CHAPTER SEVEN
Elara
My heart sped when I saw the man filling the doorway. It had to be the guy I’d laid out in the slush. The one Cash had called vicious. A strange spark raced through me, setting my nerves on fire.
“Oh, shit,” I mumbled under my breath.
The room went silent as he stumbled through the door.
“He would pick now to show up, mon dieu,” Cash grumbled behind me. “Excuse me for a moment.”
I stared at that beast of a man as he stumbled through the door. His jeans almost looked painted on his thighs. Even though the red flannel made him look like he should have been on the front of a paper towel roll, I found myself biting my lower lip.
No, Elara. This isn’t what you came here for.
But hadn’t it been? Or at least been a possibility? It was supposed to be vacation after all. The plane trip had me wishing for a beach and a bronzed beach god, but no one had ever told me that there could be bronzy gods in the snow. He could have been Hephaestus swinging the iron in the forge in the underworld for all I cared. He was delectable, but after taking him out with the door of Aunt Minnie’s truck earlier I didn’t want to risk being rejected again. My apology hadn’t gone over well.
“You’re not welcome here. Your sister’s orders.” Cash’s voice was smooth and low as he tried to direct the burly man back out the door.
“Yeah, well, my sister’s crazy, fucking that seal of hers. And you, you’re bringing all the riff raff through here. You and I are going to have a talk, Cash.”
Oh, lordy. What drama did I walk in to?
Cash crossed his arms across his chest to try to block the mountain of a man from stepping inside the bar.
“Let him in, Cash,” a tired voice called from the corner. The man looked like he could have walked out of a Western with his roughed-up jeans and a dusty cowboy hat. His tiny round eyeglasses added to the effect. “I’ll tell boss lady I let him in.”
“Thanksss, Remmy, but I don’t need you to cover for me,” Mister flannel crooned with a smile as he pushed past Cash toward the corner of the room. “And you and me will have a talk about all the wolves that have showed up in town all of a sudden, Cash. Go bring me more whissskey.”
He was well past drunk. I hoped he didn’t recognize me as I sat at the bar.
“This is on you if he causes issues. I’m not dealing with the boss,” Cash called over his shoulder as he walked back to behind the bar.
I watched Mister Drunky as he shuffled across the floor. He was handsome in that rugged, backwoods sort of way. The salt and pepper at his temples was just enough to peak my interest and break up the short military hair style. Damn it. I was finding him attractive. Why did I do that to myself?
“Oh, petite sugah. No, no, no. Salt looks just like sugah.”
“What?”
“Remember what your mama would tell you when you found something as a kid?”
“Finders keepers?”
“No. Put it back. You don't know where it's been.”
“Same could be said for you.”
He quirked a smile at me. “Touché, petite, touché. But he can’t be your type.”
“I don’t know. He probably is,” I said with a sigh as I tried to take my eyes away from that freight train of a man. How had I ever managed to knock him off his feet?
“And that would be what?”
“Bad for me.”
Cash snorted, making me laugh. “I wouldn’t bet against you there, petite sugah. But maybe a little romp with me will get it out of your system so you can go back to the lower forty-eight.”
I couldn't help the smirk that came along with my raised eyebrow. “Ya think so?” I teased, leaning closer to him across the bar.
He met me halfway across the top of the butcher block bar, his face a few inches from mine. He smelled like honey. “I know so.”
I ran my finger down the bridge of his nose and across his lower lip, intentionally making my voice breathy. “But you’ve got a girlfriend. I don’t get mixed up with people in relationships.”
Muffled words rose above the quiet conversations behind us. “That’s not who that is, buddy. You need to go home.”
Wood squealed against wood behind us. I was afraid to look.
“Mon dieu,” he muttered, his curse heavy with frustration. “I should have known better.”
I followed Cash’s gaze and drew a shaking breath. That gruff flannelled man was on his feet. His friend tried to restrain him from coming my way.
“You’re full of shit,” flannel boy growled. “I need to deal with this, then I’ll go home.”
“Come on, boss. You’re drunk.”
Mister On-his-ass-in-the-ice didn’t take the words too kindly. He shoved his friend a few feet away with little effort. Even drunk, he was graceful. “You need to stay out of my business. You work for me! You're telling my foreman he's better off elsewhere?”
Oh boy. What did I walk in to?
“Excuse me, petite. This is not what I wanted to happen.”
Cash hurried out from behind the bar toward the ever-increasing scuffle of men shoving each other. I watched the flannel monster grab his friend and shove him up against the wall, chairs toppling over.
There was something primal that flashed across his eyes as they locked with mine. It tugged at my soul. It was dangerous but I wanted to run toward the flame. A brief grin slid across his lips. Cash shouted something at him, drawing his attention from me. That look had been enough to make me want to do something stupid. My body betrayed me as I sat there, wanting to know if he was always that dominant and aggressive. My mind told me I was crazy. There is a thin line between alpha and asshole, and as I watched, I wasn't sure which side of it he fell on.
Glass from a picture frame shattered, sending my heart in to overdrive. The shouts from the men trying to stop him became intertwined into one voice. My vision swam.
I slipped off my stool and headed toward the restroom. The chaos of men scuffling was too much for me. I needed to get out of my head before a panic attack pulled me under.
I turned on the water and washed my face in the cold water. Catching my reflection in the restroom mirror, I saw how bright pink my cheeks were against my freckles and how deep the circles under my eyes were. My flame orange hair was everywhere from the dancing. Back home, I wouldn’t have cared. But after the look in that strange man’s eyes, I felt the need to try to tame it my wild fire hair. I gave up and threw it in a quick side braid so I would keep from fiddling with it.
There were more shouts and moving furniture. Someone or something thumped against the wall, startling me. I really did not want to go back out there. I reached for the door, but the poorly scratched graffiti carved in the wood made me pause.
Others - Sanctuary - Room 713
The building wasn’t large enough to have a room 713. From what my cousin had told me before I came up here, Broken Tusk Inn only had a dozen rooms for rent. It definitely piqued my curiosity.
I opened the bathroom door right in to that solid, flannel covered chest. My hands instinctively came up to stop myself from running into him. He caught both of my small hands in one of his, clutching them to his chest. I smelled pine and alcohol coming off him. What did he do for a living? Logger? I wasn’t sure, but that hard muscled chest beneath that flannel made me feel safe despite the chaos he had caused.
“I thought I saw you come in to the bar. Couldn’t believe my eyes. Been too long, Red.”
There was only one person who had ever gotten away with calling me Red. And he was gone. I opened my mouth to contradict him, but froze.
That same flash of primal lust was in his eyes again. The smarter part of me said stop him. The not so smart part melted like ice under a summer sun.
A bruise had already started to form on his cheek. A quick glance over his shoulder made me realize that the rest of the crowd had been left worse for the wear. He was just the only one still on his feet. My stomach soured at the thought that he’d come here for me. All I’d done was knock him over. Surely, I didn’t deserve to be stalked.
His free hand slipped to my hip, pulling me against him. My eyes darted up and met his dark eyes. His skin was a golden tan from spending a long time in the sun. He had the start of crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes and salt and pepper hair at his temples. The sharp planes of his cheeks were covered by the rough shadow of a beard.
“I'm not who you think I am,” I managed as I swallowed hard. There was a slight bend to his nose with a tiny scar that ran across it. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to know the story behind it.
“Oh, I know who you are, Red.” He slipped his hand along my cheek and in to my hair, gently angling my face toward his, thumb playing across my cheek.
“I miss this,” he slurred, the alcohol heavy on his breath as his eyes landed on my lips.
His lips were on mine before I could respond. I kissed him back. When he gently nipped at my lip, my head spun.
“Too bad I know what you are,” he whispered against my lips before he gave me another brief kiss and walked out the front door.
What the hell had just happened?
Cash sat with his back against the bar, trying to catch his breath. He raised an eyebrow at me as he daintily touched his split lip. He’d seen the whole thing from where he sat on the floor. I wasn’t sure if I was more flabbergasted about the kiss, or Cash’s stare.
“Well, ain’t that a hitch in his git-a-long,” he managed with a chuckle, a flash of pain crossing his eyes. “I hear tell he’s not interested in ladies. You some kind of witch, little one? Cause you sure put a spell on him.”
“Oh no. No, no, no.”