by Alison Tyler
‘Not me,’ he told her. ‘Our town. She was here over a month ago, and now she’s back.’
‘Is that so?’ the sultry bartender asked me.
I nodded.
‘What’ll you have?’
I looked over the impressive array of liquor bottles, and then felt myself suddenly pushed forwards, momentarily pinned against the old wood bar by a heavy force. I turned as Cody brushed off the aggressor, flicking him away as if he were no more than a dried-up leaf attached to my leather vest. ‘Gets a bit rowdy here,’ he said. ‘Gotta watch for the cowboys.’
‘You’d know,’ the bartender replied sweetly. ‘Cody’s the biggest cowboy of ’em all.’
‘Say you’re sorry to the lady, Alden,’ Cody insisted.
The man, flush-faced, nodded his head at me. I immediately recognised him as the fireman I’d seen outside the bakery on my first day back in town. My mild annoyance from being jostled turned to instant interest. ‘Sorry, pretty lady,’ he said. ‘Lost my footing.’
‘You didn’t,’ Cody insisted. ‘You were messing with the rest of the hoodlums, trying to get a better look at the shiny new redhead in town, weren’t you?’ He turned to me now. ‘Alden’s got a thing for redheads. For the colour red, in general, I guess. It’s why he’s a firefighter.’
I felt eyes on me, and I turned my head to see a girl with hair a shade lighter than mine, but gingery just the same. She had on a tight wrap-around dress in jewel-toned emerald, and she was wearing it over a pair of indigo-dyed stove-pipe jeans. Dresses over jeans had been popular briefly several seasons before in LA, as a kind of in-your-face look, but they were a definite ‘out’ right now. While I appraised her, she responded in kind, staring intently at me, her large almond-shaped eyes cool and calculating, her fuchsia-slicked lips pinched tightly together. Her two girlfriends stepped in close, whispering something to her. I understood the situation immediately. They were sizing me up as competition. I quickly turned away, not interested in becoming gossip for the evening. Still, I’d had a long enough look to note that the girl in the centre was attractive, and that she was accustomed to being the one people paid attention to when they walked into the place.
‘Your drink,’ the bartender repeated, but this time she wasn’t asking. Cody had obviously pointed to what he wanted her to serve me. I was pleased to discover a shot of tequila waiting for me on the bar.
‘Next one’s on me –’ I assured him.
‘We’ll see about that.’
We lifted our shots simultaneously, downed them together and grinned at each other. I don’t know how many he’d already had, but the first one for me is always the most powerful of the evening. I felt the jolt of alcohol enter my system, and I took a deep breath of the stale bar air and closed my eyes as the power of the fiery Mexican liquor worked through me.
‘Good, huh?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You looked like the type.’
‘Which type is that?’
‘Not the frilly fancy Cosmo drink type.’
‘No?’
‘You looked like a girl who’d go for a nice clean shot.’ I could tell that, while complimenting me, he was making some mildly derogatory comment about the twittering females in the back. The ones who held pale-coloured drinks with pastel paper umbrellas dancing within the rims.
‘A purist,’ I agreed. ‘I’ve never been one for mixing.’
‘How about for dancing?’
I cocked my head and listened to the jukebox. Pink Floyd’s ‘Money’ was playing, one of my favourites, but not a great melody to dance to. Nobody was out on the battered semicircular dance floor, anyway. I looked back at Cody.
‘Noah Sweet’s on in about half an hour. He’s worth staying for.’ As he spoke, he nodded to the motley crew of musicians who had begun setting up instruments on the stage in the corner. I settled my rear more firmly on the barstool, deciding to stay a while. As I did, Cody said, ‘I remember you from when you drove through Dogtown, but I never caught your name.’
Before I could answer, the fireman was back, with the business of ordering drinks for himself and his buddies. This gave him the chance to worm in close between me and Cody, and he jutted his chin out at the bartender, saying, ‘Another round, Nica,’ as soon as she looked his way.
I took my time studying him. He had short dark hair like the fur of an animal and a strong, angular face. His eyes were even darker than his hair, and his skin was tan, but not as deeply sun-browned as Cody’s. As he insinuated himself between my barstool and Cody’s, his strong body pressed against mine. Somehow, I could tell that he wanted me to feel his strength. The tequila was working in me already, and I was emboldened by the fact that Cody had invited me into what appeared to be the bar’s inner circle. I didn’t mind the attention at all.
‘Sorry about bumping you before,’ Alden said, waiting as the buxom brunette bartender filled a tray with beers and mixed drinks.
‘No problem.’
‘I thought you were someone I knew.’
‘That can happen.’
‘Instead, you’re someone I’d like to know –’ He said this last bit right into my ear, and his breath tickled my neck. I felt instant goosebumps rise on my skin, and I turned to look directly at him. We were close enough to kiss, but I hadn’t had that much tequila yet. Besides, an impromptu public kiss would definitely send the girls in the back shrieking in dismay, or running to the newspaper with the latest gossip. While I waited to see what he might do, he leaned closer still and said, ‘Save a dance for me, beautiful.’ Then he threw down a handful of crumpled bills on to the old shellacked bar and lifted the tray from the bartender, expertly hefting it and heading back to the pool tables.
‘Classy guy,’ Cody said under his breath.
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s out with his girlfriend, but making eyes at you.’
‘And where’s your girlfriend?’
‘Oh, Cody doesn’t have just one,’ the bartender explained as she reached for our empties.
‘Same again, please,’ I said, pulling out my red leather wallet.
Cody set a heavy hand on mine.
‘My treat,’ I insisted. ‘You got the first one.’
‘I can’t let a lady buy my drinks.’
‘Old-fashioned chivalry,’ I said, teasing him. ‘Don’t you know it’s been dead for years?’
In spite of my protests, he pulled out a sterling silver money clip filled with crisp green bills. ‘Maybe in LA,’ he said with a smile. ‘But we’re a bit slow to catch up with all the newfangled social mores out here at the end of the road.’
‘Then how can I ever repay you?’ I asked in my best Scarlett O’Hara voice.
The band, who’d finished setting up, struck the first reggae chord.
‘You’ll dance with me,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘And make all the other guys jealous.’
I smiled at him. I knew a thing or two about making people jealous. Cody had no idea.
While he went up to the band to make a request, the bartender set a third shot down in front of me. ‘You gotta watch out for that one,’ she said, nodding her head in Cody’s direction, her braids twitching.
‘What do you mean?’
But he was back at my side before she could reply, and she gave me an indecipherable shake of her head in answer.
I didn’t mean to stay until they closed the bar. My intentions had been to hear the band play a set, dance one dance with Cody and head back to my new digs. But you know what they say about the best intentions. Being around other people had reminded me what I was missing by hanging out all by myself, and I stayed for the first set, and then for the second. I danced with Cody, then with Alden, and then with men whose names I never heard, or couldn’t be bothered to remember.
I didn’t get drunk, but by the evening’s end I was relaxed and happy. If this was small-town life, then it was genuinely the life I needed. I slow-danced with the Zeppelin I knew – clad in blue jeans
decorated with colourful splashes of paint rather than his black-and-white waiter’s uniform – and I was introduced to many other locals as I was passed around the dance floor. Quite a few already seemed to know who I was. Rather than make me feel as if I were being watched, it made me feel as if I’d been accepted. I managed to dance with three other firefighters aside from Alden, and all were named Joe. When anyone else spoke to them, they did so collectively, calling them ‘Joe’ even when talking to all three, as in ‘Hey, Joe, want another beer?’ And three voices would shout out, ‘Yeah!’
I also met a supremely attractive female firefighter named Geneva, who had curls the coppery colour of an old penny, and her feline girlfriend Alhambra, a lean model-type with spiky blonde hair. I recognised the couple instantly as the women who had passed me while I was in the phone booth getting off with Johnny. I wondered again if they’d spotted me, but to my great relief I saw no sign of recognition in their eyes. The women were friendly, but mostly kept to themselves.
When I saw them towards the end of the night, they were off in a corner booth, making out. Nobody else paid them any notice, but I watched intently as Geneva slowly licked her girlfriend’s lips, then moved on to kissing her neck deep into the V of her pale purple T-shirt. I could tell from the way Alhambra squirmed in the curved leather booth that Geneva’s hands were busy under the table, doing what I could only guess. Stroking her thighs, perhaps. Or parting Alhambra’s legs and tickling between them. Alhambra’s face took on a pretty flush, and she seemed to have a difficult time not letting loose with a full-on moan. Her lips parted, but she buried her face against Geneva’s strong shoulder, turning her body away from the main portion of the room.
The scene turned me on and, although I tried not to look too hard, I found the vision incredibly sexy – two ravishing women making out in public and causing not so much as a titter of discomfort or amazement. I supposed the rest of the crowd was accustomed to them behaving this way. Or of women in general behaving this way. I’d learned already that there were quite a few lesbians in town: the owner of the artisan cheese shop; the quiet bookstore manager named Diva. Maybe that’s why nobody else seemed interested in this public display of affection.
After several minutes of kissing, Geneva brought her hands up and stroked Alhambra’s pert breasts through her shirt, and the blonde seemed to melt against the leather booth. My own nipples hardened at the sight, pressing up against my soft kid-skin vest.
Other couples paired off as the night progressed, grinding against each other on the dance floor, or finding dark places in the already poorly lit room to kiss and fondle one another. I believed I could actually tell who was going to have company by the night’s end. How sad that I wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones. I would be going home alone, to my solo fantasies.
When the last of us were finally shooed out of the place, Alden walked me to my car. His redhaired girlfriend had already left with her gaggle, including Zeppelin, and Alden obviously felt safe to talk.
‘You lit the place up tonight,’ he said to me, as I rooted for my keys.
‘No, that was all the gaudy neon they’ve got in there,’ I told him, leaning against the old brick wall of the building. The sky was an inky black above us, filled with millions of diamond-bright stars. I couldn’t believe how many stars you could see out here. Without the competing streetlights, headlights and beams from club openings found in LA, the night sky appeared truly heavenly.
He laughed and shook his head. ‘You did.’
‘Cody says you like redheads.’
‘I don’t have a type.’ He ran one thumb under my chin, tilting my head up towards his. ‘I just like –’ He stopped talking and looked at me.
‘What, Alden? What do you like?’
‘You.’
He kissed me then, and my heart started racing. I hadn’t kissed a man other than Johnny in over two years. Even during our ever more frequent break-ups, I’d felt disloyal even thinking about being with someone else. Johnny, on the other hand, had no such qualms.
With effort, I pushed thoughts of my ex out of my mind and concentrated on how good it felt to have this local hunky firefighter want me. He gripped my arms and held me firmly as he kissed me, and I closed my eyes and met his tongue with mine. He let one hand slip down my body, caressing my back before boldly cupping my rear through my velvety skirt and pulling me more firmly against him.
I thought about my first sight of him, at the Cowpie, and the woman who’d teased him about liking redheads. Then I thought about my first kiss with Johnny, up against his Mustang after one of his shows. Had it felt like this – unbelievably sexy? Desperately delicious? Alden used his tongue to lick my lips before kissing me again, erasing thoughts of Johnny as the kiss deepened. The heat between us was palpable, and I stood up on my very tiptoes as his arms came tight around me. I found myself wanting the kiss to go on and on, wanting more than simply his lips on mine.
He smiled at me when we parted. ‘You know I’ve been watching you –’ he started.
‘Watching –’
‘You –’ he said. ‘The way you dress. The way you carry yourself. You’ve got such class. I wanted to ask you out the first day I saw you, but I didn’t know what you’d say.’
‘Yes,’ I told him instantly. ‘I’d say yes.’
And then his lips were on mine again, feverish and intense, and I wondered for a split second what I’d just agreed to. What did my ‘yes’ mean to him? Our kisses were getting hotter, and his hands stroked me more intensely, caressing my ass, holding on to my waist. Maybe I would be one of the lucky ones this evening, after all. When we separated again, I was breathing hard, and I thought about asking him to come back to my cabin with me. Would that be too presumptuous? It had looked like everyone in the bar was pairing off in one way or another. Geneva and Alhambra. Zeppelin and the other redhead in the green dress. Alden’s redhead.
Alden said, ‘Yeah, I’ve had my eyes on you –’ but this time his sentence was interrupted by a loud, metallic sound, followed by three harsh beeps. He fumbled with a pager on his belt, then said, ‘Damn it, Charlie. I’ve gotta run. I’ll catch you next time. I promise.’
I felt suddenly bereft as I watched him sprint to a bright-orange pick-up truck and drive off down Main Street. The three men named Joe all followed immediately after, climbing into a black pick-up and heading in the same direction. I could already hear the doors opening at the firestation, less than two blocks away. I leaned against my car, feeling the cool breeze on my face, smelling the scent of dried grass and fresh air. Even with the commotion from the station, there was more quiet out here than I’d ever heard. I ran my tongue over my lower lip, reliving my most recent kiss and wishing I were one of the patrons from the bar not going home alone.
After a few moments, I unlocked my car and climbed inside, watching as the last few stragglers headed to their own vehicles. I noticed, even in my tequila’d state, that I’d been the only one to disable a car alarm. Nobody else even seemed to have locked theirs. Then I saw Cody leave the building, his arm tight round the luscious brunette bartender. He gave her a firm squeeze around the waist and headed to the hitching post nearby. I watched him climb on to the large dark horse and ride off in the opposite direction from the station. He didn’t look my way, even though I stared at him until he’d disappeared around the corner. There was mystery about that man. I sensed it.
After a moment of sitting there in silence, I started my own car and headed home.
Chapter Seven
A fresh bouquet of wild flowers sat on my woven straw front mat when I opened the door in the morning. I’d heard a rustling outside and thought, Ghost?, remembering Donny’s silly comment. But, if I had a ghost at the cottage, he was an admiring spectre who left flowers. The small gathering contained wild purple irises so dark they were almost black. A few silky, bright-orange California poppies were thrown into the mix, making the bouquet seem like something destined for a Halloween table. I smiled as
I brought the flowers inside and, almost as soon as I had put them in a small blue glass vase filled with water, the phone rang.
‘You like them?’
‘Who is this?’ For a minute, I thought it was Johnny, but I knew better. Johnny would never leave me flowers like that. He’d come hammering at my window, or he might pick the lock on my front door and surprise me in bed, but he’d never do something so subtle as to leave anonymous flowers.
‘You like them?’ the male voice asked again.
‘The flowers? Yeah. Except that it’s against the law to pick California poppies. They’re the state flower. You can go to jail for that.’
‘You’ll have to turn me in, then. Or punish me yourself –’ he paused ‘– that is, if you think you’re up to it.’
‘I would if I knew who you were.’
‘Don’t pull that,’ the deep voice said. ‘You know me.’
I had a choice: Alden or Cody. I considered my options carefully as I poured the last of my coffee grounds into my French Press. Although Cody’s striking blue eyes were on my mind, I went with Alden.
‘How was the fire?’
‘There wasn’t any fire. Just a false alarm. Almost all of our calls are false alarms out here. But of course you have to treat them equally seriously. Otherwise, you might end up with the type of disastrous fire we had on our hands in ninety-four. You can still see the remnants of the burned trees out on the ridge.’
I gazed out the window, and suddenly realised that a bright-orange pick-up truck was sitting in my gravel driveway. I could see it through the smattering of evergreens that lined the fence out front.