by Komal Kant
Whether it was through some medical miracle where my tiny fists had rearranged a backwards part of his brain, or whether Edgars quickly realized that Harris was as normal as we were, but that was the last time anything like that came out of his mouth.
Still, you couldn’t change the fact that Edgars was literally a wild streak. When we were in high school, he was the one who’d sneak us booze out of his parents’ liquor cabinet and be ballsy enough to “borrow” their car after they’d gone to bed.
Which was ironic, considering he was now a somewhat respectable police officer. The only wild thing in his life was his girlfriend, Emme, who was a firecracker of a woman. Somehow, Harris always ended up having to mediate them, which was what was causing the delay right now. Poor guy needed to get paid for his time.
As I waited for them to arrive, my mind had been on other times. On fights and flashes and a crescendo of people. Always too many people, closing in on me…
But all of that flew from my mind the second she walked in, casting her uncertain gaze around the bar, taking everything in with observant eyes, as though snapping mental pictures of her surroundings.
Something stirred inside of me. A sense of familiarity that I couldn’t place just yet. Even though every part of me screamed at me to stay away from her, every part of me also wanted to do things to her that would probably have her screaming in a different way.
Pushing aside the feeling, I picked up my beer and took a swig, drawing into the shadowy corner a little more so she wouldn’t see me right away.
Cole knew my favorite spot though and found me almost instantly. That cocky look grew into a cocky smile as he caught my eye.
My brother was a tall, imposing figure beside her, all smiles and chatter, just like the good country boy he was. He was a little shorter and a little less broad than I was, but women flocked to him a hell of a lot more than they did me. Cole was charming; I was an asshole. Cole knew the right things to say; I told people to fuck off. Call it a gift.
We had an unusual relationship, Cole and me. Even though at twenty-five, he was only four years younger than me, he still had a lot of growing up to do. I thought he was lazy and spoiled, because he’d opted out of helping with the family business. He thought I was a selfish asshole because I’d followed my dreams.
Leaning over to say something to Goochee, his hand lingering on her back long enough for me to grit my teeth, Cole ambled over to me with a swagger in his step, an easy greeting for everyone in the bar along the way.
I didn’t envy his socialness. I preferred to stick to myself on most days. There was nothing wrong with a man kicking back with a cold one, watching the rippling lake at night.
My attention turned back to Goochee as she set eyes on my younger sister, Delilah, who was bartending tonight. Everyone else in the bar was staring at Goochee, trying to place her. This was a small town and we all knew each other well.
From the way they were leering, Matt Ryde, Walsh Baker, and Hunter Miles, a trio of dickheads I liked to avoid, seemed to be enjoying what they were seeing. Goochee was leaning over the bar, giving off a great view of her tight ass. A view even I wasn’t immune to.
Lust pushed through me, my urges overtaking my better judgement. It had been a long time since I’d had been with a woman, and even though Goochee was a pain, she was undeniably sexy.
Cole reached me just then, sliding smoothly across from me into the booth and freeing me from my thoughts. “Well, hey, bro. I thought that was you lurking in the corner as usual.”
I grunted in response, taking another swig of my beer and trying not to make a face.
Beer was supposed to be a man’s drink, but I hated the taste of that basic, watered down crap. Good tequila, top shelf whiskey, that’s what I liked, but the good stuff knew me too well, knew how to take a hold of me and throw me screaming headfirst into the dark place I didn’t want to go down anymore.
So, I stayed away from liquor and stuck with shitty beer.
Not deterred by my mood, Cole continued, “I know you’re not in the habit of meeting people, but I figured you’d make an exception for an old friend.”
My ears perked up at that. “What do you mean by old friend?” As far as I knew, Goochee was new in town. She had city girl written all over her and Cole didn’t have any city friends.
“Do you remember Blair Fonseka from back when we were kids?” he asked, seeming pleased that I had no clue what he was talking about.
“What?”
It was the last thing I’d expected to hear.
Blair Fonseka. The little spitfire who used to run barefoot across the fields with my brother. She was Goochee?
My eyes shot to her again, and this time, I saw her in a completely different light. A deep, buried part of me recognized her. Hotheaded, outspoken and fierce—she’d always had a mouth on her and something to say about everything. It looked like nothing had changed.
Blair Fonseka.
Back in Pine Bluffs after, who knew how many, years.
What were the fucking odds?
And as though my thoughts had whispered in her ear, she turned her pretty dark head just then and locked flaming hazel eyes with me.
Shit.
The bartender was making my brother drool.
Seriously.
Drew’s eyes were the size of saucers as he gaped at her like he’d never seen a twenty-something-year-old woman before. Even I had to admit, in the crowded bar, she stood out. There was another guy and two other girls bartending, but it was her, all sun-kissed skin and wavy chocolate brown hair and dancing blue eyes that had my brother rapt.
“You guys don’t look familiar,” she remarked, tilting her head to the side as she took us in. “Are you passing through?”
Before I could say anything, my brother jumped in, smoothing his long hair back in an effort to appear less shabby. Considering he was still wearing his holey shirt and jeans, he wasn’t very successful in that endeavor.
“We’re here for our grandmother’s funeral, actually. Lois Woods,” he said, flashing her a mega-watt smile that somehow managed to be the perfect balance between somber and flirty. “I’m Drew Fonseka, and this is my sister, Blair. And you are?”
“Oh, that’s why you came in with my brother,” she said, her eyes growing sad. “I know he’s been helping clear out Mrs. Woods’ house. I’m Delilah Welsecky, by the way.”
“You’re Cole’s sister?” I scrutinized her sharp features and perfectly straight nose, but couldn’t see the resemblance.
“Unfortunately,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m younger than him by two years, but you couldn’t tell with how immature he is.”
Stifling a laugh, I glanced over at Drew, whose face was alight with veneration. “Trust me, I know all about immature brothers.”
Drew snapped out of his reverie long enough to throw me a scalding look which only made my smile grow.
“Anyway, I really am sorry about your grandma,” Delilah said, her eyes growing misty. “She was one of my favorite people. Always knew how to make me smile. She had the best stories about her hey day, like the time she-”
I zoned out. It was strange hearing someone else talk about my own grandmother like that when I was still mustering up feelings about how to handle being at her funeral tomorrow. A strange feeling hung in the air whenever she came up in our house. Bottom line, all of this was making me extremely uncomfortable.
With a sudden urge to down something strong, I brandished a ten-dollar bill and slid it across the gleaming bar towards her. “I’ll take a Grey Goose with cranberry juice, please. Nothing alcoholic for my baby brother though. He’s only twenty.”
Drew threw me a look of spears, the balls of his cheeks flushing as he smiled meekly at Delilah. “Age is but a number defined by fools.” Great. More mystic crap. “Besides, I’ll be twenty-one next month.”
“Well, this fool doesn’t want to lose her liquor license.” Delilah gave him a hard look, but I could see she was
wrestling with a smile. “Until then, I’ll make sure you stick with soda. On the rocks.”
“You own this bar?” I asked, glancing around The Fixed Bell, impressed.
The bar Cole had brought us to was modern and, well, clean. I’d been expecting a crappy, derelict establishment with sticky floors and peeling walls, but I was pleasantly surprised to find I was wrong.
The place looked newly remodeled. The floors were a shiny white vinyl, impeccably clean even on a busy Friday like tonight. The walls were also white, but were saved from being average by golden sconce lights.
“I sure do,” she said with a grin. “I bought it last year from Melanie and John Hodges when they retired.”
With that, she left to make our drinks and Drew shot me a look of pure brotherly hatred. “Did you really have to make me look so uncool, Bee?”
“It wasn’t hard to do,” I shot back, relishing the feeling of exacting my revenge after putting up with him on our painful drive up here.
“You’re going to let me have a bit of your Grey Goose, right?” Drew asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
“You can have a bit of my foot up your ass if you so much as think about touching my Goose,” I retorted.
“I don’t think anyone’s touched your goose in decades, Bee,” was his response.
True, I had been chaste for the last three years of my life, but I had a very good reason as to why that was and Drew didn’t need to remind me.
“Very funny.”
My brother was saved a knee to the groin as Delilah returned bearing our drinks. Drew took his soda out of her hand, his fingertips grazing her slender wrist.
What a loser.
“Do you want me to smack my brother for you? I’d be very happy to inflict some pain on him,” I offered, as she handed over my drink.
“I’ve had worse,” she said with a wink, moving along to an older dude in a trucker hat who was flagging her down.
Smiling smugly at Drew, I turned around to survey the rest of The Fixed Bell, searching for Cole and the friend he’d gone over to see.
The bar was large and bustling, but not enough for him to disappear in it. He was sitting at a booth in the dim back corner, his blond head just visible, partially obscuring his friend.
Craning my neck, I first caught sight of a broad shoulder, followed by a thick arm clad in red flannel. That should’ve been a dead giveaway, but it wasn’t until his eyes locked with mine that I realized who it was.
Oh, no. Oh hell no!
There he was, the bearded jerk in all his Bearded Jerk glory, taking a sip of his stupid drink when he should be sitting in a jail cell paying for his blousely crimes. There was no way I was letting him get away this time.
Swiping my vodka and cranberry from the bar top, I pushed past the throng of people and stormed over to their booth, rage hitting me in flashes of red.
“You!” I snapped, pointing at him so furiously with my drink that it sloshed everywhere.
Some of it tipped onto his hand, and he stared at the red liquid before raising his disinterested cobalt eyes onto me.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Goochee,” he said lazily, his eyes flicking over me.
The name bristled me. I wasn’t going to be his running joke.
With a pounding head, I glared at him and shoved my frazzled hair out of my face. “Don’t call me that, you goddamn blouse stealer!”
That was the best insult I could come up with on the spot. It was juvenile, but so was he. It seemed fitting.
“Now, what would I do with a blouse?” He interlocked his thick fingers on top of the table and leaned back until he was resting against the black, padded booth.
Somehow, that single motion made him appear even broader than he already was. And despite myself, I couldn’t help admiring his body. Gosh, his arms were huge. No! I couldn’t get sucked into his sexy physique. Focus, for crap’s sake!
“I don’t want to know what creepy things you do with women’s clothing!” I cried, drawing the attention of the patrons closest to us.
Drew had trailed after me and was now standing in between us, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. Cole, on the other hand, looked thoroughly annoyed.
“You two already met?” Irritation edged his voice.
“You could call it that.” There was a hint of a smile in Bearded Jerk’s voice that made me want to throttle the life out of him. “You could also call it Goochee getting busy taking her clothes off.”
What the fuck! This guy had some nerve-
“This is the quickie guy?” Drew jumped in, staring at Bearded Jerk with interest.
“Quickie?” Cole demanded, his eyes flashing with darkness. “You two had a quickie?”
“Yes, it was quick,” Bearded Jerk said in his annoying drawl, never taking his eyes off me, never pausing in his study of me, making me all warm and flushy-
“Ughhh! That’s it!” I slammed my Grey Goose and cranberry juice down on the table so hard it splattered all over us. “No, we did not have a quickie! This ass wipe spilled coffee on me and then took off with my blouse!”
“Whoa, hold on a sec.” Bearded Jerk fixed me with a level stare, rising to his feet. I took a step back, transfixed. His shoulders and arms only seemed to expand in size, dwarfing me. He must’ve been 6 feet tall at least. “You spilled the coffee on yourself and all over me, Goochee.”
“That is not what happened!” I cried, pushing a finger into his chest. I was met with a firm pec. Ouch. “And my name is Blair!”
As he brought his head down to mine, he seemed to suck all the air out of my atmosphere. Either that or I forgot how to breathe. It had been a long time since a man had been this close to me, capable of drawing out my every emotion.
“I know exactly who you are, Blair Fonseka.”
He didn’t say my name—he growled it. The way it sounded from his lips blew me off my feet and onto my back, with only a hope he would pin me down and ravage-
Oh, my gosh. What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to stop! This man was an ass. Yes, a sexy ass, but still an ass.
Still rattled, I did my best to pull it together. “Listen, you-”
“No, you listen, Blair.” Crap. I didn’t even know his name. I hated that he had this advantage over me. I had to find some way to hold something over his head. “It was a stupid shirt. Get over it.”
Stupid shirt? How dare he! I’d had enough of this douchebag! Well, two could play at that game.
Seizing my drink from the table, I turned around, ready to throw it in this asshole pervert’s face.
“Oh, watch out! She’s got her goose!” Drew warned, right before I flung it at Bearded Jerk.
Well, kind of.
I didn’t get that far because Bearded Jerk moved his hand up at lightning speed, deflecting the glass so that it changed direction and fell all over me instead.
The cold drink froze me, and I spluttered for a few seconds before a napkin was shoved in my hand so I could clean myself.
“This isn’t real!” I cried, dabbing at my face with the paper napkin. “He did it again!”
Also, he was gone.
Spinning around, I saw that Bearded Jerk was making long strides towards the front door. He was getting away again!
“Call the police right now!” I called out to Cole, pursuing Bearded Jerk.
Cole was steps behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder to give me pause. He motioned towards the entrance of the bar. “Actually, Officer Monroe just came in, but-”
My eyes landed on the tall, lean guy with a mess of brown hair that had just walked in with a pretty woman whose face was so red and puffy, I was sure she’d been crying up until a few minutes ago.
Bearded Jerk paused to stare at them before slipping right past them. The officer stared after him in confusion.
“Hey!” I called out, hurrying towards the officer. “Excuse me, sir. You’re a police officer, right?”
Officer Monroe stared down at me in surprise. “Well, yes,
but I’m off-duty at the momen-”
“Perfect! Because I need to report a crime.” I jerked my finger in the direction of the Bearded Jerk who had vanished outside. “That guy robbed me.”
I could see he knew exactly who I was talking about because the douchebag had just slipped past him.
“He did?” Officer Monroe raised a brow, looking past me to Cole who was now standing beside me.
“Yes, that crazy man spilled coffee on my silk Gucci blouse and then stole it!” I cried, then motioned at him. “Why aren’t you writing this down?”
The officer exchanged an amused look with Cole, before turning back to me. “Ma’am, do you mean to tell me that you want to report a stolen blouse?”
“Yes, was that not clear?” Had he not been listening?
“Ma’am, we don’t look for stolen blouses.” His lips quirked. “That’s not our job.”
“Are you kidding me?” There had be to be some procedure in place for blouse thieves. I couldn’t be the only human on the planet to be affected by such a travesty.
“If it was a stolen computer, sure. Stolen car, definitely. But a stolen blouse? Couldn’t you just buy another one?”
“It was Gucci!” I cried, throwing my hands up in exasperation.
Did no one understand what that meant?
Bewildered, he stared around for help. “Goo? Chee?”
Ughhhhh.
“Never mind!” I snapped, motioning at my brother with fury. “We’re leaving. Cole, take us home.”
“But you guys haven’t eaten.” Cole gestured behind me towards the bar. “Del has some great food and-”
“Cole, I’m covered in Grey Goose and cranberry juice. I want to go home.” If no one was going to help me deal with my Bearded Jerk problem then I was just going to have to deal with it myself.
I was done with this beverage-spilling town already and I’d only been here for a day. One more, and it might kill me.
Just as long as I killed Bearded Jerk first.
THE ONLY THING WORSE THAN going to the funeral of a family member was going to the funeral of a family member I barely knew.