“Ow.”
“Still alive,” he said.
I retaliated by pinching one of his nipples.
“Damn it, woman.” He grabbed my hand, holding it captive in his. “Enough. I surrender. Let’s be friends.”
I don’t know how long we stayed like that, glued together. Neither of us seemed inclined to move. After a while, I may have even fallen asleep. The man was just comfortable, plus I was exhausted. Ever so gently, my hair was brushed back from my face. A finger traced the sensitive rim of my ear.
“Complicated,” said the man.
Had I been more awake, I’d have agreed.
* * *
The next day, Joe was back to work at Dive Bar. I was again positioned at a corner table, working on my laptop. Yes, I could have worked in the quiet of my hotel room. Strangely enough, it turned out that people watching actually got my mind going—my creativity rocking and rolling. I kind of liked just being on the edge of things, watching. I never realized that I didn’t have to be sucked into the thick of things, surrounded by people and constantly dealing with the frenzy of the big wide world. The fringes were fine too. And so was watching my mountain man hottie (not that he was my hottie), and occasionally chatting with Nell or Rosie. It was nice.
Everything had been quiet until Eric arrived just after the lunch rush.
“Come see,” he called out from the front door. Smile wide, practically buzzing with excitement.
“What?” Joe paused mid-motion, a couple of beers in his hand for restocking the fridge.
“Everyone!” he yelled.
Eric disappeared back outside while we gave each other confused looks. Out of the kitchen lumbered Boyd, one of the cooks, along with Nell. Rosie and Taka were the waitstaff on duty. With a shrug and a frown, they headed out the door too.
I hunched down in my sweater, shoving my hands into my back jeans pockets to keep warm. A cold wind was throwing autumn leaves around, the sky a clear blue. And parked at the curb was a shiny red muscle car with white racing stripes.
“Two thousand eight Shelby GT500,” said Eric proudly. “And I got it for a song, only twenty-five grand. Owner had just died and apparently his wife hated him.”
With a nod, Boyd turned and wandered back inside. Guess cars weren’t his thing. I kept quiet and stayed back. Cars weren’t really my thing either.
“Didn’t you already have a reasonably new working vehicle?” asked Rosie, arms crossed.
“It’s a guy thing, you wouldn’t understand.” Taka bent to check out the inside through the open passenger-side door. “Nice. Very nice.”
“Take you for a drive sometime,” said Eric.
“You better.” Taka followed the unimpressed Rosie back inside.
Still beaming, Eric turned to Nell and Joe. “Well? Isn’t it beautiful?”
Nell blew out a breath. “Yes, it is. And it only has two doors. That’s going to work out great for transporting a baby.”
Eric frowned. “I figured you’d just be using your car for the kid.”
Nell said nothing. But you could almost see the haze of storm clouds gathering around her head, the frustration and anger wound up in her balled hands—clearly she was experiencing way more stress than was good for a pregnant person. She too went back inside.
“What the hell?” Eric muttered, hands on hips, scowling after her.
Joe just hung his head.
“Seriously? You too?”
“Fuck me.” Joe licked his lips, shook his head. “Ever wonder why I don’t worry about you repaying the money you owe me? Remember the loan you hit me up for when you wanted to buy into Dive Bar?”
Mouth shut, Eric stared at his brother.
“Because the business was still getting going. Then, when things got out of the red—surprise!” Joe held his arms wide, a vein bulging out of his neck. “You knocked up Nell. You’re going to be a father. I figured you need the money, that you’d be helping out Nell with stuff for the baby. You know? Not buying a fucking muscle car.”
Eric’s lips looked dangerously thin.
“When the hell are you going to grow up and start thinking about your responsibilities, huh?” asked Joe, voice harsh. “Good work, brother. Solid effort.”
Joe marched back into the bar, leaving me standing there. I ever so subtly side-stepped closer to the door. Really, I should have taken the opportunity to run back when Boyd did. The guy might not say much, but he was smart. Yet, I couldn’t help but be impressed by Joe’s hard stance. Sure as shit, his pleasing days were done.
Jaw set, Eric slammed the car door shut. “What about you, Alex. You going to give me shit too?”
“No,” I said, keeping my face blank. This situation had nothing to do with me and I was happy to keep it that way.
“He’s been different since you arrived.”
Lips. Shut. Tight.
The man then mumbled expletives all the way around to the driver’s side, tearing open the door before throwing himself inside. A toddler couldn’t have thrown a better tantrum. Engine growling, he roared off down the street. Sending more leaves into the air than the wind.
Wow. Conflict sucked. Just being around it made my pulse manic.
Back inside, Joe was standing behind the bar, staring at the ground. Not happy.
“Hey,” I said, standing on a stool’s rung, rising high enough to lean part of the way across the bar.
“Hey.” He took my offered hand, letting me draw him in nice and close. Then I kissed him. It wasn’t a polite peck on the cheek. Hell no. I pressed my lips against his and gave him the kind of kiss best reserved for lovers in private.
Behind us, someone wolf whistled. Another person clapped.
When I finally pulled away, his eyes had calmed, and the beginnings of a smile curved his mouth. Much better.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Anytime.”
* * *
“Your brother is quickly working his way up the ranks toward being an all-time legendary douchebag.” Nell slung a handbag over her shoulder, lips tight and eyes as fiery as her hair. “He was supposed to come pick me up at closing. Would you mind giving me a lift back to your place?”
“Not a problem.” Joe forced a smile.
“He’s probably off somewhere masturbating over his new car.”
Joe grunted.
I said nothing. It was a disturbing visual, and possibly even true.
It was late, the streets empty. Above us, the stars were spread out across the sky in all their glory. Such a beautiful cold pristine night. Even the wind had calmed down some.
“Sorry, there’s probably some crap on the backseat,” said Joe, unlocking the truck.
“No worries. I’ll deal with it,” I volunteered. Fair was fair, the pregnant lady could have the comfy seat up front.
Indeed, there was a variety of paperwork, a set of pliers and some other tools, an empty soda can, a denim jacket, and a baseball cap. I shoved it all over to one side and climbed in while Nell got settled in the passenger seat.
My jaw cracked wide on a yawn at the same time as Joe’s. He turned and gave me a wink. I couldn’t help but grin back, my partner in tiredness. All of the sexing activities had been eating into our sleep time. Not that I minded one little bit. I’d take shadows under my eyes and a wee bit of morning grumpiness. After all, that’s why God invented concealer and caffeine.
The clock had started counting down the time I had left in Coeur d’Alene. Decisions would eventually have to be made about our situation. We could date from afar, take turns visiting. I don’t know. While it seemed a likely and even positive option, it filled my heart with dread. Even in this age of technology, long-distance relationships were hard. Unlikely to succeed.
The engine rumbled to life, wonderful hot air rushing out of the vents. As usual at this time of night, most of the houses lay quiet in the dark. We drove under the streetlights as some old Springsteen tune played on the radio. I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, to have naked time with Joe. To get as close to him as physically possible and forget all about how I’d have to leave him soon.
We’d only gone a couple of blocks when Joe slowed to a roll for a stop sign. After a brief pause, we were off again. From out of nowhere, an SUV smashed into the side of Joe’s truck, wrenching us headlong sideways through the intersection. There’d been no headlights to warn us. Nothing. Metal screamed, my head bouncing off the hard glass of the window. Everything went black.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Message sent ten days ago:
ME: Hi Eric, I haven’t heard from you for a couple of days. So I’m assuming you’re crazy busy with the bar and your family and friends. I hope everything is going okay. Talk to you soon. Best, A xx
Message sent one week ago:
ME: Eric, I’m worried about you. Probably silly of me, but would you mind just dropping me a line so I know you’re okay? It’s just been a while. Hey, isn’t your birthday next week? Thanks.
Hospitals still made me want to puke, that hadn’t changed. Endless white corridors and the scent of bleach and disinfectant. Nurses and doctors rushing around, so many voices. Somewhere a child was wailing.
I sat in the hospital waiting room next to Rosie and Boyd. Eric and his parents sat opposite. Everyone looked worn and pale, apart from those with red eyes. Despite the cast on his left arm, Joe insisted on pacing. The fracture was a couple of inches up from the wrist. The doctor said he was lucky that the damage to his arm wasn’t much worse. I’d had my right eyebrow glued back together. Otherwise there were some bruises, a few aches and pains, but nothing major. The doctor said I was also lucky. The idiot in the other car who’d been driving with no headlights on had barely had a scratch on him. Of course, he hadn’t been rammed in the side by a massive bull bar.