Touching Scars(7)

A small blonde came bounding up with short hair that was styled to stick out in different directions. She had to be the smallest adult I’d ever seen. Her facial features were cute and she just looked sweet. “Whatcha need, Beav?”

“Run into the back and let Kat know that her uncle is here, would ya?” the burly man said.

Melanie looked slightly bashful, but nodded her head and practically skipped away, disappearing into a long dark hallway. I turned my face back to Slim, raising my eyebrow at him in question. He must have caught on to my non-verbal question.

“Oh right. Nelson, this is Beaver.” He gestured from me to the other man.

I held my hand out. “It’s Timber, actually. Timber Nelson.”

His hand came out and his whole palm practically wrapped around my entire fist. He gave new meaning to large. I was already tall at six foot three. This mother fucker had to be at least six foot seven. He had a firm handshake. I got the impression he could easily break my hand with a slight squeeze.

“Beaver, huh. Should I even ask?”

Slim and Roger laughed, while Beaver smiled. Apparently I was in for a good story.

“When I was a kid, my grandpa worked with some dude’s that divvied nicknames. The one they gave him was Wolf. I have no idea how he got to be named it and he died before I got to ask him.” He paused and rubbed his hands together. “Anyway, I wanted to have a nickname just like he did. At the time I thought it would be cool to stick with the animal theme. I had just gone beaver hunting with my gramps when I figured I was cool enough to have a nickname so I went with Beaver. Turns out,” he gave a sly grin, “it’s a pretty fitting name if you know what I mean. Who would’ve known I’d be so good at eating it. Women come from several counties over to see what my skills are all about.”

Roger jumped in. “Man, I never got the full story behind the name. I had only assumed, you dirty bastard.” He clapped him on the back.

The sound of a towel slapping skin whipped through the air. Roger made a hissing sound which caused me to suddenly turn to see where it had come from.

“Don’t let Beaver fool you. That’s just a bunch of tall tales from a sad and lonely man.”

“Kat, you’ve never tried me out, so how would you know?” Beaver waggled his eyebrows at the girl.

“Watch it kid. That’s my niece you’re talkin’ about there.” Roger glowered.

This girl was Kat? I wasn’t sure exactly what I was expecting to come walking out, but this wasn’t it. Roger was a very businesslike man, always wearing suits, and somewhat proper. I think I anticipated someone in a decent length skirt, and turtleneck. Granted, we were in a bar, but like I said, the economy was bad and people were desperate. This girl was something entirely different. She had long dark hair that went past the middle of her back. It had hints of red, which I was certain would be more vibrant in the sunlight. My eyes roamed the length of her. She was curvy in all the right places. Her tits looked like more than a handful, and her ass was delectable. But what caught my eye were her intricate tattoos. She was wearing short jean shorts that displayed a skull candy tattoo with a floral pattern weaving in and out of the eyes. Her dark gray tank top allowed for viewing of two shoulder tattoos. One was of a koi fish that looked like it was swimming up her arm. The other side was another skull but with a different pattern.

Kat pointed at Beaver, interrupting my visual perusal. “Never gonna happen, big man.” She gave him a glorious unadulterated smile.

“Cut it out, you two, and Kat, don’t make me call your daddy,” Roger teased.

She rolled her eyes. “You’d never. Now come here.” She brought him in for a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, princess.”

“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” Slim pouted from the sidelines.

Kat pulled away and grabbed Slim by the collar and hugged him. “Chopped liver, yes, but I’ll always give you a hug as long as you keep having chocolates delivered to me.”

“Oh good, at least those assholes at the florist shop didn’t get the wrong address this time. I swear I had a dozen roses delivered to my second wife one time, and they ended up dropping them off in front of that old abandoned church. I had to call and yell at them. There’s a damn difference between First Avenue and First Street.” He sighed and held her face in his oil stained hands while she smiled brightly at him.

“So did she ever get her flowers?”

“As a matter of fact, she did. Found out later that she put them in the garbage disposal.”

Kat laughed, and it was a melodic sound. “Ouch. What’d you do?”