by Susan Stoker
The rest of her shift was uneventful and Bryn managed to find three books on amputees on the library’s shelves. She checked them out at the end of her shift and quickly headed out to her car.
Out in the parking lot, not watching where she was going, instead looking through the pages of one of the books, eager to learn all she could about what Dane went through and what it might be like to be missing part of an arm, Bryn didn’t notice the car that slammed on its brakes right before backing into her. She also didn’t have any idea a man stood watching her intently as he stood against his truck. His hands were crossed over his chest and one foot was crossed over the other.
She didn’t notice when he pushed off his truck and headed her way. If she had, she might’ve been more prepared for what happened next.
“Ah, it’s the elusive grocery store chick.”
Bryn squeaked in surprise at the voice so near to her and barely managed to keep hold of the book she’d been reading. She looked up and her eyes widened at seeing Dane Munroe keeping pace with her as she walked to her car. For a moment she was speechless, but quickly recovered and said defensively, “I didn’t know you were here. I’m not following you.”
“I know.”
When he didn’t say anything else, Bryn stopped walking and just stared at him.
She jerked when he reached out and took hold of her biceps and guided her out of the middle of the parking lot, so a car could get past them. Today Dane was wearing a pair of blue jeans, the same boots he’d had on last night, and another long-sleeve shirt, this one a deep plum color. Flannel. Bryn could also see he was wearing a prosthetic. The three prongs of the hooks that served as a thumb and two fingers were unmoving at his side as they peeked out from the edge of the shirt.
“Seriously,” Bryn told him, moving docilely where he guided her out of the way. “I work here. Usually from nine to five-ish. I didn’t know you’d be here. I can’t quit this job though, ’cause it’s how I pay my rent and for food and stuff. I could probably get another job, but it might take a while, and if I had to go down to Post Falls or Coeur D’Alene, my car might not make it and I’d get stuck somewhere…which would be bad. So I—”
“I know you’re not following me,” Dane interrupted, “because I tracked you down this time.”
Bryn stood stock still, staring up at Dane in disbelief. Not sure at all what to say. Finally, she got out, “You tracked me down?”
“Yeah. Anything you want to tell me?”
Bryn looked around, hoping someone would rescue her from the extremely uncomfortable conversation. Realizing she and Dane were alone, she finally looked back at him and bit her lip before swallowing hard. “I’m sorry about the grocery store thing?” It came out more as a question than a comment.
“Actually, I should be apologizing to you. You took me by surprise, and I don’t do surprises well. I realize now that you were helping me, and I should’ve said thank you instead of making you feel like you had to quit.”
Bryn could only stare at Dane, her mouth hanging open.
He chuckled, and put a finger under her chin and lifted it, effectively closing her mouth and tilting her head up so she couldn’t look away from him at the same time. “Speechless, Smalls? I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it for myself.”
The use of the nickname he’d given her last night made the adrenaline race throughout her body. He remembered. How in the hell had he remembered after how much he’d obviously drunk? How much did he remember?
Bryn jerked away from him, still silent, and took a couple quick steps backward. Her head whipped around at the raucous sound of a car horn and the screeching of tires. Before she could react, Dane had grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his body, turning them both out of the way of the now stopped car.
“Jesus, Smalls, you gotta pay more attention to where you’re walking.”
“S-s-sorry,” Bryn stammered, shaking with the additional adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream and ignoring the irritated shouting from the driver who’d almost run her over. First Dane had remembered the name he’d given her last night, when she thought for sure he’d been way too drunk to recall anything about her appearance in the bar and in his home. Then she’d almost been run over, and now she stood in the circle of Dane’s arms. It was too much for her overloaded brain to comprehend.
“You okay?” Dane asked, not loosening the hold of his arms around her.
Nodding, Bryn said nothing, just curled her fingers against the hard chest they were resting on. She could feel his heartbeat under his shirt and see it beating strongly in his neck.
“That nod is akin to telling me you’re ‘fine,’ and I have it on good authority when a woman says she’s ‘fine,’ she’s totally not fine. Talk to me. You’re freaking me out a bit here, Bryn.”
“You know my name.”
Dane smiled. “Yeah, Smalls. I remember everything.”
At that, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. When he said nothing more, simply continued to stand there holding her close, Bryn opened her eyes and mouth.
“I wasn’t stalking you. I swear. I was at home and the storm came through. It made me think about you. One in six soldiers returning from war suffer from PTSD, and I didn’t know if storms were one of your triggers or not. I was only going to check to see if you were at the store. You weren’t, but I thought I might as well see if I could find your truck to make sure you were okay. I did. But it was late, and the biker couple coming out of the bar didn’t seem to be the kind of people you’d normally hang out with. I only peeked in the door of the bar, but you were the only one there and the bartender wanted you out. He was grumpy. I don’t think he makes much in tips ’cause he’d get more if he was friendly. It’s a catch-22 though. Did you know that a lot of teenagers don’t know what that is? I guess the book is way too old for them, which is a shame, it’s really good.”
Dane smiled again and pressed his hand into her hip.
Bryn looked up at him in confusion.
“You found me in the bar?” he prompted.
“You were drunk, and couldn’t drive, and the bartender assumed I was there to pick you up. So I took you home. Nothing happened,” she finished quickly.
“How’d you get back to the bar?”
“Uh…what?” Out of all she’d spewed, that was the last thing she thought Dane would ask about.
“The bar. If you drove Miss May to my house, how did you get back to the bar to get your car? Did you call a taxi?”
“No. There are only two in Rathdrum, and they stop picking people up around two.”
He waited a moment but she didn’t elaborate. With a raised eyebrow, he asked, “So?”
“So…what?”
“Jesus, Smalls. For such a smart chick, you sure can be scatterbrained. How did you get back to the bar?”
“Oh. I walked.”
“You walked.”
“Yeah.”
“What time?”
“What time what?”
Dane stared up at the sky for a moment, as if praying for patience, and sighed. Then he looked back down at her and enunciated carefully, “What time did you leave my house, and what time did you get back to the bar?”
Bryn shrugged. “I didn’t measure it. But I got home around five-thirty. I typically walk around a twenty-minute mile but it was dark, and I couldn’t really see where my feet where, so I was probably averaging more like twenty-five minutes. It was around three-point-two miles to your house from the bar. So I probably got back to my car around five-twenty or so. For once, the stupid hunk of junk started with no issues, and I got home around six minutes later.”
Dane ran his hand over his face, and Bryn could see his jaw was clenched tight. She had no idea why he was so agitated. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Please don’t ever do that again.” His words were low and tortured.
“What? Why? How else was I going to get back to my car?”
“Don�
�t put yourself in danger like that again. Anything could’ve happened to you. You could’ve been hit by a car. Kidnapped. Raped. Eaten by a wild animal. Walking around this part of the world, in the dark, by yourself, when no one knows where you are…it’s not smart.”
Bryn was taken aback for a moment. Not smart? Her entire life she’d been told over and over how intelligent she was. It was perhaps the only time she’d ever heard anyone say she wasn’t. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
“Not to mention, if something had happened to you because you helped me…it would’ve been my fault.”
“That’s not logical,” Bryn protested. “You were passed out back at your house. How could it have been your fault?”
“Because you were walking back to your car, at four in the morning, because of me.”
“What should I have done? I needed to get back to my car. I had to work today.” Her voice was soft and confused.
“Stayed at my place,” Dane returned immediately.
“But—”
“I was passed out; I wasn’t going to hurt you. I have two other bedrooms and a huge couch you could’ve crashed on. In the morning, I would’ve taken you back to the bar and your car. I would’ve made sure you got to work on time.”
Bryn mulled his words over. She hadn’t even thought about staying in his house. It wasn’t polite to invite yourself to stay somewhere you weren’t invited. The dangers of walking around the backwoods of Idaho hadn’t even occurred to her…especially being assaulted; it wasn’t as if she had ever really gained the notice of men before. Not to mention the last time he’d talked to her, when he hadn’t been drunk, he didn’t exactly like her.
But Bryn understood Dane’s point. Appreciating that he’d given her time to turn his words over in her head, she finally said, “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of the logistics of getting back to my car when I drove you home. All I wanted to do was make sure you got there all right. I should’ve waited for you to wake up, or for the cabs to start operating. Even if you were pissed I was there.”
“Want to get dinner?”
Bryn simply stared up at Dane in stupefaction at the abrupt change in topic.
“You know, the meal that people eat after work, in the evenings? Should I call it supper instead?” He was kidding, but he should’ve known better than to ask her something like that when she was full of random facts he’d never even thought about before.
“Actually, dinner can be the midday meal, like lunch, and supper has connotations of being in the evening. But ultimately dinner is the main meal of the day, whether it happens in the middle or at the end of it.”
Dane’s lips curled up into an amused smile. “So? Will you eat an evening meal with me? See, the way I figure it, we got off on the wrong foot. I assumed things about you, and said some nasty and hurtful things that I regret. And now I’m afraid you think I’m an alcoholic veteran who can’t function in society.”
“I don’t think that,” Bryn protested immediately.
“So, dinner?”
Instead of answering, Bryn spit out what she was thinking. She knew she should shut up, but, especially when she was nervous, she had a habit of spewing random facts. “Getting off on the wrong foot was used by Shakespeare in fifteen ninety-five in King John. He talked about a ‘better foot.’ There’s debate about where the saying actually came from, some suggesting that it was ancient Greece, where it was thought to be unlucky to put your left shoe on first. But others think it came about because most people are right-handed. And if there’s a right hand, or foot, there has to be a wrong one. And I don’t mean that in a bad way…you know…since you’re left-handed, or you were left-handed. It’s just what people think…”
Her voice trailed off and Bryn concentrated on the top button of Dane’s shirt. She was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot.
“Hmmm, I didn’t know that. Interesting.”
Bryn inhaled quickly. He hadn’t made fun of her or mocked her strange rambling. She risked looking up at him.
As if he’d been waiting for her to meet his eyes, he said in a low voice, “There’s not a lot of choice here in Rathdrum, but if you’re up for it, Dairy Queen has great burgers. They’re really greasy, but we can wash it down with some ice cream when we’re done. And bonus…beef has lots of protein, and you did tell me I should cut down on how many carbs I eat late in the day and consume more protein.” His lips quirked up in a grin.
Bryn nodded. She had said that. “I’d like that.”
“Great.” Dane finally took his arms from around her waist and bent to pick up the books she’d dropped when she’d almost been run over. Luckily, they were unharmed and in one piece. “Interesting reading choices.”
Bryn blushed again but refused to feel bad. “I don’t know anything about amputated limbs or prosthetics.”
“You did seem really interested in my stump last night.”
“You remember that?”
“It took me a while, but yeah, Smalls, I remember everything.”
Bryn wasn’t sure what to say to that. She was extremely embarrassed that she’d lifted her shirt and showed him her bra. So she kept her mouth shut.
“Come on, I’ll drive.”
Dane shifted her until she was on his left side, his prosthetic resting lightly on her hip. She fit against him perfectly, her head only reaching his shoulder. She felt surrounded by his warmth…and safe. Bryn clutched the borrowed books to her chest and shuffled along beside Dane toward his truck.
“Don’t worry, this time I’ll drive you back here to get your car after we’re finished eating. I think I’ve made it pretty clear I don’t like you walking around after dark.”
“Before I moved here, I checked out the crime statistics,” Bryn informed Dane. “The information was a couple of years old, but there were only six arrests for aggravated assault, only forty-six arrests for drug violations, forty-seven DUIs, two robberies, and only one rape arrest. Overall, Rathdrum is very safe, and there were only three hundred and forty-two arrests the entire twelve months of that year.”
Dane stopped at the passenger side of his truck and turned her so her back was to the door. He took her shoulders in his hands and looked down at her. “Be that as it may, it’s not safe or smart to press your luck. I don’t want you to be the three hundred and forty-third incident in this town for the year. It might be small, but assholes and crazies can live anywhere. Remind me to show you the sex-offender website sometime. The last time I checked, there were twenty-two registered living in this zip code.”
“There’s a website?”
“Yeah, Smalls. The law says that anyone convicted of a sex crime has to report their address to the authorities. They keep tabs on them and make sure they aren’t living too close to schools. Information about sexual predators is online and available to the public.”
“Cool,” Bryn breathed. “I didn’t know.”
Dane smiled at her. “Yeah, I got that.”
When he didn’t say anything further, Bryn shifted. Then finally asked, “Did you change your mind about dinner?”
“No,” he said immediately. “I’m wondering how in the hell you were able to follow me around that damn store for so long without me noticing you.”
“Oh, I’m good at being invisible.”
Dane obviously didn’t like her words, but didn’t confront her about them. He merely said cryptically, “You’re not invisible now.”
“Obviously.”
“Come on. We’ve got burgers and ice cream waiting for us.” He leaned over and opened the door of Miss May with his good hand and waited as she climbed up into the truck.
Bryn settled herself on the soft leather seat and watched as he shut her door and stalked around the front to the driver’s side. She shut her eyes for a moment and sent a silent prayer upwards that she didn’t say anything that would make the amazing man next to her decide once and for all that she really was a freak.
Chapter Six
The r
estaurant was fairly busy for a weekday night, and after Dane asked what Bryn wanted to eat, he sent her to find a table.
Eyeing Dane as she went into the dining room, she realized that he seemed ill at ease. Of course he was. It was dinnertime and Dairy Queen was quite crowded. Making a split-second decision, Bryn walked back to where Dane was standing in line and placed herself at his left side. So close her arm brushed his.
“You all right?” Dane asked in concern, looking down at her.
“Yeah.” She didn’t elaborate.
“Can’t find a place to sit?”
“I’d rather go on a picnic.”
“A picnic?”
“Uh huh.” Bryn held her breath, hoping he would go for it.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened in the grocery store, would it?”
Bryn looked up at Dane. She noticed once again how tall he really was. He was wearing his ever-present leather jacket. When he moved, she could smell the slight scent of the leather waft in her direction. She thought about how to answer him, and decided to simply tell the truth.
“It’s crowded. You don’t like crowds. There are some booths so you could see the restaurant, but your back would be to a window, which I don’t think would make you comfortable. There’s a small roadside picnic area about a mile south of the city. We could go there and you wouldn’t have to worry about other people, and maybe could enjoy your meal.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Long enough that Bryn thought she’d gone too far. She’d dropped her eyes and pressed her lips together in mortification, figuring he’d finally realized she was as weird as he’d claimed and would leave her standing alone in the restaurant, when she felt pressure under her chin. She obediently raised her head, loving the warmth of his finger on her skin, and met his eyes as bravely as she could.