by Isla Olsen
After exchanging a helpless glance, Zack and I pry ourselves away from each other. I take a moment to straighten myself up before stepping out from around the partition.
“Hello, there,” I say, waving at the couple, who appear to be around sixty or so.
The woman beams at me, while the man looks away awkwardly; I have the impression he’s not quite as oblivious as his wife in regards to what I was doing behind the partition just now. “Oh, hello!” she says brightly. “Can you help us out? We’d like to have a look inside. Your website says this is a must-see place in town.”
“Well, that’s true,” I say, giving a polite nod. “But unfortunately, as you can see, it’s not open right now. The blacksmith’s is only open to the public until midday each day.”
The woman’s face crumples. “Couldn’t you make an exception? Today’s our last day in town.”
I cringe at her words, knowing there’s no way I could let them into the site without breaking a window or something. And Tansie would kill me if I attempted that. I shake my head apologetically, deciding to just go with the truth. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s actually my sister who runs this site, and she’s off giving tours of the town right now. I don’t have the means to let you in.”
“Oh, what a shame…”
“Okay, come on, Maeve,” her companion—Bob, I’m pretty sure she called him—says in a weary tone. “We’ll just have to leave it. Why don’t we go back to that little boutique you liked?”
“Well, wait a moment. Maybe the lad can tell us something about the history of this place?” She turns back to me with hopeful eyes and I feel an impulse to help in some way, even though I’m completely underequipped to do so.
“Sure…” They both seem delighted, and I immediately regret the impulse as I cast about in my mind for the limited information I know about this place. “Well, this is the original blacksmith’s from when the town was first established during the gold rush.” That much I do know. Maeve and Bob nod in interest, encouraging me to continue. “Um…it’s where all the locals’ tools were made back then, and right into the twentieth century until mass machinery took over.” I scan my eyes around the site as I try desperately to recall all the other pieces of history that have been forced on me over the years, but my patience for all those old stories was always pretty much nonexistent and it seems I’ve managed to push them all out of my brain. “Um…there was a murder. Right here,” I blurt out, pointing to a random spot right near the entrance to the blacksmith’s. I have no idea if that’s true, but it sounds exciting and definitely plausible.
Bob and Maeve’s eyes widen simultaneously. “A murder?” Maeve gasps. “What happened?”
I nod, spurred on by their enthusiasm. “It was tragic, really. A young woman was bludgeoned to death with the blacksmith’s tongs back in 1889.”
Maeve puts a hand to her mouth. “How awful! Why was she killed?”
I shrug. “No one knows why for sure. But there’s a theory that her husband—the blacksmith, himself—didn’t want her running off to join the circus.”
Next to me, and out of sight of the tourists, I can see Zack shaking with silent laughter. It’s taking everything I have to keep my expression somber and regretful right now.
“The circus?” Maeve exclaims.
I nod. “That’s what they say. Apparently her husband didn’t want her to leave him alone with their five kids. Which, when you think about it, makes killing her a completely idiotic move.”
Bob shakes his head in dismay. “Well, they weren’t too bright back then, were they?”
I fold my arms over my chest, feeling mildly satisfied with myself. “No, they sure weren’t.”
After Bob and Maeve bid goodbye and wander off, presumably to visit Livia’s boutique, I step back behind the partition, wasting no time in getting my hands back on Zack’s body.
“So…blowjob?”
“Maybe we could move away from the murder scene?” Zack suggests with a teasing quirk of his lips.
I let out a soft chuckle and grab his hand. “Come on. My place.”
13
From the private Facebook group ‘Finchley Locals Community Hangout’
* * *
Post by Missy Clarke: I saw Zack and Slater walking down main street ARM IN ARM yesterday! And today Zack’s rental car was parked outside Slater and Chance’s house for quite a long time. I think this could be it. Zater is back on!!!
Chance Kingsley reply to Missy Clarke’s post: How do you know about the rental car? Have you been staking out our house??
Missy Clarke reply to Chance Kingsley’s comment: Of course not. Your house happens to be on my daily walking route
Gunner Clarke reply to Missy Clarke’s post: Mom, you’re getting way too excited about this. It’s embarrassing. More embarrassing than usual I mean *eye roll emoji*
Missy Clarke reply to Gunner Clarke’s comment: What? When do I embarrass you?
Gunner Clarke reply to Missy Clarke’s comment: Please don’t make me get out the list
Candace Goode reply to Missy Clarke’s post: ‘Zater’? Was that a thing?
Rock Goode reply to Missy Clarke’s post: When did this group become Gossip Girl?
Jesse Cartwright reply to Rock Goode’s comment: Where the hell have you been, man? The gossip’s the only reason I’m here
* * *
Zack
* * *
“So…?” Jesse asks, fixing me with an expectant look.
I shake my head in feigned ignorance. “So, what?”
Jesse just lets out an annoyed grunt and slumps back against the booth seat across from me. Next to him, Lawson lets out a soft chuckle.
“So…what’s going on with Slater? That’s what I think he’s trying to ask,” Lawson supplies.
I give a one-shouldered shrug and concentrate on dipping a fry into my salt and pepper dip. “Nothing’s going on. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
Jesse lets out a disbelieving snort. “That’d be a lot more convincing if your neck wasn’t covered in hickeys.”
My hand immediately flies to cover my neck as my mind flashes back to this afternoon and Slater sucking and biting at my skin as he pounded inside me. Damn Slater and his stupid awesome lips…
I stare across at Lawson and Jesse, both of them wearing expressions of amused expectation and looking as though they could sit there all night waiting for me to ‘fess up. Finally, I snap. “Okay, fine! We’re fucking, okay?” I cry, throwing my hands in the air.
And, of course, because it’s me and I’ve always been known for my expert timing, that pronouncement comes right as there’s a lull in the conversations around us. My face flames as what feels like every single person in the saloon turns their gaze my way.
Across the room, Slater is hanging at the bar with George, Axel, and Chance. He catches my eye and offers an incredibly self-satisfied smirk that makes me want to hurl one of Lawson’s pickles at him. Instead, I just sink down in my booth and stare at my mostly-empty plate, attempting to avoid eye contact with everyone around me.
“I always thought it’d only be a matter of time before you guys figured your shit out,” Jesse comments.
I lift my gaze to glare at my brother. “We haven’t figured anything out. It’s just sex.”
Jesse shrugs in a way that tells me he’s not remotely convinced by that statement.
My glare intensifies. “Shouldn’t you be getting all overprotective and warning me away from him right now?”
Jesse takes a sip of his soda, his features creased in confusion. “Why?”
I let out an aggravated sigh. “Because you’re my big brother. You’re supposed to do stuff like that. Warn me away from the guy who broke my heart et cetera, et cetera…”
Jesse just waves away my comment. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you’re over all that by now.”
That prompts Lawson to let out a loud snort of laughter, which he unsuccessfully tries to hide by taking a quick sip
of his drink.
Jesse’s gaze flicks to my best friend, before turning back to me, his mouth hanging open in incredulity. “You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s been twelve years, Zack. You were kids. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”
I sit up and lean forward over the table, pinning my brother with a hard look. “I have two words for you: Webster Goode.”
“That’s a completely different situation,” Jesse snaps in a voice so scathing it prompts me to rear back in my seat. I start to open my mouth to ask for about the billionth time what the fuck happened between those two back in high school, but then Jesse starts talking again. “Besides, did it ever enter your mind that maybe Slater made the right call all those years ago?”
I stare at my brother, completely numb with a mix of shock and betrayal. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Jesse lets out a heavy sigh. “Come on, Zack. You were eighteen. Do you honestly think you could have done long distance for four years? “
“I—” My mouth opens and closes as I struggle to form the words running through my head. We would have made it work. We could have done it. If we’d just had the chance…
“And don’t forget you were the one who chose to go to Chicago for school,” Jesse points out. “You could have gone to Davis, or even Berkley would have been closer…”
“Wow. Great to know you’re on my side,” I mutter, scowling down at my plate.
“Fucking hell, it’s not about sides,” Jesse growls. “I just don’t want to see you throw away something that could be really great because you’re too stubborn to let go of this grudge.”
I feel my hackles rising; I can barely even look at Jesse as my entire body thrums with a burning tension I don’t know what to do with. I scan my eyes about the room again and find that everyone has well and truly returned to their dinners and conversation, and at the bar Slater and the others have now been joined by Tansie and Web.
With a sigh, I slide out of the booth and get to my feet. Leaning over the table, I say to Jesse, “I don’t know what the hell happened between you and Web, but you’re the last person who gets to lecture me about hanging onto grudges.” I straighten up and toss some cash down for my meal before adding, “Besides, I already told you it’s just sex. You need to stop reading all that crap in the Facebook group.”
Before he has a chance to respond, I turn and weave my way around the tables, heading for the street.
* * *
Slater
* * *
“Seriously, could you be more obvious?” George asks with a smirk as he pulls a beer from the tap, sliding it across the bar in Axel’s direction.
“I’m sure he probably could be,” Chance says with a loud chuckle and a slap on my back. “He could jump up on one of the tables and sing a Katy Perry song like he did when he invited Zack to prom.”
“It was Taylor Swift, straight boy,” I correct.
“Potato, potahto,” Chance says with a wave of his hand. “It was all pretty Glee, whatever it was.”
“That happened before Glee started,” George points out.
Chance arches an eyebrow at my cousin. “The fact you know when Glee started is a little concerning, man.”
“What’s concerning about that?” George asks, his expression one of faux-obliviousness. “I think you should be concerned that you find it concerning.”
“Can we please stop talking about Glee,” Axel grumbles, taking a sip of his beer.
“Yeah, let’s talk about how Slater can’t keep his eyes off Zack,” Chance practically shouts before staring as unsubtlety as humanly possible at the booth where Zack’s currently eating dinner with his brother and Lawson.
“Please, say it louder, I beg of you,” I mutter.
“Well, if you’re going to sit there stinking up my saloon with all your pheromones you could at least give us some details,” George says after returning from serving another customer.
I let out a wry breath of laughter. “Yeah, that won’t be happening.”
“Why not? I always share details about my love interests. The least you could do is reciprocate.”
My brows shoot up at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement. “Okay, firstly, you don’t have love interests, you have sexual conquests. And, secondly, you don’t share details, you inflict them. No matter how many times we tell you we don’t want to hear about Stacey and the thing with the maple syrup, or Kelly Anne and the weird doll three-way, or—”
“Chloe and the vibrator that got stuck,” Axel says, practically taking the words from my mouth.
“Or—”
I shake my head, cutting Chance off before he can add to the list of George’s sexual adventures. “Don’t you start, you’re just as bad.”
Chance’s mouth falls open in horror. “I’ve never had a doll three-way in my life!”
“Dude, you haven’t lived,” George says with a grin, before peeling away from the bar to serve a customer at the other end.
I take a sip of my beer and sneak another glance across the saloon at Zack, my chest tightening as I catch sight of him grinning at something Jesse’s saying. Jesus, he has such an incredible smile…
To be honest, the main reason I don’t want to go into detail about what’s happening between Zack and me—apart from the whole it not being anyone else’s business thing—is because I still have no idea where we stand.
It’s been two days since we decided to have some no-strings-attached fun while Zack’s in town, and, trust me, that’s been great. Really, really great. It’s not exactly what I want, though. I want strings—all the strings. But Zack’s leaving on Thursday and, as far as I know, his mind hasn’t budged at all.
George returns to our little group and pulls a new beer for me, replacing the one I’ve just finished.
As he slides it across the bar, from the other side of the room I hear Zack practically shout, “Okay, fine! We’re fucking, okay?”
It seems as though every single person in the saloon turns their attention first to Zack, and then straight to me. Including the guys I’m hanging with.
“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Ax says with a gruff chuckle.
George shrugs. “You never know. He could be talking about someone else…”
“I doubt it,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face. The amount of hours Zack and I have spent in bed, or against the wall, or in the tray of my truck, or—well, you get the picture—over the past couple days, I can’t see him finding either the time or energy to be with someone else. And, hell, call me cocky but I can’t see him wanting to—I know how to keep a guy satisfied.
It’s not long after Web’s arrived that I return from the bathroom to find Zack is no longer at his table.
“He left,” George tells me before I’ve even opened my mouth to ask the question. “Just a few moments ago. He looked in kind of a mood.”
Barely pausing to bid goodbye to my brother and cousins, I make my way out of the saloon in search of Zack.
I find him just outside, kicking at the pavement in a gesture I find endearingly familiar.
“Hey.”
Clearly startled, he spins around to face me, eyes wide with surprise. “Hey.”
“You want to go somewhere?” I ask.
He arches an eyebrow. “Is the place your bed?”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Tempting, but I was actually thinking of somewhere else.”
Zack considers the offer for a moment before shrugging a shoulder and gesturing for me to lead the way.
My truck is parked just a little way down Main Street from the saloon; when I lead us there, I’m half-expecting Zack to protest or ask questions about where we’re going that we need to drive. But he doesn’t, he just hops in the passenger seat and starts fiddling with the radio controls. I’m hit with a blast of memory from all the times he used to ride shotgun in my car when we were kids, and it takes me a moment to shake it off.
It’s not until we’re halfw
ay to our destination that Zack says, “This is the way to the lake…”
I nod. “Yep
Technically, Dewer Lake is more of a stream, as it’s not landlocked and is actually connected to the American River, but the part we go to is enclosed by an ancient rock formation that slows the current to the point where it’s basically non-existent. It’s an incredibly beautiful place, and is perfect on late summer afternoons when the water’s been warmed through the day.
Even though it’s after seven right now, there’s still a good couple hours of light left in the day, and the best thing about going at this time of night is that there shouldn’t be anyone else there. Which is a good thing considering I don’t have a swimsuit and I’m pretty sure Zack doesn’t either.
When we get to the lake, I do a quick check to make sure we are, in fact, alone, and then I scramble out of my clothes, folding them haphazardly and setting them on a rock. Zack’s more careful about how he folds his, but nevertheless, after a minute or so we’re both climbing carefully over the smooth boulders that encircle the swimming hole before diving into the tepid water.
“God, I forgot how amazing this place is,” Zack says, his eyes alight with wonder as he gazes at the surroundings. “I haven’t been here for forever.”
“That can happen when you only come home, like, twice in a decade,” I tease.
For a second I think maybe I’ve gone too far with the guilt, but then he just smirks and throws his hands down into the water, sending a wave in my direction and completely soaking me. With an elated cackle, he swims off out of reach.
“Oh, you are so going to pay!” I call out, chasing after him.
I catch up to him, flinging my arms around his waist and tackling him into the water. We wrestle for a bit and come up laughing like absolute crazy people.
“I love the sound of your laugh,” I tell him, tickling him some more and watching him giggle and squirm.