by Anna Lewis
“Are you lost?” the man asked, his eyes trailing up Lara’s slim figure. His voice was a low growl and Lara involuntarily trembled in the cool fall air. She really should have brought a coat.
Lara smiled, hoping that she looked the right amount of confident. “No, I’m good,” she answered, forcing a falsely sunny tone. “I’m just heading into town to meet a friend for dinner.”
The forest stayed silent as the man seemed to ponder this. He took a quick step toward Lara, then inhaled quickly, almost a sniff. “You’re meeting Killian, huh?” he asked, grin fading into a smirk.
“How did you know that?” Lara demanded.
“It’s a small town,” the man shrugged. “Everybody knows everybody’s business.”
“Guess I’d better get used to it.”
“Why? You staying long?” The black haired man’s smile was back. That was something else that reminded Lara of Killian: the sharpness of his smile.
She just shrugged. “Who knows? I’m a city girl, but it turns out city people suck, so… maybe I’ll give small town life a try for a while.”
“You should. But I warn you,” the man said. “Winter’s Lake is pretty damn small, even for a small town.
“I doubt it could be worse than LA,” Lara replied.
“Well, we’ll see about that, miss,” the man said. “I’m Russell, by the way. Russ, if you like.”
“Thanks, Russell,” Lara said, refusing to use the nickname. There was something about Russ that made her uncomfortable, something predatory. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to meet a friend for dinner.”
Much to Lara’s dismay, Russ wasn’t satisfied with simply allowing her walk alone into town. He immediately began strolling at her side, shortening his long steps to match her fast, short ones.
Lara walked in silence and Russ picked up her cue. They were nearly to the restaurant before either of them spoke again.
“Thanks for the escort,” Lara said, but Russ completely missed her sarcasm.
“Not a problem,” he replied, opening the door and gesturing gallantly inside.
Lara stepped through the door into the dimly lit restaurant. It was more of a rustic bar and grill than a proper restaurant. A long wooden bar lined one wall and a pool table—occupied by two bearded locals—stood in the corner under a dinged aluminum lamp. There was a series of wooden booths tucked along one wall and, in the last one, sat Killian. His face lit up when he saw Lara and he began to rise, but then his expression darkened.
Lara couldn’t begin to imagine what the problem was, until she glanced behind her and noticed that Russ had entered the bar behind her, looming too close to her to make them look like strangers.
“Hey!” she shouted at Killian, waving cheerfully and trying to turn his sour expression around.
She failed at this.
Killian only nodded his chin in her direction and then sank sadly back into the booth.
Lara wheeled around on Russ. “Could you leave us alone for a minute? Please?”
It would have been common courtesy to say yes, so Lara was shocked when Russ answered with a curt no and pushed past her to join Killian in his booth.
Killian didn’t say anything, just glowered up at Russ. Lara joined them, pushing into Killian’s side and scooting close to him, her face a near imitation of Killian’s glare.
Russ seemed unperturbed. “So,” he said. “What brings you to Winter’s Lake, Lara?”
“I was trying to get some peace and quiet,” she replied pointedly. “Any chance you could leave us alone so I can achieve that?”
Killian’s soft brown eyes widened and the smallest grin peeked out of the corner of his mouth. Lara instinctively reached under the table and squeezed his hand.
Russ didn’t pay any attention to Lara’s rudeness, he just set both elbows onto the scratched wooden surface of the table and leaned toward them, looming into Lara and Killian’s space. “You’re new here, Lara, so I’m going to lay things out for you: this is my town and I do what I want. If I want to have dinner with our newest guest and one of my oldest, dearest friends, then that’s what I’m going to do.”
Lara looked confused. “Friends?”
Killian’s miserable expression seemed to signify that they were anything but friends.
“Killian and I are like brothers, aren’t we, Killian?” Russ asked.
Killian smiled sourly. “I guess that’s a good way to put it. You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.”
This puzzled Lara. The two men were not related, they looked far too different for that. But there were some faint similarities: the sharp, toothy smiles; their enormous size; the graceful, prowling way that they both moved. They weren’t related, but maybe there was something in the water up there in Winter’s Lake that made for big, homegrown boys.
Russ wasn’t done. “Killian,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I was thinking that I’d like to get to know Lara here a little better. Why do you give us some time to ourselves?”
Lara laughed, expecting Killian to follow suit. But he just dropped his eyes to the table, nodded, and pushed past Lara to get out of their booth.
Right before he walked away, he turned back around and managed a low farewell to Lara. “Bye,” he muttered gruffly. “Sorry I wasn’t a better dinner companion. Have fun with Russ.”
It only took him a few long strides to cross the bar and reach the door, letting it slam behind him.
Russ watched Killian slink away, ice blue eyes gleaming in the low light of the bar. He leaned back, satisfied, against the wall of the booth and tucked his hands up behind his head. “Well,” he said. “Why don’t we have some fun?”
Lara snatched up her purse and bolted out of the booth, nearly spitting with rage. “I have a better idea, Russell,” she snarled. “How about you go fuck yourself?”
With that, she sprinted out of the bar after Killian.
* * *
The parking lot of the little restaurant was poorly lit and Lara wasn’t able to spot Killian’s rusty Jeep until he revved the engine to life and turned on his lights.
She waved her arms, shouting his name as she raced toward his car. “Killian!” Lara shouted. “Killian, wait!”
The Jeep screeched to a halt and Killian rolled down the passenger side window, peering out at her with disbelief.
“Lara?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused. “What are you doing out here?”
“I told Russ to go fuck himself,” she snapped, wrenching the passenger door of the Jeep open and hopping inside.
“You did what?” Killian’s mouth was a silent ‘O’ of shock. “You told Russ to—”
“Go fuck himself,” she finished, fastening her seatbelt and setting her purse primly on her lap.
“Oh my god, Lara,” Killian’s shock had faded into laughter and he was nearly shaking with delight. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to Russ. At least not to his face.”
That couldn’t be true. Russ was such an aggressive, presumptive asshole. There is no way that he hadn’t been told to fuck off dozens, if not hundreds of times. Lara said as much, but Killian just shook his head as he steered the jeep out of the parking lot.
“Russ pretty much just does what he wants around here,” Killian explained.
“And why does everyone let him?” Lara complained. “He’s not the king of the world. This is a small town, not a damn monarchy.”
“It might as well maybe,” Killian said. “It’s just the way Winter’s Lake works: some people are in charge and some people… aren’t.”
This made no sense to Lara. “Why don’t you stand up to him and be one of those people who are in charge?”
Killian just shook his head sadly, eyes intent on the road. Lara recognized this section of dirt highway. They were on the way back to her cabin.
“That’s not the way things work, Lara,” he said. “You can’t change who you are, you just can’t. I’m not a leader. Russ is. It’s just ho
w things are.”
“But—” Lara began.
Killian cut her off. “No. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Things between me and Russ are… complicated. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”
The last thing Lara wanted was to leave the conversation on that note, but Killian’s battered old Jeep had reached the driveway of her cabin. He slowed to a stop, yanked the parking brake, and turned toward her.
“If you need any help around here, I’d be happy to come by at any time,” he offered, soft brown eyes nearly black in the shadowed cab of the Jeep. His hand rested on the parking brake, twitching as if he wanted to reach for Lara, but couldn’t muster the courage.
She did it for him, setting her small manicured hand on top of his large, calloused one.
“I’m going to plant some flowers tomorrow,” she said, running her fingers lightly along the back of his hand. “Maybe you could come back by and give me a hand?”
He nodded, daring to smile. “I’ll be by late morning, I guess. Give you some time to sleep in. How about ten o’clock?”
“Bring coffee?”
“Coffee? At ten in the morning?” Killian laughed.
“Hey, don’t judge. I’m still a city girl, ten is early for me,” Lara replied.
“All right, all right, no judgment.” His eyes flicked up to her and he smiled, reaching his free hand up to stroke her cheekbone. “You have a… a thing. Stuck to your face.”
Lara reached up and, sure enough, a wayward strand of highlighted hair was stuck awkwardly to her face. She pushed it back behind her ear, then let her hand hover near Killian’s.
He was looking at her intently, hungrily. No one had looked at Lara like that for years, since she and Bret had started dating way back in college. Although she wasn’t sure that Bret ever looked at her the way Killian was now, with longing and hunger and a raw, animalistic desire, as if he wanted to devour her in one bite.
If Killian’s eyes spoke volumes, however, his actions said nothing. He remained frozen, hand lightly resting on her cheek, eyes boring into her and… did nothing.
Lara was about to say something, try and bridge the impasse at which they’d arrived, but before she could find the words, Killian shuddered violently and snatched his hand away from her face. He glanced out toward the dark woods once, then dropped his gaze to his lap. Lara let her glance follow his. The trees were thick with darkness and she could barely make out the shapes of the trunks and branches in the low moonlight.
The moon was rising—nearly full, but not quite there yet—but wasn’t high enough in the sky to cast much light.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a dark shape, almost dog-like, crouched menacingly under one of the larger trees where the woods met her dirt yard.
“Did you see—” she began to ask Killian, but he stopped her.
“No.”
How had he known what she was going to ask? It was obviously a lie, a diversion.
Lara looked back into the woods and the shape was gone.
“Good night, Lara,” Killian said softly.
“Will you still come by tomorrow?” she asked, hopeful. His attitude toward her had flipped so quickly, she hoped that she could manage to flip it back.
“I will,” he nodded, still not looking at her, but the tone of his voice was reassuring. “And I’ll bring coffee.”
She slid out of the jeep and slammed the door behind her, trotting up the dark path toward her front porch. She was fishing in her purse for keys when Killian’s voice rang out again.
“Lara?” he shouted across the driveway. “Keep your doors and windows locked for the next few nights, okay? And don’t go out into the woods after dark alone.”
She looked back toward the jeep, hoping to catch his expression to see if he was joking, but the face that peered back at her from the shadows was deadly serious.
“I will,” she promised, feeling very solemn in the moment.
Killian waved and backed down the driveway, headlights cutting through the dark woods that lined Lara’s cabin.
From the depths of the shadowy trees, a park of gold eyes glared out her.
* * *
Lara awoke to a loud knocking on the front door of the cabin. She threw one arm over her face and frowned. It was far too early to begin the day. Who would have the gall to be bothering her at this hour?
She bolted upright at the realization. Killian!
Lara tossed on a bathrobe and bolted for the door. She wished she had more time to make herself presentable, but she didn’t want Killian to give up and leave. She could show him in, let him hang out in her living room and drink coffee while she quickly showered.
And if, for some reason, he wanted to join her in the shower, she’d absolutely be okay with that.
Wait, what? She thought. What was wrong with her? She’d been broken up (well, maybe broken up) with Bret for a few measly days and she was already fantasizing about jumping into a hot shower with her property manager?
True, he was an insanely hot, finely toned specimen of a property manager, but still. It seemed a bit fast to be actively fantasizing about other men.
Maybe her relationship with Bret wasn’t as strong as she always thought.
Lara padded across the bare wood floor. If something happened between her and Killian, then so be it. She was a single woman (well, probably single) and could do what she wanted. Lara ran one hand through her hair, hoping to calm her messy blonde bedhead and threw open the door, lips pursed in what she hoped was a seductive smile, but it wasn’t Killian knocking on her door.
Russ stood on her front porch.
“Oh, shit,” Lara yelped, slamming the door in his surprised face.
“Lara?” Russ called, hammering on the door with his thick fist. “Lara? Please let me explain…”
“I’ll be there in a second!” Lara shouted back, frantically racing back to the bedroom to pull on pants and sweatshirt. The flimsy robe was fine for Killian, but was absolutely not okay for Russ.
When she pulled the door open again, she was demurely covered by sweatpants, a fully zipped hoodie and a pair of Ugg boots. Russ was still frozen on the porch, gaping at the door and clutching a large bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.
Lara cocked one eyebrow and tried to look nonchalant. “Can I help you?” she asked coolly.
“I want to apologize,” Russ said, thrusting the flowers awkwardly in her direction. Lara crossed her arms across her chest.
“For?” she asked.
Russ sighed and scratched the back of his head. He said nothing.
“Russell,” Lara snapped. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”
“Just take the flowers,” he muttered, glaring at her with those disarming ice blue eyes.
Lara met his glare. “I will take the flowers and accept your apology when you can tell me exactly what you are apologizing for.”
Russ sighed, then dropped his gaze to his feet. “I’m sorry for being a dick last night. I was overbearing and I didn’t mean to be. I apologize if I crossed a line and made you feel uncomfortable.”
That was it?
“And?” Lara asked.
“And?!” Russ looked up at her, shocked. “What else is there?”
“Killian!” Lara continued. “You were terrible to Killian last night.”
Russ crossed his arms across his massive chest, flowers still clutched in one hand. “I’m not apologizing for hurting Killian’s widdle feelings,” he mocked, looking like the world’s largest, most petulant toddler.
“Russell, you bullied him, ruined our dinner date and then ran him off. You owe him an apology.”
Russ sighed, a deep, unhappy groan. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “I’m sorry for my behavior toward Killian, too.”
“Thank you,” Lara responded, finally accepting the flowers. “Come on in, I need to put these in some water.”
Russ trailed obediently behind her, like a well-trained mutt.
“I like y
our cabin,” he observed, politely. He was clearly trying to be on his best behavior.
“Thank you, Russell,” Lara replied as she searched through a low cupboard for a vase.
“You can call me Russ, you know,” he responded.
“I know, Russell.”
There were no vases in any of the bottom cupboards, so Lara switched her search to the upper cupboards. There, on the tip top shelf was an old green glass vase. She had the vaguest memories of her mother filling it with sunflowers. Lara tried to get it down— reached, stretched, stood on her tiptoes—but she couldn’t manage to grab the vase.
A low rumble sounded behind her and she peered over to see Russ stifling a chuckle.
“Is this entertaining, Russell? Watching a tiny lady desperately trying to reach a top shelf?”
“Actually, it is,” Russ responded. “But only for so long. Here, let me help.” He strode toward her and Lara expected him to push past her and grab the vase himself. Instead, he plucked her up, as if she weighed nothing, and hoisted her up to the top shelf.
Lara froze for a moment, dangling off the ground and staring at the highest shelf in the kitchen, before she gathered her wits and grabbed the green vase.
“Got it,” she told Russ and he lowered her down, not to the ground as she was expecting, but instead setting her so she was sitting on the countertop, knees spread.
He gently plucked the vase out of her hand and set it down next to her.
“Say thank you,” he instructed, leaning so close to her that Lara could feel his warm breath ghost across her face.
“Thank you,” she whispered, too shocked to rely on her usual sass.
Russ leaned in closer, and she was too aware of his deep, steady breathing; the way his dark pupils filled his icy eyes; the black spread of stubble that already covered his sculpted chin, even so early in the day.
Involuntarily, Lara leaned in, surrendering to his intention.
The front door of the cabin banged open and Killian backed in, hands full with two steaming cardboard cups of coffee. “Lara? Good morning, I brought—”
Killian froze at the sight of Russ pressing Lara against the kitchen counter. By some small miracle, he managed to set the coffee cups on the arm of a chair before starting to slink uncomfortably out the door.