OLAF RETURNS FROM his “reunion” all refreshed, aka full of piss and vinegar. Thursday finds the regular gang playing pool around the table while Olaf grumbles behind the counter.
He mutters something about a fool and his money as he walks into the back room.
I’m still riled up after Choochokum last weekend. Been stewing on it all week. So, when I see Tom laughing about something, my fuse runs out.
“Donnely,” I shout at his stupid blond head across the room.
His shoulders bunch at the sharp tone in my voice. Good. I’m pissed and the sooner he realizes it, the better. For me. I don’t care about him.
When he turns around, he gives me a lazy smile. “Hey, Carter.”
I punch him in the jaw and watch as his stupid cocky grin turns into a grimace.
I’ve really only ever fought with Erik. While we pretend to want to kick the shit out of each other, at least when we were younger, we don’t hit full out. Not like I just did to Tom.
Fuck.
My hand hurts. I shake out my fingers, feeling the pain radiating out from my knuckles.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tom shoves me, and I take another swing at him.
Before my fist can make contact, he pulls me into a headlock with my back to his chest.
“Settle down or I’m going to hurt you.” The cocky asshole has the nerve to be amused.
I grit my teeth. “I’d like to see you try. We can take this outside so I don’t embarrass you by kicking your ass in front of all our friends.”
I both feel and hear his laughter behind me. His amusement at my expense shakes his chest.
“Fuck you, Tom. Fuck you and your cocky bullshit.” I twist out of his hold, which has loosened with his damn chuckling.
“My BS? You walked in here like an old western movie, both guns loaded and aimed at me. What the fuck did I do to you?” Now he’s taking me more seriously.
“Not me.”
“I swear I didn’t steal one of your goats. Wasn’t me.” He releases me and picks up his beer like I’m not in the middle of kicking his ass.
“I’m here to defend Ashley’s honor,” I declare.
Tom executes a classic spit-take of freshly sipped beer. Right in my face.
I’m not sure it’s on purpose, but I lunge at him anyway.
“Whoa, whoa.” He holds up his hands, palms out to keep me at bay. “Total accident. A result from shock. You’re joking, right?”
“I’m as serious as a red tide.”
He wipes off his beard with the back of his hand. “Since when are you some sort of knight in shining armor? Did you ride here on a noble steed?”
“I’m not kidding.” I wipe off my face on my sleeve.
“That much is obvious from your fist making contact with my jaw.” He rubs his cheek where a red mark blooms on his skin.
“I’m sick of people thinking she’s some sort of slut because of you.”
“Whoa.” He holds up his hands like I might punch him again. Smart of him because I’m seriously thinking about it. “What two consenting adults do together is none of yours, or anyone else’s business.”
“It is if the woman in question ends up with a bad reputation and gets slut shamed by the entire island while you skip away untarnished. Hell, guys looked up to you and your whoring ways.”
“I believe whores are paid for sex. I’ve never been paid.” He calmly and smugly sips from his pint glass.
“Neither has Ashley.”
“What’s got your short hairs all knotted up?” Tom studies me over the rim of his beer for a long minute. “Why do you give such a shit?”
I refuse to blink and continue to stare him down.
“Oh, shit. You’re in love with her.”
My first instinct is to deny it. Like I have my entire life. “No, I’m not. I’m just tired of the double-standard around here.”
“Bullshit.” He sets down the glass on the table. “This isn’t about honor or reputation. You’re mad she followed me around for years like a happy puppy. A well-satisfied, happy puppy.”
“Did you just compare Ashley to a dog?” My anger flashes like a match. I can feel it burn from my chest up my neck to my face.
Tom wisely takes a few steps away as I advance.
“Puppies are cute. Everyone loves a puppy.” He braces his hands on my chest and gives me a shove. “Did she ask you to come here and kick my ass?”
“No.” Shit. If Ashley knew, she’d be pissed.
“Should I ask her myself?” He points behind me at the door.
Well, now I’m fucked and not in the good way.
I sneak a glance over my shoulder and spot Ashley making her way over to us. Her curls are loose and frame her face—her very angry, beautiful face.
“Shit,” I mumble mostly to myself.
Tom studies my face. “You’re so screwed.”
Ashley steps between us but doesn’t speak. Instead, her attention flicks between Tom and me a couple of times.
“Hi.” I manage to form a smile but I’m pretty sure she can feel the tension between me and Donnely. The air snaps with testosterone and anger.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice is nothing but suspicion.
“Talking with Tom. Right?” I give him a pleading look.
The asshole rubs his cheek, calling attention to the mark left there by my fist not five minutes ago. “Carter has a funny way of using his hands. Not sure sign language is a full contact sport.”
Next to me I can feel Ashley tense. She even stops breathing for a few seconds. Ten if I was guessing. Like she’s counting and trying to rein in her temper.
“You punched him. I told you to leave the whole thing alone. Instead you come down here and punch Tom. I can’t believe you.” She keeps her voice low but the amount of anger in her words makes it feel like she’s screaming.
“I—”
She cuts me off with a raised hand. “Shut up. Just stop. Tom, I’m sorry for whatever Carter said or did.”
“No need to apologize. He said he was defending your honor.” He’s got the balls enough to give her a slow, lazy grin. Like he’s never heard anything funnier.
We say “Shut up,” and “fuck you,” at the same time.
At least we’re on the same side. I take a moment to check out Ashley. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is wild as if she’s full of energy and the only escape is through her curls. Her chest rapidly rises and falls with each breath, drawing my eyes to the round top of her breasts exposed by the deep scoop of her shirt.
“Quit staring at my boobs, Carter.” With a tug of the fabric, she blocks my view. “You’re no better than him. Or any guy. You’re going to defend my honor while ogling me?”
One hundred percent busted.
She’s right. I’m no better than him or any other pervert.
With one key exception.
Tom’s right.
I am in love with her.
“Everything okay here?” John joins our standoff.
“Fine,” we all say.
“Doesn’t look fine. First, Carter comes in here and punches Tom. Now you guys are having a three-way fight in the corner.”
“Do you really have to use the term three-way?” I arch an eyebrow at him.
“No offense meant.” He nods at Ashley.
I’m expecting sarcasm or judgment in his expression, but see nothing but concern and apology.
“You know Olaf will blow a valve over you two fighting in here.” He’s giving me and Tom pointed looks.
“I offered to take it outside,” I say in defense.
“Seriously?” Ashley’s voice goes from normal to screeching teenage girl at a pop concert. “For what? Pistols at dawn? Dick measuring contest?”
I’m not anticipating the shove she gives to my chest or the force behind it. She almost knocks me on my ass.
“No one is taking off their pants.” Tom’s laughing now. “Trust me on that one. I like being married and I like my dick being attached to my body.”
John shakes his head.
“Speaking of being married . . .” I don’t complete my sentence, hoping Tom will walk away from this conversation without saying anything more.
“What? Is Hailey here?” He spins around to check the room for his pregnant wife.
“Afraid to be seen with me?” A huff of disappointment and a lifetime of hurt feelings escapes Ashley’s mouth. “Don’t worry. I’m not armed.”
From her expression and words, I wonder if she’s harboring feelings for him. If all this time, the public humiliation, and the fact he’s married and about to have a baby aren’t enough to dampen what she feels about him, I don’t stand a chance.
Maybe not going public right away was a mistake.
Thankfully, Tom keeps his mouth shut.
“And you,” she jabs her finger into my bicep, “stop acting like you need to fight imaginary dragons on my behalf. I’m not a damsel. Or a princess. I don’t need rescuing. I don’t need a man determining my honor or my worth based on my past actions. Nor do I expect everyone to suddenly forget everything I’ve ever done in my life and act like I’m some sort of saint. Or virgin. The last thing I need is a man protecting some false sense of honor. I am an adult. A woman, not a girl. I own my past. Am I perfect? No. And I’m fine with that. This isn’t my problem. It’s yours.”
She pauses to inhale and I open my mouth to speak. John’s hand on my shoulder stops me.
“There’s a reason I don’t live on the island anymore. Growing up here, knowing each other for our whole lives, you think you know me. You think you have a right to my memories and feelings because we shared experiences. I don’t owe any of you a thing. Not one damn thing.”
My mind is cheering her on for speaking her mind, but my heart hurts at what feels like a public breakup of something we’ve barely admitted has been happening between us. I want to apologize and tell her I love her. I keep my mouth shut because I’m smart enough to know she doesn’t want to hear either right now.
“Are you finished?” Tom asks.
She exhales and lengthens her spine while lifting her chin in stubbornness. “Maybe.”
“Okay, while you think about that, I’m going to say a few things.”
“Tom.” John’s voice is full of warning. Kind of sounds like a dad voice.
“I’ve got this.” He takes a step closer to Ashley. I roll my shoulders back and stand straighter. “Carter, stand down, man.”
Ashley glares at me and I take a seat on the edge of a barstool.
“I owe you an apology.” He faces her. “I didn’t treat you right.”
“Apology accepted. Sorry about the swingers’ party.”
John’s eyes bug out and I imagine his expression mirrors the look I had when she told me.
Tom nods once and then focuses on us. “Take that one to your graves.”
“Nothing happened!” Ashley flails her hands, waving away whatever images she thinks we’re conjuring up. “I swear!”
“I believe you.” Tom’s the first one to speak. “I assumed you and I were cut from the same mold. I never bothered to take a minute to look beyond the surface. Sometimes I can be a little self-centered.”
John snorts, giving the rest of us permission to laugh.
“Little bit.” Ashley scrunches up her nose, and holds her thumb and finger apart by an inch.
“Okay, all right. I’m a cocky bastard, but I’m not a monster. I can admit when I’m wrong, and I am truly sorry.”
“I never should’ve thrown the meat. Or turned us into a public spectacle.”
“I’m grateful you didn’t grab the bone-in rib eye. Or a leg of lamb.” His slow smile reveals his dimples. Instead of the urge to smack the smugness off his face, I find myself joining him in hypothetical things worse to toss at someone’s head in a grocery store.
“Or the frozen king crab legs. You could’ve lost an eye.” Ashley adds.
“Bag of mussels. Clams,” John says
“Turkey.” Tom’s laughing now, too.
“We have a winner.” John pats Tom’s shoulder.
“We’re all good? You and me?” Tom asks Ashley.
“I think so.”
Tom faces me. “Carter? You want to duke it out some more?”
“No. If Ashley is okay with you, so am I.”
Olaf returns carrying a case of beer. He takes one look at us and sets the box on the bar. “Which one of you assholes has been fighting in here? Who do I need to ban? Can’t any of you idiots read?”
He points behind him on the huge mirror behind the bar. “Read the sign. Fighting will result in a lifetime ban. No exceptions.”
“No one was fighting,” John says, completely straight faced. “In fact, Tom was apologizing to Ashley.”
Olaf squints at our group, sizing us up. “About damn time. Now that peace is restored, we can all go about our lives with a song in our hearts and love for our fellow man.”
My jaw drops. Everyone wears the same expression of shock and disbelief.
“Ha! Got ya.” Olaf slaps his hand on the bar. “Now go home. I’m closing early.”