“You ‘bout done undressing me with your eyes?” the man asked with a glimmer of knowing amusement shining in his clear eyes.
Blinking quickly, Melody stiffened as she offered the man a shocked stare. She judged the blunt bastard to be closer to forty than thirty, and by the look on his face, he was getting ready to say yet another offensive thing to her. “First, I was not undressing you with my eyes, you egomaniac!”
The Paul Bunyan lookalike scoffed. “Really?” he asked with a smirk, one inky eyebrow shooting up as he eyed her doubtfully. “’Cause from where I’m standing and the way those pretty eyes are dilating, I think I should be about half naked in your mind by now.”
“You are out of your mind, but no! You’re fully clothed in my imagination and everywhere else! Listen, you’re built, honey, but I’ve seen way better,” Melody retorted quickly as a departing customer stepped around them with a grumble. She really wasn’t sure what the proportional response was to this kind of thing, but she was going to make it her mission to get the last word as she narrowed her eyes at the man and took a deep breath. “Look, mister, you appear to be a few years older than me, and I’ve been taught to respect my elders. Unfortunately, you are making that very hard right now. Good manners indicate that I should say a pretty ‘thank you’ for the coffee you bought me, but I think I’ll just pay my own way and say this. It’s a good thing you’re pretty, you flannel wearing fuckwit, because your manners suck almost as much as our friendly neighborhood barista’s do!” she informed him in a sugary sweet voice before shoving the five dollar bill in her hand into the redneck asshole’s shirt pocket. “You have a nice day now,” she added before turning on her high heels and stomping out of the coffee shop, her much needed coffee in her hand.
Honest to God, it was like she actually attracted assholes, she thought grumpily as she pushed past the door into the parking lot. Did she have some kind of moron magnet welded to her ass, she wondered. And dammit, she’d had more than enough of dickheads that thought it was okay to treat her like shit. As of this moment, she consciously decided that she wasn’t going to take it any longer. She was going to stand up for herself if it killed her. There was definitely no way she was going to let some countrified Hercules get the better of her. Sure, he’d had a somewhat menacing vibe going for him with those thighs the size of tree trunks and arms that looked like they could bench press a Buick, but she’d been in a crowded coffee shop surrounded by plenty of witnesses. She could afford to be brave. There was something to be said about safety in numbers and all that, right?
“So, the shy little kitten actually has some claws on her, huh?” a voice that Melody was quickly becoming way too familiar with called from behind her. “I’m impressed, Princess. I didn’t think you had it in you. For a few minutes there, I wasn’t sure you had any spark in you at all.”
Turning to look at him over her shoulder, Melody shook her head. “Oh, I’ve got spark alright. In fact, I’ve got a freaking flame thrower burning. And I swear, if I have to, I’ll chuck it at your head. Don’t you have anything better to do than harass innocent women in desperate need of coffee?” she huffed, lifting her chin defiantly.
“Harass seems like a mighty strong word, doesn’t it?” the man asked with an amused grin, his perfect white teeth glinting in the sunlight. “Seems to me like you’re getting bent out of shape over nothing. I was just trying to offer you a little friendly advice back there.”
Melody turned to face him and offered him an incredulous look. “There was nothing friendly about your advice. You were both rude and obnoxious.”
“I was both honest and blunt,” he countered, taking a sip of his coffee before curling his nose and frowning. “I bet that bitch spit in it,” he complained.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Melody returned as she offered her own cup an uncertain look.
“Fuckin’ cunt,” the man growled as he tossed his cup into the trash can in the center of the lot.
Melody’s eyes widened at that curse. It wasn’t that she didn’t agree. She did. But men around her simply didn’t talk like that in front of women. Not around here, at any rate.
“What?” he growled when he noticed Melody still staring at him with barely concealed dislike. “She was a cunt. I don’t exactly think that’s a debatable issue, is it?”
“Yes, but you don’t need to use that word out loud,” Melody retorted, frowning at him as she continued holding her coffee, thankful that it at least provided some warmth to her cold hands.
“Why not? It’s the fuckin’ truth.” The giant declared with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
“You can not be from around here,” Melody returned with a shocked shake of her head. “There’s no way on Earth.” The man really didn’t have an accent, but his attitude did not scream Southern Gentleman, that was for sure.
“You’re right about that, Princess,” he replied with a smug grin. “I’m what I’m betting a little Southern Belle like you would call a Yankee,” he remarked, drawing out the word with a thickened southern accent.
“No, I wouldn’t call you that,” she denied with an arch look. “I’d just stick with calling you ‘asshole’,” she added informatively.
The giant in front of her chuckled as he jammed his huge hands in his jeans pockets. “It’s honestly been a long time since I called anywhere home, but I was raised in Philly until I was eighteen.”
“I’m surprised. I really would have taken you for a redneck. At any rate, don’t mothers in Philadelphia teach their children manners? The c-word is off limits in polite company, City Boy,” Melody shared tersely.
“Well, if I ever meet my mother I’ll ask her all ‘bout that, Sweetness. Until then, I suppose that I’ll have to take your word for it,” the man sneered, his eyes glittering.
“Pardon?” Melody asked, confused.
“I was a ward of the state, Princess. An orphan. Don’t have a mother. Never did,” he elaborated harshly, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he glared at her.
“Well, shit,” Melody said on a sigh, her cheeks flushing bright red as she realized just how much she must have insulted the guy standing there staring at her.
“And here I’d always heard that the South was supposed to be the friendliest part of the United States,” he mocked. “Are you sure that you’re from around here?”
Scowling at the man determined to make her lose her mind, Melody shook her head. “I apologize for the dig about your mother. If I’d known….”
“Save it,” the man ordered. “We’re even, I guess. According to you, I was rude first.”
“That’s true, but that still doesn’t excuse my behavior,” Melody muttered unhappily, crossing her arms over her chest as the cold wind blew over them. “I really am sorry. Thank you for my coffee,” she said, lifting the cup in her hand in farewell. “Have a good day,” she said again before turning and walking in the direction of her car.
She made it exactly three steps. She counted, damn it.
“Son of a bitch,” she cried, the coffee cup falling from her now numb fingers as she spotted her car, the front driver side tire obviously flat. Hurrying toward it, she groaned as she got a good look at the flattened tire. “Why, Lord?” she beseeched the Heavens a she tilted her head toward the sky. “Why me?”
“Perhaps He doesn’t like the way you express your gratitude either,” a heavily amused, irritatingly familiar masculine voice surmised.
Chapter Two: Sassy, Sweet and Stubborn is not the Sexy Combination I Thought It Would Be
The picture he’d been carrying in his wallet for the last few weeks didn’t do her nearly enough justice, Callum thought with a grin. Crossing a boot-shod foot over the other and leaning negligently back against his shiny, new black F-150 truck, he watched Melody Reardon’s firm ass waving in the air as she bent over to get a better look at the tire on her car. “It’s flat, sweetheart,” he added, more to goad her than to be of any actual assistance.
Choking back his laughter as th
e look she shot him threatened to skewer him where he stood, he made a mental note to call and tell RJ that he was wrong. The other man’s sister wasn’t the sweet little girl he’d painted her to be. Hell, no. She was a firecracker of the first degree. Hot as hell, and explosive as all fuck.
But the fact remained unchanged that his former soldier genuinely believed that his sister needed a guardian angel. So when the Army had released him from service a couple of weeks ago, Ret. First Sgt. Callum ‘Cal’ Valentine had hightailed his ass with all possible haste to the Smoky Mountains in the great state of Tennessee. All so he could protect a woman that looked fully capable of killing, gutting, and dumping his body in one of the many caves the mountains provided.
He’d been ghosting this little spitfire for a solid week, observing her, yeah, but more importantly, he’d been watching to see if anybody else was watching her. So far, nobody seemed to be overly interested in Melody Reardon’s whereabouts, but Cal knew that could change on a dime. Especially when there was a douchebag ex-fiancé apparently involved.
He’d gotten the basic sit rep (or situational report) about the current state of Melody’s life from her brother, RJ. It wasn’t exactly a unique story. Girl meets wealthy boy and fell in love. They get engaged and prepare to live happily ever after until girl finds out boy is actually an incurable cheating, misogynistic asshat. Girl breaks engagement and cuts ties with said asshat.
It should have been a closed case.
Except for the part where the asshat in question begins to tell everyone who’ll listen - including girl’s war deployed brother - that he was going to win back the girl. RJ had, of course, told the asshat to fuck off and stay away from his sister or else, but both RJ and the asshat had known it was an empty threat. Really, what could RJ do from Afghanistan?
The funny part? Somehow, the girl in question had managed to remain happily oblivious to her ex’s nefarious plan. Evidently he was telling everyone except Melody that he planned to get her back. The asshat was also apparently a dumbass. Talk about multi-tasking.
And that’s where he came in, Cal thought with a sigh as he continued to stare at Melody’s shapely ass as she studiously ignored his presence behind her. It was his job to make absolutely sure that the asshat-cum-dumbass in question remained an ex. And to, in RJ’s words, ‘Do that shit by any and all means necessary, Sergeant V!’
Yeah, Cal could still hear the kid’s parting words ringing in his ears as he’d handed over a picture of his sister. The photograph had been about five years old, but Melody still looked mostly the same. Only hotter. Way, way fucking hotter, Cal acknowledged to himself with a long look at the lovely Melody.
He hadn’t introduced himself yet because he’d wanted to do a little more surveillance on her, but this impromptu meeting today might just move up his timetable. He wasn’t a guy that believed in love at first sight, but there was no doubt that this woman intrigued him. He definitely wanted to get to know her better – up close and real personal-like. And to get to know her better, that meant she needed to know that he wasn’t the enemy.
“Are you following me?” Melody hissed without looking at him as she slowly rose back to her feet and dusted off the knees of her slacks.
Cal’s lips twitched at her curt tone, but he managed to keep a straight face as she cut her eyes toward him. “Nope,” he denied. “It’s just a happy coincidence that I parked next to you. God apparently thought I needed some entertainment today, Little Miss Sunshine,” he teased, biting his lip to keep from chuckling when he heard her grind her teeth. Maybe he’d keep his identity quiet for a little longer. He was having way too much fun messing with her.
“Good to know that I’m doing my Christian duty by you,” she muttered darkly as she stomped past him, narrowly missing stepping on his foot as she stormed toward her trunk.
Watching her press a button on her key chain before she lifted the lid, he lost sight of her as she bent over to root around inside the trunk. From the muffled swear words he heard falling off lips that he just knew would look perfect wrapped around his dick, he could hear that she was having trouble getting the spare off the built-in mount in the trunk. “Need some help?” he drawled loudly.
“No!” she snapped waspishly back at him, not bothering to lift her head as she concentrated on what she was doing.
“Are you sure?” he asked with a yawn, nearly choked on his amusement as he heard her drop the f-bomb in an obviously unlady-like voice.
Looking around the side of the car at him, she flashed him a look that would have had a lesser man quaking in his boots. “Are you wearing a hearing aide that you need to turn up the volume on?” she asked loudly, enunciating each word.
“Cute,” he replied dryly. “I’m not that much older than you,” he added with a frown. Honest to God, how old did this chick think he was? Sure, he had a little silver in his hair, but forty-fucking-two wasn’t that fucking old. How old had Sgt. Reardon said his sister was? Twenty-nine? Thirty?
Melody exhaled a frustrated breath. “You’re right. You’re not that old, and I’m being a bitch. I’m a terrible person. You should feel free to go far, far away from me,” she invited him as she made a shooing motion with her fingers.
Tilting his head to the side, he couldn’t believe this woman. Was she actually trying to dismiss him? “I’m fine right here, Sweet Cheeks.”
“Sweet Cheeks?” she echoed through clenched cheeks.
“Darlin’, with the fine ass you’ve been waving under my nose for the last five minutes, did you really expect me to call you anything else?” he asked curiously, laughing when she released a low growl and glared at him.
“You’re a pig, and I think I’m done with this conversation,” she retorted with a red face as she bent back over her trunk and resumed pulling out her spare tire.
“I’ve certainly got better things to do than continue to stand and try to talk sense to a Neanderthal. I’ve got a business to launch, dammit. I do NOT have time for good looking Cavemen that offer my butt backhanded compliments,” he heard her continue to rant under her breath.
“I didn’t think my compliment was backhanded at all,” Cal called out more to let her know he could still hear her more than anything else. Eyeing Melody as she finally straightened, slightly out of breath as she dropped the spare tire to the pavement and began to roll it toward her flat, he couldn’t help his grin. Damn, even sweaty and in a bad humor, she was the most gorgeous thing he’d seen in years. “I can do that for you, you know,” he offered generously.
“No,” she denied flatly, not looking at him as she pulled her long ponytail tight against her head. “I’ve got this.”
“Sure, you do.” Cal smirked, watching as she leaned the spare against the car before going back to the trunk for the jack. “I could just do it better and faster.”
“Because you’re so much more superior than I am, huh?” she bit out harshly as she jerked the heavy jack from the depths of the trunk.
“No, darlin’. Because I’m stronger,” he growled, stomping toward her as he watched her struggle with the weight of the jack. At the rate she was going, she was going to pull a muscle in her back, and he found that he didn’t like the thought of her in pain one bit. “Give me that,” he ordered sternly as he held out his hand to grab the tool.
Snatching the jack toward her chest, she narrowed her eyes. “Over my dead body,” she spat determinedly, her eyes daring him to lay one finger on the metal tool. It was clear that it would be at his peril.
“For Christ’s sake, fine!” he snarled, rolling his eyes as he stepped quickly out of her way. “You drop that thing on your foot, you’re liable to break a toe, woman,” he cautioned her, resuming his position leaning against his truck as she knelt on the ground.
“Thank you so much for the warning,” she returned through barely moving lips.
Cal watched her another minute. “You’re a stubborn little ball of fury, aren’t you?” he asked as he watched her try to attach the tool to t
he lug nut, wincing as the metal slipped for the second time in a row.
Melody took a deep breath before she slowly turned to face her tormenter. “I was brought up believing that a girl should be able to take care of herself. I forgot that lesson for a little while and almost made a mistake I could never undo with a man I’d rather forget. I’m not ever going to repeat that experience again. So, to answer your question, yes, I’m a stubborn little ball of fury. Now, will you please go on your merry way?”
Cal finally gave into the urge and laughed, earning himself a cold look from the woman currently on her knees. “Careful, Princess. I’m gonna get a complex here because it’s beginning to feel like you don’t like me very much,” he taunted her with a wink. Seeing her press her lips together tightly, he knew she was fighting the urge to scream bloody murder at him. Squatting beside her, he met her fiery gaze. “Cat got your tongue, Pretty Girl?”
“No,” she declared with a shake of her head as she looked from him to his jacked up truck. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Ask away, darlin’,” he invited silkily with a ready nod. “I’m an open book,” he declared, holding his muscular arms out to his sides. And it was true. The book on him was open; it just happened to be written in code, he thought to himself as he gave himself a mental pat on the back for his own wittiness.
Tangled Hearts (Passion in Paradise) Page 3