One More Round

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One More Round Page 3

by Shelli Stevens


  “Not really, I like a guy who—wait, you know what? I don’t need to explain my type to you. Take me home, please. Or I’ll walk.”

  “Relax. Whatever you want, doll. I’ll take you home.” He paused. “You wanna share a joint before we go?”

  She wrinkled her nose and folded her arms across her chest. “Did you seriously just offer me weed?”

  “Try it. It’ll relax you.”

  “Oh this just gets better and better. Look, I don’t do marijuana and if ever did my dad would kill me.”

  “Ah. Got it. You’re a daddy’s girl, huh?”

  Her head was going to explode into a million little bits because she was resisting the urge to hit him.

  “Hey, here’s an idea. You need to just stop talking.”

  He laughed and started the car. After she told him where to go, they spent the rest of the ride in silence.

  When they pulled up in front of her house she scrambled to get out.

  “Hey,” he called out, before she could make her escape. “You’ve got a sweet, lush mouth, doll. I wouldn’t mind exploring a little more if you change your mind. Let me know.”

  Not holding back in the least now, she gave him the finger and ran into her house, vowing to kill Kenzie the first chance she got.

  *

  If only she’d had the sense to stick to her initial impression of him and stayed away.

  Sarah blinked the memory from her mind and turned from the window to glance around the house.

  She closed her eyes and drew in a slow breath. The air still held the faint scent of cumin and other spices.

  Leaving India in her twenties hadn’t diluted Gran’s love for cooking dishes from her country. Kaali Daal, a black lentil dish, had always been Sarah’s favorite.

  She could almost taste the decadent food on her tongue. It was too easy to envision Gran chatting with her as she stood over the stove.

  Tears pricked at her closed eyes and she opened them, drawing in an unsteady breath.

  “I’m so sorry, Gran,” she whispered to an empty room. “I should have come back sooner.”

  Of course there was no answer, but the air felt a little thicker and warmer, and she could almost feel her gran’s presence reassuring her.

  Regret made the tears Sarah had been fighting spill free. This time she made no attempt to stop them.

  Chapter Three

  “Give me a Glenfiddich 18. Neat.” Ian kept his hands folded and his gaze on the bar counter, but he could still feel the surprise in his eldest brother’s stare.

  The pub was near empty—apparently Old Man Cooper had gone home already as well.

  “You do realize it’s just about lunchtime.” Aleck made his way down the bar until he was positioned right in front of him. “And you’ve gone and ordered one of the most expensive spirits we have?”

  “You think I’m daft, big brother? Shut your mouth and just pour it already.” Scowling, Ian lifted his head to make sure his brother hadn’t taken offense.

  Aleck, the eldest of all the McLaughlin kids was now sole owner of the pub. He didn’t seem the slightest bit offended by his brother’s comments. He was used to Ian’s quick temper. Instead, his green eyes crinkled around the edges with laughter and his mouth was twisted into a slight smirk.

  “Aye, I’ll give ya your drink. So long as you fill me in on why the fook you’re in such a foul mood.” Aleck’s accent had always been the thickest and slowest to fade.

  “As if you don’t know.” Ian accepted the shot and glared at his brother. “Go bring Kenzie a tire, you say. As if you don’t know just who exactly you were throwing in my path.”

  “No. I haven’t a clue.”

  The genuine bewilderment on Aleck’s face convinced him that maybe his brother wasn’t lying.

  “Look, Kenzie called and said she was in a bit of a mess and needed me to come out and bring her a tire. She didn’t say she was with anyone.” Aleck placed the bottle of scotch back up on the shelf with the other bottles of spirits. “Fill me in already. Who was with her?”

  “Sarah,” Ian finally growled.

  “Sorry, who? Tera?”

  Ian tipped back the scotch and slammed the glass on the bar. “Sarah.”

  “Sarah?” Aleck went still and tilted his head. “As in your Sarah? The good girl you shagged around with in your youth?”

  “Aye. That’d be her.” He stared into his empty shot glass, not seeing the drop of amber liquid, but instead the image of Sarah half-naked in the back of his Camaro. “And I wouldn’t necessarily call her a good girl.”

  “Wasn’t she now? One step from the nunnery from the impression I got.” Aleck grinned. “Though I’m sure any corruption she experienced back then was your doing.”

  “Hmm. Maybe.” The single malt scotch had warmed his insides and taken the sharp edges off the memory of his encounter with Sarah.

  “So, how was it seeing her again?”

  “Oh just fucking fantastic.” He gave a harsh laugh and pushed the empty glass to his brother. “Nearly as fantastic as taking a foot to the balls, I’d imagine.”

  “That lovely? Was she mean? Did she go and hurt your feelings?” Aleck teased good-naturedly.

  “No.” Ian hesitated, unable to share the humor. “More like I hurt her. I probably said some things I shouldn’t have.”

  Aleck nodded. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time either one of you has let your temper best you. You want another drink?”

  “No.” Ian thrust a hand through his hair. “Wait, aye. One more.”

  His brother grabbed the bottle and poured another glass. “I’m sorry. But let me guess. She’s fallen toward the ugly side and is as warm and cuddly as a porcupine?”

  “Perhaps on the porcupine bit, but she’s not ugly.” He drank the second round. “She’s prettier now, if you can believe it.”

  “Hmm. I’m trying to remember her. Short?”

  “Petite. And she’d punch you in the stomach if she heard you call her short.”

  “Which is probably as high as she can reach,” Aleck mused. “Long black hair, I think?”

  Ian nodded.

  “Aye, I remember her hair. She was a pretty thing. Quite exotic. She had that hint of olive skin, but blue eyes. I’m surprised you captured her interest. Back then she was too innocent for the likes of you.”

  And maybe still was. He’d calmed down considerably from what he’d been in his teen years. But he wasn’t an idiot. Ian knew his reputation on the island, and his bad boy image hadn’t fully gone away. Then again, he hadn’t done much to dissuade it.

  “Will you see her again?”

  “I doubt it. I don’t think she cared much for seeing me today, to be honest.”

  “Aye, well you didn’t end on the best terms. Am I right?”

  No. They certainly hadn’t. Just the memory of it was like taking a two-by-four to the chest. His jaw clenched against the wave of guilt and pain. Both emotions had been violently at war that day—as much as they still were now. Beneath those two emotions had been another one. Bitter disappointment. And it was always there. Hot and dark, running a river of anger through his blood.

  He didn’t think about it much. Couldn’t go there in his head, because it was all such a mind fuck.

  “There’s a reason the past is behind you.” Aleck’s quiet words resonated through the warm haze the Glenfiddich had left.

  “Aye. And it’ll stay there—no need to worry about that.”

  “Good. No need to be digging up old dirt. Besides, you’ve got Gina now. I’d almost wager you’re serious about her.”

  Ian’s lips quirked. Almost serious meaning he’d been casually dating her for two months. Or really, they’d mostly just hooked up. Though in his world, that was nearly a lifetime.

  The only exception had been Sarah. They’d been together for almost seven months. His half-smile faltered and he shook his head. That didn’t mean much—only that he’d been young and stupid.

  “Damn, Ian.
Who shit on your parade?”

  The soft feminine question had him glancing up and giving a slow grin to Delonna, the bartender scheduled to work the swing shift.

  “A fourteen-thousand-pound elephant, if you’d believe it,” he murmured and gave her a glance-over. “Hello, Delonna.”

  Her wavy blonde hair was drawn up in a ponytail and her blue-green eyes were narrowed on him with open curiosity.

  She was young, maybe twenty-three, and an absolute stunner. She always brought in a good amount of tips on the nights she worked. While he hadn’t worked at the pub in years, Ian made himself available now and then on a busy day and he’d seen how popular she was.

  He’d asked her out. Once. And she’d turned him down gently, using the “better off friends” line. It had been hard not to take offense at the time, even if nowadays she was just like another little sister to him.

  “Seriously. You look all brooding and scary. Like, more than normal. Are you and Gina fighting?”

  Gina. No, they hadn’t been fighting. Hell, they hadn’t even spoken in days.

  “No, we’re doing grand.” Though grand might’ve been pushing it.

  “He ran into an ex-girlfriend,” Aleck called out from the other end of the counter.

  Delonna glanced down his older brother’s way. “Really now? That can have the potential to wreck anyone’s day.”

  “It didn’t wreck my day, dammit. It just threw me. I haven’t seen her in years.” And then when he did, first chance he’d got, he’d made her feel like shit.

  “Weird. Usually you’re the one agitating the ladies, but it seems like it’s swinging the other way this time.” Delonna cleared her throat when Aleck shot her a sharp look. “I could be wrong though.”

  “A little discretion, Delonna?” Aleck muttered as his scowl darkened.

  She had the decency to flush. “Right. Let me just look that word up again. Always good to see you, Ian.” She shook her head and moved out from behind the bar, making her way to the kitchen.

  “Sorry, sometimes her filter is a bit rusty,” Aleck apologized as he stared after the blonde bartender.

  “It’s Delonna. Not much of a surprise there. We forgive her because she’s got a lovely arse.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Aleck grumbled, glancing away from the retreating blonde. “You shouldn’t be checking out her arse.”

  “I’m not. Actually haven’t in years. She’s all yours.”

  His brother grunted and shook his head. “She’s practically a child. Far too young for my liking. Besides, the last thing I need is a woman right now.”

  “Bollocks. You should be getting laid, and often.”

  Aleck threw his head back and laughed—a low, rumbling sound that resonated in the bar.

  “I never said I wasn’t enjoying female companionship, little brother.”

  Ian grinned and shook his head. “Aye. You’re a true McLaughlin. You taught me everything I know.”

  “Not everything.” Aleck’s amusement seemed to fade some and his eyes clouded. “You should go see Gina. It’ll take your mind off of…things.”

  “Maybe I should.” Ian slid the shot glasses back toward his brother and stood up. “Thanks for the drink. What do I owe you?”

  “Bartend for me the Friday night of Labor Day weekend. We’ll need the extra help.”

  “Done.”

  Aleck collected the glasses and set them in the sink behind the bar. “Can you drive?”

  “Aye. What do you take me for, a novice? It’d take three times that amount to begin to addle my mind.”

  “Of course. Whatever was I thinking?” Aleck came around the bar and hugged him. “Love ya, wee Ian.”

  Though Ian wasn’t short by any means, Aleck certainly could get away with the wee comment. While Ian had inherited more of his mother’s looks, Aleck had taken after Da. Still the McLaughlin green eyes, but with darker hair and an impressive height that ensured he towered over most men.

  Aleck gave him a thump on his back and then pulled away. “Go have fun. You’ll forget all about the other one.”

  The one that got away. The thought raced through his head before he could stop it. And it lingered as he made the drive to his shop in Coupeville instead.

  It was a good thing she’d left him, he told himself. With Gina, what you saw was what you got. She swore like a sailor, was aggressive sexually, had a body like a pin-up girl, and had a streak of meanness that could come out with enough provocation or alcohol. But together, the two of them worked. It complemented the dark side of him so many wanted to deny was real.

  Sarah seemed so sweet and innocent. Lovely and delicate in a way that made men pause and stare. But if you didn’t look beyond the front, you might get blindsided. She could turn on you in an instant. Once she had your heart, she could destroy it with the precision and calculation of a military missile.

  Yes. If he were smart, he’d avoid her until she’d once again left the island.

  *

  Sarah glanced in the mirror and adjusted the delicate purple scarf she’d added to her khaki skirt and black crossover top.

  The scarf had been Gran’s and she’d added it to her outfit at the last minute. She was due at the lawyer’s office in fifteen minutes and if she didn’t start walking, she’d be late.

  She’d already slept in longer than planned this morning. After a long phone call with Emily, she’d spent her evening struggling with painful memories. Not to mention the attempt to spend time on her latest project. She was fortunate enough to be able to travel with her work. Being a freelance graphic designer didn’t always bring in a ton of money, but fortunately the online projects allowed her to work from anywhere.

  Sarah lingered for just a moment more, bringing the scarf to her nose and closing her eyes as she inhaled.

  There was still the hint of her gran’s perfume, and tears pricked behind Sarah’s closed lids.

  With an unsteady, but determined breath in, she opened her eyes and grabbed her purse.

  A few minutes later she was walking down the street toward the small law office in downtown Coupeville. The town had expanded some since she’d been here last. More people had moved into the charming area, but it was still quite small, with most things within comfortable walking distance. A place where everybody seemed to know everybody, and she could feel the probing gazes as she walked down the street.

  Maybe she looked familiar and they were trying to place exactly who she was. Or maybe they knew. But if she wasn’t already, she knew it wouldn’t be too long before she was the talk of the town.

  She found her stride increasing until, with some relief, she entered the small building that housed Gran’s lawyer’s office.

  He was a small man, probably close to seventy, but his gaze was sharp and his grip was strong when he grasped her hand.

  “Ms. Rawlings. I’ve heard quite a bit about you. I’m William Yates.” He smiled and gestured to a chair.

  “Nice to finally meet you in person, Mr. Yates.” Once she had sat with her hands folded in her lap, she met his gaze.

  “You look like your grandmother.” For a moment the all-business expression slipped from his face, replaced instead by something softer. Sadder.

  How well had he known Gran? Sarah knew he’d been her lawyer for at least the last decade, but had their relationship gone beyond the professional? She wasn’t about to ask.

  “Do I?” She gave a small shrug. “I’ve always been told I take after my father’s side more.”

  “Perhaps the eyes, yes. But in other ways…you resemble her so much.” He cleared his throat and reached for a folder on his desk. “Here is a copy of Libby’s will. As I explained during our phone call, she does have a condition that you live in the house for the duration of one calendar month before you are able to place it on the market, should you decide to sell. If you can’t meet this condition, the house will be given to your younger sister with the same understanding.”

  Sarah stared at the words, her
throat tightening as the lawyer clarified them aloud. Her sister had a rich husband, and rarely saw anyone because they were off traveling the world. They didn’t need another house. Sarah on the other hand…

  But a month on the island? She’d known about the condition, and yet hearing it aloud, the finality of it, made the blood rush from her head. She clutched the leather handles of the chair, steadying herself as she grew a bit dizzy.

  It wouldn’t have been a problem if it weren’t for one person. One person with deep green eyes that left her heart pounding and her head a complete mess.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to meet this condition, Ms. Rawlings?”

  “What?” She blinked, focusing again on the printed will in front of her. It was all legal speak and seemed as foreign to her as if it had been written in German. “I, umm, yes. I’ve made plans to spend the month of July out here.”

  It was June 29th. She was only a couple of days early from starting the countdown of the month of hell. Not that she didn’t love Whidbey—who wouldn’t love the island? It was Ian. It had always been Ian…

  “Did your daughter join you on the island for the summer?”

  “No. Emily is spending the month with her grandmother in Florida.” She glanced back up and gave a forced smile. “Bonding time. You understand, I’m sure.”

  “I see.”

  Was that disappointment in the older man’s eyes? If so, it was hard to decipher as he quickly slipped his reading glasses back on.

  He continued touching on several points in the will that she needed to be aware of, but most of it she’d already grasped.

  By the time she left the office, copy of the will in hand, she was emotionally exhausted and ready for a nap. Or a glass of wine.

  Wine would have to wait until she made a trip to the store. Which was actually the next thing on her to-do list. The fridge was empty.

  She’d fallen asleep without dinner last night, and hadn’t even realized she hadn’t eaten until she’d woken up with a growling stomach.

  Grabbing her phone, she dialed her mother’s house. Emily answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Mom! Grandma said it was probably you.” Her daughter’s chipper voice coiled around Sarah’s heart, and her throat tightened as tears pricked at her eyes.

 

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