Two Brutes, One Barista: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy (Alaskan Romance Book 3)

by Shaye Marlow

  “Right now?” she asked, looking at my lips.

  In answer, I took her mouth. I didn’t pull her close, didn’t touch her anywhere else. I just kissed her.

  I kissed the hell out of her, kissed her with all my desire, kissed her until we were both breathless. And then I kissed her some more. I kissed her until I was pretty sure we were well past one or two, or even a dozen kisses. (Depending on how you count kisses, I suppose.)

  Our mouths didn’t part, because I needed her mouth on mine, needed it like air. And like air, I breathed her in. I grew dizzy, and still I kissed her, reveling in her soft lips, the nip of her teeth. My tongue was in her mouth, then hers in mine. The way we moved together was perfection.

  In celebration, I kissed her some more. She’d been sitting on my lap already, but now she was clinging to me, and making little sounds in the back of her throat. I ate them up, knowing I could have her, right here in this boat…

  And with that thought, I knew I needed to stop. So, I did. I pulled my mouth from hers, and held her until she caught her breath, until I caught my breath.

  Then I helped her gently off my lap, drove her home, walked her up from the docks, and dropped her off, and nothing else happened.

  Chapter Seven

  THEA

  “What the heck is going on?” I asked, watching a group of men follow my boss up from the docks the next morning.

  My roommate Mitzi and I were sitting at the little table out front of the coffee shop. Below us, more newcomers were unloading large black tubs from their boats.

  Mitzi’s head turned as a particularly good-looking specimen passed by. Once his rear end disappeared around the corner of the lodge, she seemed to realize I’d asked a question.

  “Oh, didn’t you hear?” she asked. “Lane rented out the lawn to Bigfoot hunters. I guess they ran out of room in their camp, so a few of them will be setting up tents out back. A few of the hotter ones, thank god,” she said with a sigh, brown eyes catching on another man headed back down to the boat. He slanted her a sexy smile as he strode past.

  “Damn,” she breathed, shooting me a glance as I sipped my hot chocolate. “I bet that one could make you cum.”

  I nearly choked, then gave her a quelling look.

  She ignored it. “I mean, seriously, 24 years is a bit too long to wait for your first orgasm. And that guy looked—”

  I’d glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot before interrupting. “I’ve had orgasms,” I corrected.

  “Okay, 24 years is a bit too long to wait for your first orgasm, at the hands of a man. I mean, your past boyfriends must have been complete dumbshits.”

  I didn’t argue.

  She sipped her own drink as she considered. “What about J.D.? He looks like he might know his way around a woman’s body.”

  “I have no doubt that you’re right. But,” I said before she could get excited, “we’re friends.” Not gonna mention that kiss, not even gonna think about that kiss. I’d had too much to drink, and J.D. was too sexy to resist. That was my excuse, and I was sticking to it.

  “You could be friends with benefits,” she pointed out.

  And what benefits those would be, I thought as I watched another round of bags and equipment come up from the boats.

  Mitzi leaned forward. “Thea,” she said, “you deserve someone who’ll rock your world. Someone who looks at you like—well, like J.D. does.”

  I nodded, looking down at my drink. He’d scalded me with some of those looks. Scalded me with his tongue… God, I thought, squeezing my thighs together.

  “You’re missing your opportunity here,” Mitzi continued. “That man is hot, and I think he really digs you.”

  “I’m not gonna have sex with somebody just for the orgasms,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

  “But it wouldn’t be just for the orgasms,” she argued. “You like him. Don’t try to deny that you do.”

  “I’m not denying it,” I said quietly. “And that’s just the problem. I like him too much.”

  Mitzi rolled her eyes. “You’re supposed to like them. The sex is better that way.”

  “Yes, I understand that,” I said. A fisherman rounded our table and let himself into the coffee shop.

  “How is it even possible that you haven’t gotten with him?” Mitzi asked. “That sexy thing has been pursuing you since the moment he first saw you. For days. I’ve seen him over here, visiting you at the coffee stand.”

  I shrugged and stood.

  “Thea,” she said, looking up at me. “You’ve been giving him the cold shoulder, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I moved around the table toward the door.

  “But why?” she cried. “A guy as hot as that, who’s that into you—who’d probably do anything to or for you—why on earth haven’t you hit that?”

  Spurred by her drama, I ducked into my coffee hut. The fisherman was standing at the counter as I rounded it. Mitzi, who’d chased me inside, crowded right up next to him, crossed her arms over her ample chest, and stared at me accusingly. Taking the crowding in stride, the guy asked for a mocha.

  “Why, Thea?” Mitzi repeated.

  Argh! “I’m just trying to keep things simple,” I said, slamming the coffee filter into place.

  “Simple?” she demanded. “Simple is hit it and quit it. Have some fun with him, a few nights maybe, and move on.”

  I stared at the shot as it drizzled forth, my mind racing. “I don’t know if I can do that,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know if I can do that!”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because…” I let the air out of my lungs on a sigh. “I like J.D. too much. I’d fall in love with him. And I don’t want to deal with the fallout when he leaves,” I said. “Story of my life: They always leave, and I’m freaking tired of it.” I set the fisherman’s drink in front of him, and belatedly remembered he was there, listening.

  He smiled at me, and I was struck by his emerald green eyes. “What is it they say?” he asked. “Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.”

  I stared at him, realizing at about the same time Mitzi did that he was wickedly handsome. Thick black hair, a rugged chin, strong build…

  “Well, hello,” Mitzi said.

  “Hey,” he said, sparing her a glance.

  “Thea here needs a man to give her orgasms, if you’re interested.”

  “Mitzi!”

  The guy laughed. “Under other circumstances—a couple years ago—I’d have been happy to help. But, I’m taken,” he said, tapping his ring.

  He handed me a five. “For what it’s worth,” he said, those bright eyes back on me, “I’d go for it. You only live once. And J.D.’s a good’un. Not at all like his brothers.”

  I was still digesting that, and holding his money, when he slipped out the door.

  Mitzi turned to look at me. “Who the heck was that?”

  “Totally beats me,” I replied. “Somebody who knows J.D.”

  “Well, even he agrees. Voice of God, and all that. You should do him,” Mitzi concluded.

  I was on the verge of yelling at her, but managed to resist. “I’ll think about it,” I said, trying to make her go away.

  “See that you do. Twit.” She headed for the door. “Now, I’m gonna go find that guy with the killer smile.”

  A couple hours later, I jumped as a loud sound murdered the silence. Was that… a horn?

  I glanced out the window behind me—and into J.D.’s grinning face. He was smiling at me out of something painted a lovely bright red.

  I opened the coffee shack’s window, and saw that it was a Jeep. “This isn’t a drive-through,” I yelled over the rumble of the engine. Considering how shiny and new it looked, I was amazed the vehicle was making that much noise.

  His brothers crowded up behind J.D.’s seat. They were grinning at me, too.

  I folded my arms on the sill, su
rveying the tracks they’d left across the yard. “And that was Lane’s lawn.”

  The engine revved. “Come with us,” J.D. called. “We’re going off-roading.”

  “I’m working.”

  “You close in five minutes. We can wait.” J.D.’s blue eyes flashed in the afternoon sunshine.

  I glanced at his two brothers. Hesitated. “You said your brothers are crazy,” I pointed out.

  J.D. waved a hand. “They’re harmless.”

  From the back seat, both brothers chuckled and nodded.

  “C’mon,” J.D. coaxed. “You can ride up front with me.”

  “Yeah, c’moooonnn,” the brothers pleaded.

  I laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll be out in a few. Get off my boss’ lawn before she sees you.”

  Six minutes later, I jumped into the front seat. “So, where are we going?”

  J.D.’s bicep lengthened as he reached out and tapped a little screen affixed to the dash. “We’re visiting our sister.”

  Leaning closer, I realized it was a GPS of some sort, with a little line stretching between us and a point on a lake to the northwest. “Is that a road?” I asked.

  From the back seat, the brothers scoffed. “She’s as bad as you,” one of them muttered.

  “There’s no road, no trail,” J.D. said. He put the vehicle into first gear, and I had to tear my gaze from his hand on the shifter.

  “We’re making one today,” one brother said. “Maiden voyage,” said the other.

  We crossed the yard, and J.D. eased us into the woods. The ride immediately became rougher as the tires found humps and bumps. High bush cranberries scraped at the wheel wells, and the brittle branches of a dead willow screeched against my door.

  I winced. “We’re scratching up the paint.”

  “That’s the plan,” one of the brothers said, his manner mild. “Scratch off all the red, and then we can paint it the color we really want.”

  “And what color is that?” I asked, thinking that the red had been really pretty.

  “Camouflage.”

  J.D. snorted as he glanced in the rearview mirror. “Weren’t you giving Ed shit about his camo paint job?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the brother said. His face was utterly straight.

  “You’re so full of shit,” J.D. muttered.

  “Is that what I should call them? ‘Full of Shit’?” I asked.

  “Oh, sorry,” J.D. said. “The lying cretin is Rory. The other lying cretin is Zack.”

  “And you’re Thea,” the lying cretin named Zack said, leaning forward and grinning at me with interest.

  “We heard you’re in college,” said Rory.

  “Yep.”

  “What for?” Rory asked.

  “Physical therapy.”

  “Physical therapy, huh?” Zack said it with lazy lasciviousness, and braced his arm on my seat as he leaned even closer. “So, you do a lot of… rubbing?”

  J.D. took his hand off the shifter to give Zack a swift elbow-jab to the chest.

  Zack ‘oof’ed and fell back laughing.

  Men.

  “Seriously, though,” Rory said. “You’re helping our boy with his shoulder?”

  “Yep.”

  “How?” Zack asked, leaning forward again.

  “Well, I’m rubbing it.”

  Zack bit his lip.

  I winked at him. “I’ve been working with him on stretching exercises, and trying to work out the tightness and adhesions with massage.”

  “Is that the only option, with an injury like his?” Rory asked. He appeared genuinely interested.

  “Well, I’m no doctor, but it’s my understanding that the only other option is jerking it,” I said.

  Zack burst out laughing.

  Rory elbowed him to silence. “What do you mean?”

  “A frozen shoulder is stuck. Your options are to regain mobility slowly via stretching, or quickly by having it forced beyond its current range of motion.” When I saw the interest still on Rory’s face, I explained. “Usually the orthopedist will put somebody out, into a sort of twilight sleep, and then they force the arm into a fully extended position.”

  “Does the person have to be asleep?” Rory asked.

  J.D. frowned at him in the rearview mirror.

  “The pain is excruciating, so yeah, I’d say it’s a really good idea.”

  Rory rapped the back of J.D.’s seat. “Why didn’t you have that done?” he asked. “The jerking.”

  “Long story,” J.D. said.

  We all stared at him, and waited.

  He sighed. “The initial injury was covered by fight night insurance. I had to have surgery, and then started in with physical therapy. But I got overzealous, and I reinjured it, and met my yearly limit just after being diagnosed with a frozen shoulder. So now, no insurance. And if I can’t fight again, I won’t have insurance next year, either. And I don’t have several thousand dollars floating around to pay for the procedure out-of-pocket.”

  J.D. glanced over at me. “I mean, I was making good money on my fights, but I was spending it too, you know? There were coaching costs, and travel, and just… living. You’re gonna laugh, but these sweats of mine? Over a hundred apiece, top and bottom.”

  My jaw dropped. “But… why?”

  “Why do they cost so much? Well, they’re made of some cutting edge material that breathes and wicks sweat, and… I have no idea. And it wasn’t just clothes. It was bars, and cars, and school, and… There toward the end, I’d drop a thousand dollars at a nice restaurant, in one evening, easy,” he muttered, fingers flexing on the wheel. “And then, of course, taxes took the rest.”

  “School?” I asked, looking at him.

  He shrugged as he guided the Jeep over some large, mossy rocks.

  Rory leaned forward. “You going for your bachelor’s?” he asked me.

  I nodded.

  “Zack’s in college, too,” J.D. said.

  “Oh yeah? What are you going for?” I asked, turning in my seat to look back at him.

  Zack’s face flooded with color. Gazing out the window, he didn’t answer.

  “Art,” J.D. said, a little smile curving his lips. The man was almost too appealing to be real. Golden sunshine glinted off the light-colored hair on his head, stubbled jaw, and forearms.

  I looked Zack over critically for a moment. Every muscle, tattoo, and millimeter of scruff screamed ‘macho man’, loud and clear. “What medium?”

  “He likes to paint murals,” Rory said. “He painted the café sign.”

  “Really?” I smiled at Zack, delighted to realize there was a talented and playful artist under that rough exterior.

  Zack grumbled, his gaze still pinned to the side window.

  “I love how you did the hook, how you made it come right out of the sign. And the detailing on the rim of the cup—”

  The Jeep rocked to a halt, drawing my head around. Before us stood a clump of trees rimmed with a bushy stand of alders on the left, and a steep bank on the right.

  “Crap,” J.D. said.

  Rory leaned forward eagerly. “We have a plan for this,” he said. “Point us toward that big tree in the middle, the birch. It’s leaning away and everything.”

  J.D. shook his head. “No, I don’t like your ‘plans’. I think we can make it,” he said, eyeing the hill.

  Then, he pulled hard to the right. The brothers’ whining objections were lost under the roar of the engine as the Jeep scaled the hill as though it had claws. Bugs and leaves and seeds smacked against the window and sloughed off.

  I clutched my seat as we bounced ever upward, then shrieked with laughter as J.D. took another hard turn, pointing us back downhill. My next shriek was more of the alarmed variety as we flew over a big bump and my head nearly hit the ceiling. By the time I’d strapped myself in, J.D. was veering back onto level ground. Relatively level ground.

  The brothers’ gleeful laughter was loud over the thunder of my heart. They hig
h-fived.

  J.D. shot me a grin. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. You guys are probably gonna be the death of me, but at least I’ll die smiling.”

  In the back, Zack and Rory cackled. “We like her,” Rory announced, speaking for Zack as if they had some sort of hive mind.

  I grinned at J.D. “Should I be afraid?”

  “Oh yes,” J.D. said. He veered around a marshy area that tried to suck us in, slung mud up past the windows as he gunned it, and wound up funneled down a narrow ravine.

  We rolled to a stop at another wall of trees.

  “Just hold her steady,” Rory said from over my shoulder. He handed me a little metal brick with the safety flicked back from a big red button. “Push that,” he said.

  “Uhhh.”

  “C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Rory coaxed. “Push it,” he whispered into my ear.

  “You know you want to,” Zack whispered into the other.

  Fuck it. I pressed the button.

  Something small streaked out of the front of the vehicle, almost too fast to see. A little clod of dirt jumped as whatever-it-was grounded itself at the base of the tree in front of us.

  I started to glance back at the brothers, wondering if that was it.

  BOOM! Dirt sprayed over the windshield as the whole vehicle shuddered. The dirt slid away in time for us to see the tree topple in a wild thrashing of leaves. Its roots had peeled up from the ground entirely, leaving an alley just big enough for us to fit.

  The brothers high-fived again.

  J.D. looked less excited. The steering wheel creaked under his grip. “We had explosives in the truck?” he asked.

  “Well, yeah,” said Rory, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Just a couple dynamite-enhanced model rockets is all.”

  Zack leaned forward and tapped the GPS. “Looks like Helly’s place is right over that hill,” he said.

  J.D. put the Jeep back in gear.

  “What are these?” I asked, pointing to the dotted lines that crisscrossed the map on our side of the river.

  “Previous routes,” Rory said. “Not with the Jeep, obviously,” he added, replying to J.D.’s puzzled look. “On foot, or by four-wheeler.”

  “We were scouting,” Zack said, just as Rory said, “We were hunting.”