sporting goods company, so expanding into small towns where there’s a busy all year-round tourist trade is good business,” he tells me.
I nod, like I’m in complete agreement, when really I’m internally rolling my eyes. A big chain sporting goods store opened up a branch in Rockhead Point a few years back. It closed within twelve months.
What bigwig corporations never seem to understand is that people visiting small towns, do so for the small-town charm, not to visit the same chain stores they can shop in back home. They love that McCarthy’s sporting goods has everything they could ever need as well as local knowledge, a friendly atmosphere, and a thousand recommendations for paths, trails, and ski routes.
“So, dinner?” he asks again.
“I like it,” I say with a smile. “It’s not as good as breakfast, but it’s better than lunch.”
Somehow his charming smile gets even wider. “I like it too. If you wanted, we could do both, dinner, then breakfast,” he suggests with a flirtatious wink.
Giggling, I shake my head. “I don’t think so, but thank you.”
Clasping his hands over his heart dramatically, he gasps. “You wound me, but I won’t give up, I’m staying in town for the next few days, maybe you could give me the guided tour instead.”
“I’m working till the shop closes,” I say with a smile, enjoying his playful flirting. I actually don’t remember the last time anyone flirted with me. The majority of the guys in town my age are away at college or already married. Plus, it’s difficult to find a connection when you’re constantly comparing them to the perfect but unreachable man.
My eyes drift over to Beau’s table, I’m expecting to find him ignoring me like he usually does, but instead his piercing hazel eyes are looking back at me, his lips tipped down into a scowl.
“What time does the shop shut? I can wait,” Dan says, pulling my attention back to him.
“We actually close in half an hour, but like I said I have dinner plans with my family,” I tell him.
“See you tomorrow,” Fred calls as he shuffles toward the door.
“Bye Fred,” I call back, stepping around the counter to clear Fred’s table. I take his dirty cup into the back, then return to the counter where Dan is still sitting.
“So, Bonnie, are you a townie?” he asks.
“Rockhead Point born and raised.”
“This must have been a great place to grow up, a safe community, knowing all your neighbors?” he asks, his chin resting on his fist, all of his attention devoted to me.
Sighing, I glance through the window at the town beyond. “It actually was. I love it here, I can’t imagine ever wanting to live anywhere else,” I tell him.
“I know I’m being incredibly forward and probably coming off as a total creep, but are you single, Bonnie?”
A blush fills my cheek with how blatant he’s being, but I like it. I know literally nothing about him other than his name, but it’s so nice to have someone be interested in me. I’m sick of stupidly pining over a guy who is so far out of my reach it’s ridiculous. If Beau had ever done anything to encourage my childish crush, then perhaps I wouldn’t feel so stupid still harboring feelings for him so many years later. But the truth is, I doubt he’d care if I stripped naked and gave him a lap dance.
“Is this how you pursue a girl in the big city?” I tease.
“No,” he laughs. “I actually don’t remember the last time I saw a girl worth pursuing. But you didn’t answer my question. Are you single?”
“What would you do if I told you I was taken?” I ask.
“If you had a boyfriend or a husband you were serious about, you’d have shot
me down the moment I asked you out,” he says, reaching out and running his finger over the back of my hand.
“It’s eight thirty,” Beau announces loudly, startling me and making me snatch my hand away from where Dan was touching me.
“What?” I ask, my voice a little breathless.
“It’s eight thirty, shop’s closed,” Beau says again, striding over to the counter and placing his empty mug and plate down, muscling Dan out of the way as he does.
“I should go,” Dan says, glaring at Beau for a second before he looks at me, his lips turning up into a playful smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Bonnie, are you working tomorrow?”
I nod, and he knocks the top of the counter with his knuckles. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he looks at Beau again, smirks, and leaves, the bell over the door tinkling as he goes.
I’m not even slightly ashamed to say I watch him leave, his perfectly tailored suit, clinging to his tight ass in all the very best ways. It takes me a minute to realize Beau is still at the counter, his expression more of a glower now, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed.
Clearing my throat, I force a polite smile to my lips. Grabbing his plate and mug I slide them toward me. “Was there anything else I can get you?” I ask, when he just stands there glaring at me.
“I’ll wait while you tidy up,” he snarls.
“There’s no need, I can lock the door while I clean up,” I tell him, hating how uncomfortable him speaking to me makes me.
This guy has been the object of every dirty fantasy I’ve ever had, his is the face I see every time I touch myself and make myself come. He is literally my fantasy man in flesh, but now he’s actually looking at me, I have nothing to say that doesn’t include me offering to serve him food or drink.
“I’ll wait,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
The tone of his words makes me feel chastised, like I’ve somehow done something wrong, but I have no idea what it could be. Beau and I aren’t friends, we don’t even have friends in common, other than perhaps my brother, but I don’t even know if Caleb knew Beau in high school.
I want to argue with him, but instead I find myself nodding. “Okay,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, then I scurry into the back to get on with my clean up duties.
When I’ve loaded the dishwasher and stacked the clean trays, I take the trash out to the dumpster, then head back into the main shop to turn off the coffee machine and get set-up for the morning. I’m half expecting Beau to be gone, but instead, he’s waiting at the counter, his arms crossed across his huge chest, his expression still dark and brooding.
“I just need to clean the tables, there’s really no need for you to wait,” I babble.
“I already cleaned the tables, and I told you I’ll wait,” he says, his voice full of warning not to push him on this.
An unexpected heat bubbles to life in my core, usually I don’t feel it unless I’m in bed at night, my hands inside my pajama bottoms, fantasizing about him kissing and touching me. His angry voice and black expression shouldn’t be turning me on, but it is. Even though he’s being a bossy dick, this is the most he’s ever spoken to me.
More heat rushes to my cheeks and I quickly turn away, switching off the machine and refilling the grinds ready for the morning as fast as I can. I don’t understand why I’m reacting this way to him. I’ve wanted him to notice me for so long, and now he’s here and I’m acting like a teenager with a crush, which I suppose I basically am, except I’m twenty-one and not a teenager anymore.
Rushing to the back I grab my purse and jacket, and then stride out to the front of the store, trying to look unaffected and calm, even though I’m neither of those things. “Thanks for waiting, I’m all done now,” I say on a rush, darting to the door and holding it open.
Without a word he follows me, pausing just outside the door while I turn off the lights and lock up.
“You shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he says, his voice a low rasp.
“What strangers?” I ask perplexed.
“That douche in the suit.”
“He’s a customer, I have to talk to the customers,” I say, unbelievably confused.
“He was flirting with you,” he says bluntly.
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“So, you need to stay away from guys like that,” he growls angrily.
“Why? And what kind of guy is he? He wasn’t asking me to marry him, he was flirting a little and asking me to dinner,” I say.
“The kind of guy who’s not for you,” he warns.
His words and the tone of his voice instantly gets my hackles rising. I might be in a seriously unrequited mythical relationship with this guy, but that doesn’t give him the right to tell me what to do. I mean we’re not friends, we’re barely acquaintances. I’m just the girl who gets his coffee. “Excuse me,” I snap, arching my eyebrows and daring him to explain what the hell he thinks he’s doing.
“What would your daddy and Caleb say if they saw you flirting with a guy like that?” he snarls, taking a step toward me.
“Are you serious?” I cry. Did Caleb put him up to this? Is that why he never utters a word to me, but always waits while I lock up and get into my car? Did my brother ask him to spy on me?
“Am I serious about you staying away from douchebags like that guy who was asking you to go back to his hotel and ride his dick? Hell fucking yes I’m serious,” Beau hisses angrily.
“Look, I have no idea why Caleb asked you to spy on me or whatever. But I already have one pain in the ass brother who insists on treating me like a child, I don’t need another one. I’m an adult, with a job. I can vote, get married, have babies, move to another country should the mood take me. That also means I can flirt, date, and screw anyone I want, so you can stop keeping an eye on me and tell my asshole brother to mind his own business,” I shout, before stomping to my car, opening the door, and driving away without even glancing in Beau’s direction.
2
Beau
“Fuck,” I hiss beneath my breath, as I watch her tail lights disappear into the distance. Rushing to my truck I climb in and turn on the engine. My tires screeching in protest as I pull into the street, accelerating to catch up with her.
I don’t know if she realizes I follow her home whenever she drives home in the dark. My house is on the property right next door to her family’s ranch, and even though she’s been driving that route for years; the roads can still be treacherous once the sun goes down.
Keeping an eye on Bonnie Williams has become a bit of an obsession. It started one day about a year ago. I drove past the coffee shop she works in real early one morning and she was there alone, opening up. Something stopped me from just driving away, and before I even knew what I was doing I was in the shop ordering a coffee and watching her.
That wasn’t so bad, there’s nothing wrong with being neighborly and keeping an eye on the too beautiful girl who was alone and vulnerable.
Then the next day I saw her closing up the shop, not paying any attention to what was happening around her, not checking that she was alone, that no one was watching her.
The next evening, I waited till closing time to drive past the shop, just to check on her, and there she was alone again, so sweet and young and beautiful. I felt compelled to stop in and wait till she closed up to make sure she was okay, protected.
My mama was friends with her mama, and I told myself I was just doing the right thing, taking care of her, making sure she was safe. But that was nearly a year ago, and yet here I am, leaving my house early every morning and following her down the mountain, then waiting while she gets set up, and then coming back every night half an hour before closing to see her safely back to her home.
She’s always been beautiful, but the last few years she’s matured into one of the most stunning women I’ve ever seen. She’s tiny, barely more than five foot, she’s so petite I reckon I could span her waist with just my hands. Her hair is a rich brown, hangi
ng to her shoulders, though she rarely wears it down at the shop. Her features are refined, like a perfect china doll, except her lips that are sinfully full. But she’s half my age, and Caleb Williams’ baby sister. I’m not obsessed with her, I’m just being nice and looking out for her, because that’s what folks do in Rockhead Point, we take care of our neighbors.
Keeping her tail lights far enough ahead of me that she doesn’t realize I’m following; I think about everything she just yelled at me. She thinks Caleb asked me to keep an eye on her. I fucking hate Caleb, always have ever since high school, he always acted so fucking superior because his daddy owned a ranch. His parents are good people, but he always came across like an uptight asshole and I doubt much has changed over the years.
She thinks I’m trying to act like her big brother. A laugh falls from my lips, echoing around the silence of my truck. She couldn’t be any further from the truth.
I’m forty-three years old, but I’ve never had any real interest in settling down and starting a family. I know that there’s plenty of women who’d be interesting in fulfilling the role of my wife, should I go looking, but I’ve just never been interested. When my daddy died, I became the man of the house. It became my responsibility to look after my mama and my brothers, so that’s what I did.
I went away to college at my mama’s insistence, but I worked my ass off and graduated early, then I came back home and did what was expected of me. I started a business in town and looked after my family, just like my daddy would have wanted me to do. I made sure all my brothers got degrees too, and then the seven of us took care of our mama until she passed.
Rockhead Point may not seem much to some, but this is my home. Since I started keeping an eye on little Bonnie Williams over a year ago, I’ve found myself losing interest in the other women in town. I still go to the bar with my brothers, and occasionally I find a willing companion to share a bed with for a night or two. But for women closer to my age there’s a lot of biological clocks a ticking and I have zero interest in becoming a father. I’m good in bed, and those I do indulge in for a while, never go unsatisfied, but most women want to catch me and I don’t have any interest in being caught.