Wrecked

by Jeannine Colette

  “You don’t think Victoria took her hit inside my bar, do you?” I ask as soon as the thought pops in my head.

  Suzanne ponders that for a second. “I never saw her leave.”

  I kick the shelf in front of me, making it sway, and rub my hand over my face. If anyone is dealing in my bar, I am going to have huge problems, and I won’t be the only one paying for them.

  Shaking my legs and then my arms, I do a McConaughey shimmy-shake dance and get the bad vibes out. Knowing there’s a problem is the biggest part of the battle. I’ll have Juice and Ron, our other bouncer, screen everyone who comes in. The staff will be vigilant. I’ll talk to Paulie and find out what else we can do.

  “Let’s talk about something else. How was your night with Rory?”

  She blushes rosy red but reels it in and gives me a nonchalant, “It was cool.”

  I nod my head and act disinterested in her response as I tally up the bottles of Bacardi. “Sounds good. So, you’re not gonna give him another shot, right?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  I can’t help but smile. Suzanne is the worst when she falls for a guy. She thinks, if she says it out loud, she’ll jinx it.

  “What about you?” she asks. “Ready to give someone a chance?”

  “No,” I answer with an exaggerated O. I note on my paper that we need more Captain Morgan.

  She stretches her legs out. Her black Converse sneakers almost reach my feet. “You are the biggest prude-slut I’ve ever met.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  Flipping her curls behind her shoulder, she says, “Sure it does. You’re the world’s biggest tease. You’re kinda sexy and slutty, but as soon as a guy approaches, you give him the cold shoulder.”

  I lower my clipboard. “I might be kinda slutty, but that’s just an act. However, for the record, I am a whole lot of sexy.” I emphasize with a hand wave up and down my body. “Maybe if I were approached by a guy who had more than a hey-baby line, I’d give him the time of day. I want the cheeseburger, you know?”

  “I don’t, but I know you’ll enlighten me.”

  “The man who invented the hamburger was smart. The man who invented the cheeseburger—”

  “Was a genius,” she finishes for me. “I don’t think McConaughey was referring to his love life when he said that.”

  “I don’t want just any guy. I want the guy. A man who stands out in a crowd. He doesn’t care what others think and isn’t afraid to be funny or cry. He’s also daring. Maybe even a little dangerous.”

  “Your cheeseburger?”

  “My cheeseburger.” I let out a dreamy sigh. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

  “It’s not McConaughey’s yet…”

  “We’re down to weeks now. McConaughey’s is the love of my life, so there is just no room for a guy right now.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “It’s called commitment.”

  “You need to commit some time to those roots.” Using her pointer finger, she makes a swirling motion toward the top of my head.

  “You’ve got some sort of ombre thing going on without even trying.”

  “Ombre’s still in, right? Some people pay big bucks to purposely have dark roots and lightened ends.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’ve got a little more time until you go from chic to shabby.”

  I pick up a couple of strands and look at my split ends. “The budget is low these days.”

  “Good thing your best friend is a hairstylist.” She’s referring to herself. Suzanne works at a salon on Main Street. “We need to touch that up. Pronto.”

  “What are we touching up?” A male voice is heard as a figure pops in the doorway, making us jump.

  My hand flies to my chest and then swats my brother in his. “Way to scare a girl!”

  Luke rubs his chest. “Damn, woman, not a nice way to greet your date.”

  Suzanne rises from the crate. “You won’t go out with anyone in town, but you’ll date your brother?”

  Luke makes a face of disgust, and I roll my eyes at her.

  “Baby brother is taking me to lunch.”

  Suzanne folds her arms in front of her. “Really? Where?”

  I turn to Luke. “Yeah, where are we going?”

  He leans against the doorframe and smiles. “There’s this really great place in town. Serves awesome wings, and we can watch the game from the table while they serve us free beer.”

  My shoulders fall. “We’re eating here, aren’t we?”

  “Why would we possibly go anywhere we’d have to spend money when you literally have a bar at your disposal?” he asks.

  “Just because I work here doesn’t mean you get to eat and drink everything in stock.”

  Luke is freaking Pac-Man. The guy will put me in bankruptcy before I even get the new sign up.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he says as he backs away and walks into the bar.

  It’s Monday, so the place is relatively quiet for the lunch crowd. We get a lot of action during football season but not as much in the summer. Candace, our other bartender, is behind the bar, and Noreen is wiping down a four-top in the back. Tonight, the place will be packed for Monday Mayhem. It’s only during the summer when the college crowd is home.

  Behind the bar, I pour two Cokes from the fountain. When I hand them to Luke, he makes a disappointed face.

  “Seriously?” he says.

  “You’re not twenty-one,” I say. Then, I walk back around to take a seat next to him.

  He hangs his head. I give him a sympathetic pat and take a sip of my soda. I’m about to ask him how many wings he wants me to order when the telltale blue lights of a police car pour in through the front window of the bar.

  We crane our necks to look outside. The copper hair and commanding posture are the first things that register in my brain. Adam exits his police cruiser and walks over to a white Altima that just pulled into the parking spot near the front door. Kimberly, the girl he questioned at the bar last weekend, gets out of the Altima. The two stand and talk for a while. I’m surprised to see him in uniform. I thought today was his day off.

  On Saturday, she looked uncomfortable to be talking to him as he questioned her with that picture in his hand. Today, she seems appreciative, almost relieved to see him. She smiles at him.

  Why is she smiling? He doesn’t make girls smile. He’s supposed to make them annoyed, mad, sad…anything but smiley.

  “Looks like your parole officer found himself a new inmate,” Luke says.

  I kick him in the ankle.

  He grabs his leg. “What was that for?”

  Suzanne comes over and takes a seat on the other side of me. “What are you guys looking at?”

  Luke speaks over his shoulder, “Leah’s boyfriend is outside.”

  Suzanne adjusts her eyeglasses as she stands up to see. “Looks like he’s moved on to a new lawbreaker.”

  Luke spins around. “That’s what I said. Why aren’t you kicking Sue?”

  I flick my paper wrapper from my straw over my shoulder at Suzanne. “Yes, you both made the same bad joke.”

  Kimberly leans forward and hugs Adam, who just stands there with his hands out. She steps back and waves as Adam goes back to his car and climbs into the driver’s side. She’s now walking into the bar while Luke, Suzanne, and I watch as she takes a seat nearby. As she settles onto the stool, she looks up and sees the three of us staring at her.

  “Hey, guys.” She gives a little wave.

  Suzanne and Luke adjust their postures, acting like they weren’t spying.

  “Everything okay with you and the good officer out there?” I ask, motioning with my chin to Adam’s car that is driving off.

  “Yeah,” she says, her tone weary. “Something happened this weekend that was a little close to home.”

  “I saw you talking to him on Saturday,” I say.

  I know everything that goes down in this town. It’s really
not a surprise to anyone that I ask so many questions.

  Suzanne sighs and asks, “Does anything happen in here without you noticing?”

  I grin. “Nope.”

  Kimberly starts talking, “Adam came in here, looking for this kid I work with at the deli. His parents said he hasn’t come home. I remembered him telling me that he was going to a house out in Piedmont. He even mentioned a friend’s name, so I told Adam about it. Turns out, he knew the house, and when he got there, the kid was overdosing. If Adam hadn’t shown up, that kid would have died for sure.”

  Suzanne gasps. “That’s amazing.”

  “How did Adam know about the house?” Luke chimes in.

  Kimberly answers, “Apparently, the name of the guy I mentioned is some well-known drug pusher.”

  A flashback of Adam barging through the doors of the police station with a criminal in a cuffed grasp before him flies through my mind.

  “Nico Martinez,” I whisper.

  “You know him?” Kimberly asks, placing a hand over her heart. “Sounds like they made a second bust today. He said a girl was found unresponsive. They never would have gotten to her if it wasn’t for Nico’s arrest.”

  I blink out of my memory of being cornered by the felon—his hands on me, the smell of stale cigarettes on his breath, and his knee spreading my thighs apart as he inched closer.

  I look to Suzanne, who knows everything about my Saturday night.

  She gives me an understanding frown. “Looks like you’re not the only one Adam saved that night.”

  chapter SIX

  It’s Tuesday, and Adam is on my front stoop at nine in the morning on the dot. I open the door just enough, hoping we can leave without my parents asking him to stay. Since my dad has summers off from teaching, he’s already elbow deep in sugar and dough.

  “I can drive myself,” I hiss at him.

  “With what car?”

  “Adam, is that you?” my mom’s voice calls out from the kitchen.

  “Sorry, Pam. We’re late. See you later,” I shout over my shoulder and head out the door.

  Running down the front stoop, I walk my ass straight to the car and try to get out before my mom attempts to lure him in with dad’s orange loaf.

  I’m at the sidewalk when I realize Adam isn’t walking with me. He’s standing on one of the front steps.

  I lean forward with my arms stretched out and ask, “What? Did you want to spend another morning playing pretend boyfriend with my parents?”

  He’s standing there like he’s confused about why I don’t want him to go in the house. Not a smile or a frown. Not even a hint of an expression on his face. Just a bewildered blankness.

  I make a hand motion, urging him to come down the walkway and get in the truck. After a beat, he gets the hint and walks toward me. Each booted step is heavy and thick as he strides down the walkway, heading straight for me. For a second, I think he’s going to open the passenger door. Instead, he walks right up to me.

  Close.

  Super close.

  His movement slows down to a painfully unhurried motion. His hard body is just inches from mine. I change my mind and think that maybe he’s going to collide right into me.

  It’s already warm outside, but his skin emits a heat that’s far warmer than the morning sun. My body shoots ramrod straight and bursts with electricity. I feel a pulsing from my head down to my toes as his mouth closes in, just centimeters away.

  His mouth. Damn, that mouth. It’s pinched and serious, and if it tastes as mean as it looks, then, by God, I want to be evil as well.

  His head dips to the side, and his body sways, coming closer. An arm wraps around my body, and he leans over and makes a clicking sound. With his other hand, he moves me to the side and then opens the passenger door.

  Yep, he was just opening the door for me.

  I make a deep sound from my throat and smooth out my hair. It wasn’t like I actually wanted him to kiss me. I just thought he was going to. I mean, in my baby-blue yoga pants, my ass looks incredible.

  I scratch my temple, wondering what in the hell that was all about.

  “If they think I’m your boyfriend, then I’d hate for them to think I wouldn’t open your door.” He turns around and waves toward the front window.

  Yep, there’s Pam Paige waving back at Adam.

  Adam is standing with my door open, waiting for me to get in. I crawl in, making sure he gets a nice view of my backside. Once seated, I buckle my seat belt and adjust it, so it’s just below my boobs, pushing them up a bit. With a flutter of my lashes, I wait for him to close the door, like he’s my chauffeur.

  He walks around the car and slides into his seat. My door is still open, so I lean over and close it with a huff.

  Leaning back in my seat, I cross my arms and look at him. He’s wearing his work jeans again, worn and with light splotches of paint on them. The work boots are back, and he has on a plain white T-shirt. He slides on his sunglasses and uses his blinker before pulling away from the curb. How a man who looks so delicious can act like such a square is beyond me.

  I close my eyes and daydream in the silence of the long drive to nowhere land.

  When we get to the house, I look for Toby and ask him where I’m needed. He gives a questioning eye to Adam, who just nods his chin.

  “Hi, Leah. You can work with Tim and Gary. They could use an extra hand today.” Toby motions over to the two cute boys who lent me the tape measure last time.

  With a smile on my face, I start to walk toward them. I’m a few strides away when a callous hand grabs my arm and pulls me back.

  “She’s with me today. This is community service, not party time.” Adam’s deep gruff sounds from behind my head.

  Toby has a confused look on his face but just shrugs. Looking at his clipboard, he says, “Okay, you are on sanding duty this morning. Start in the master and work your way down. There are masks in the trailer.”

  I walk inside and leave Adam to watch my blue-clad booty walk away and up the stairs. I grab a block and start sanding down the walls when I see a white conelike mask being shoved in my face. I turn to face Adam’s very serious expression.

  “I’m not wearing that.” I refuse the offending item.

  He shoves it back in my face. “You’re wearing it.”

  I push his arm away. “Ew. Get that ugly thing away from me.”

  Taking the space in between me and the wall, Adam is now standing with his ribs against mine, glaring down at me with eyes focused and determined.

  “The dust can clog your lungs, which can lead to respiratory issues and lung cancer.”

  I place a hand on my side and tilt my head. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

  His chest restricts and pushes into mine just a little more. He lowers his chin and levels his eyes down to mine, and with a growl, he says, “I don’t want you getting sick.”

  I take in a quick breath. The hair on the back of my neck stands straight. “Fine. I’ll wear the stupid thing.”

  With a shaky hand, I grab the mask from him, but he swipes it back.

  Pulling the elastic on the back, Adam slowly places the mask over my head. His fingers graze over my cheek as he lowers it down over my nose and mouth. He pulls my ponytail out of the elastic and lets it fall back down. A stray hair must have escaped because he is tucking it behind my ear.

  When the mask is in place, I back away. “What about you?”

  “I don’t need one.”

  I stomp my foot. “Why do I have to wear this ugly thing?”

  “Because I don’t care about myself.” Adam turns around, grabs a sanding block, and gets back to work.

  “Maybe I do,” I add as I throw the cone at him.

  His back is stiff, the ridges amplified through his shirt, as he takes a deep breath in and holds it. He grabs the cone off the ground and slides it over his face.

  We spend the morning working in silence. He stays on the other side of the room. I keep to
my side. He doesn’t make a comment about what I’m doing or how I’m doing it. He doesn’t try to correct me, and he doesn’t try to redo what I’ve already accomplished.

  Every once in a while, I turn my head and catch a glimpse of him. As his arms work in a circular motion, the triceps tighten under the smooth sun-kissed skin.

  As it gets closer to noon, the heat is sweltering. Since we’re sanding, they didn’t give us a fan because it would just blow the dust all over.

  I pull on my T-shirt and fan out my chest. “It is so hot in here. I can hardly breathe.”

  My hair might be in a cute pony, but the little hairs that have escaped are sticking to the back of my neck. I know Adam said I have to dress so as not to get any scratches, but sanding is hardly going to get me hurt. Deciding his rules are dumb, I lift off my T-shirt and throw it to the side. Now, I’m just wearing a black racerback sports bra. I’m still sweaty. At least now, my shirt isn’t sticking to my armpits.

  I glance back. Adam is crouched on the floor, block in hand, with his head swiveled around, looking at me. His eyes widen slightly as they stare at my chest peeking out of the top.

  “I’m wearing your stupid mask. You can’t make me wear a shirt.”

  He blinks and looks down, suddenly fascinated by the pile of dust that has formed by his boot. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Well”—I sidestep and then head back to my wall—“your face says it all.”

  When lunchtime rolls around, I put my shirt back on, and we head downstairs. Adam hands me a lunch bag and then stalks off to talk to Toby.

  I grab a water from the cooler and take a seat at one of the folding tables. Opening my bag, I see he packed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, banana, and a Hershey’s Kiss. There’s something oddly adorable about the lunch, like he made it for his kid. That said, there’s also something annoyingly condescending about the lunch, like he made it for a kid.

  I open the chocolate and pop it into my mouth. The metal chair beneath my butt is hot, and the table is out in the sun. I place the water bottle between my boobs and let the ice-cold plastic cool my skin.

  “What are you doing?” Adam says as he takes a chair from the opposite side of the table and sits down. He reaches into his brown bag and takes out a sandwich.